Homily

In today's tropar, we sang, "Though the tomb had been sealed, from the tomb You arose, O Life and Christ our God. Though the door had been locked, You appeared among the disciples . . ." I love that coupling: the tomb was sealed but you got out, the door was locked but you got in. St. John in his gospel is trying to show up something of a change in Jesus: this is not ghost, no apparition, no dream, no product of the disciples' minds, no hallucination. It is really Jesus because they see him, and not just because they see Him, but also because they can touch Him. In the Kontakion today the presumption is not that Thomas could have touched Jesus but that he did touch Him, for it says, "Thomas placed his restless hand into Your life-giving side, O Christ our God." Over the years, every once and a while, I will ask in Bible study here, "Does Jesus have a body in heaven?" And usually, you see the look of surprise on some people’s faces as they think about how to answer. “Well, Heaven is like spiritual not material, Jesus is in heaven, so Jesus has to be spiritual not material, so I kind of assumed Jesus doesn't really have a real body in heaven, but now that you're asking this question, I'm not so sure so maybe I'll let somebody else answer." But of course, Jesus has a genuine human body. He did not shuck it off somewhere between Galilee and the Pearly Gates, like some old coat that was no longer suitable for wear. Jesus became a human being at a moment in time in the womb of Mary, but He is a man forever and ever. His resurrected body is certainly different than it was before His death. It is no longer subject to decay or need or corruption, and He can appear before or leave His disciples in an instant, not subject to the laws of physics, and yet, and yet, and yet at the same time He has a genuine body that can be touched. It is still a real human body.

So I'm not surprised at the disbelief of Thomas when the other disciples tell him that Jesus, risen from the dead, appeared to them. I'm not surprised when he says he won't believe it unless he can touch Him. Even Jesus is not surprised at Thomas. Instead, He invites him to come and touch Him and see for himself how real His body is. And Jesus then says how blessed are those who have not seen, do not see and yet they still believe. Of course, that is us. We haven't seen the Risen Christ as the disciples did, but we still believe, even if our faith is not as strong as we would like it to be.

We are so deeply rooted in this physical world, in this material life, this existence of flesh and blood. And in this real world we can see beautiful creatures, wonderful beginnings, growth, and positive experiences. But all of these are very temporary, and sadly few in number. More than these things, what fills a larger portion of our lives seems to be pain, sorrow, loss, and the threat of pain, sorrow, and loss, just as Thomas felt after the death of Jesus. We hope for miracles, we hope for the touch of the divine and for an experience of God, someplace where we can put our restless hands and say, "My Lord and my God!" but it is so very hard for us to do so. We tend to stick with what we have right now, right here in this physical world, just the way we see it coming at us, and when we see the world coming at us, it can be so overwhelming at times that we leave Christ aside because we are so busy gathering all of our forces to meet the challenges that are coming our way. That's the battleground we too often find ourselves in.

It is hard to keep our focus on the divine life we've received, because we are so often tempted to limit ourselves, to what is material, visible, touchable. When a new baby is born, it is so easy to see the hand of God in this miraculous creation of a new life. But that awareness tends to fade a bit as time goes on the material realities of nighttime feedings and increasingly dangerous diapers can overcome the awareness of the divine gift of life.

There are beautiful, grace-filled moments in our lives, but I think more often what really grabs our attention is the threat of, or reality of our loss, pain, decay, and the grappling hooks of death that seem to be pulling us closer and closer to our end where what is earthly will be returned to the earth. All is in decay—that is often our big fear. That’s one of the reasons the news media is so tilted toward negatives stories, because those are stories we expect to see. Nobody reads a newspaper in the hope it will cheer them up.

Like Thomas it can be hard to believe life can follow death. It can be hard to believe that divine life exists for us in this material existence. It can be hard to find the Spirit when all we feel is flesh and blood, and maybe that flesh is aching and in pain.

But I remind us all that we can indeed touch the resurrected body of Christ as Thomas did 2000 years ago. We not only can touch Him, we can actually receive Him, body, blood, soul, and divinity; for, after that time we read about in today’s Gospel, where Thomas touches the Body of Christ, for the rest of his life, every time after that Thomas received the Holy Eucharist, he, once again, touched the body of Christ. Every time we receive this same Eucharist, we touch Him as well, we receive Him Who is truly man, we receive Him Who is truly God. We receive Him Who offers us His own immortal life even now in mortal bodies living in this physical world. We do not touch His wounds, but He comes to touch ours.

A few years ago, a national poll showed that only about one third of those who call themselves Catholic believe that they receive the true Body and Blood of Jesus Christ in Holy Communion. About 70% said they believe the Holy Eucharist is only a symbol of Christ’s Body and Blood. Some have doubted that these poll results are accurate, but if even only half of Catholics believe in the Real Presence of Christ it is no wonder people stop coming to church, or they fall away to some Protestant group, or they simply don’t care much about the spiritual life. Let that not be true for us! We see, we taste, we feel bread and wine, but they are bread and wine no longer but only Christ, so that we can say to Him truly today, as we touch Him with our lips: "My Lord, and my God!" Let that be our Communion prayer this morning.