At one time or another we have all had the feeling of being left out.  Even if not intended, the feeling of not being around when something of importance takes place can leave us feeling excluded.  Even when exclusion is not intentional, sometimes our desire to having been part of something or being somewhere, which for one reason or another we were not present, can lead us to feel a bit jealous or even angry.  It’s a feeling that others have been let in on something that we were not.  The question is “what does it take to be included or to include others, when we or they are excluded or feel excluded?”

Traditionally the story of Thomas, the apostle, that we hear in the Gospel today (Jn 20:24-29) has been looked at as having faith in God, namely the Risen Christ, from the standpoint of not physically seeing the Risen Jesus.   As the story goes, Thomas was not with the apostles on one occasion when the Risen Christ appeared to them.  Although the disciples tell Thomas that “We have seen the Lord,” Thomas insists (with doubt) that “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nail marks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

Thomas seems quite stubborn in his unbelief in the story.  But I wonder if the believing that Thomas seems to be refusing is more tied to a feeling of not being included.   When we don’t feel a part of something, we can easily feel resentful.  Even when the story is convincing, pride can certainly get in the way of our endowing value and reverence upon an event or even a person.  It’s like hearing about a great party that you feel you weren’t invited.  When we feel included it makes a big difference on how we see things.  Belonging is a deep yearning that we all have whether we admit it to ourselves or not.

Now, I am not saying that Jesus intentionally chose to appear to the apostles when he knew that Thomas was not available.   We don’t know why Thomas was not there, but instead we hear how Thomas claims that he will not believe unless he himself can touch the wounds of the Risen Christ.  What if this story is as much about how we share the very ability to believe in new life with each other as it is about having to physically encounter something on a personal level in order for it to impact us? What if the two are the same, only from different perspectives?  In other words, do you think that your ability to engage in faith – indeed life itself – is somehow intrinsically tied to others?

If we look out at our world, we can see this in different shades.  Many times, a gathering of like-minded people can be both creative and destructive.  Jumping on the proverbial bandwagon can wield both positive and negative effects.  But this sense of belonging that is engaged by gathering in this way is a powerful force in our lives.  We can see this clearly in our past and present day history.  When we feel that we have been excluded or don’t belong, we can be resentful and create demanding expectations that ironically produce even more isolation.  These are the “doors” that we “lock” with fear to keep out that which we feel will harm us.   And why?  Because we feel that we have already been excluded and so in a spirit of self-protection we prescribe the strict scenario wherein others will be granted admission.

Here is the “catch”:

Now a week later his disciples were again inside
and Thomas was with them.
Jesus came, although the doors were locked,
and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.”
Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands,
and bring your hand and put it into my side,
and do not be unbelieving, but believe.”
Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God!”

This encounter is not just between Jesus and Thomas – it’s an engagement wherein all the apostles are included.   Jesus is inviting Thomas and each one of us to believe in the possibility for a New Life as yet perhaps unimagined.  It’s a life that we all can share in, which enters despite sometimes locked doors and ultimately brings us together into a unified dwelling place for God, as Paul says to the Ephesians (Eph 2:19-22):

You are no longer strangers and sojourners,
but you are fellow citizens with the holy ones
and members of the household of God,
built upon the foundation of the Apostles and prophets,
with Christ Jesus himself as the capstone…
in him you also are being built together
into a dwelling place of God in the Spirit.

The price of admission is our shared wounded-ness.  We are called to touch the wounds of Christ as we find them in each other.  And it is precisely by touching and loving each other in our shared experience of suffering and pain that we are not only brought together, but “built together into a dwelling place of God.”  This touching is not just a surface encounter, but indeed a placing of our hands into the wounds of each other.

This visceral description of shared vulnerability can be quite unsettling, but it seems to be clearly the path to faith and new life.  The peace of the Risen Christ is stronger than any locked door, but it does take a faithful reception through the sharing of our vulnerability and wounded-ness with each other.  We belong to Christ in each other as we belong to each other in Christ.  This is the Risen belonging – full engagement with each other.

Being named “Thomas,” I have always found the doubting association with the name a bit perplexing.  Perhaps the doubting aspect is the uncertainty and even fear of not belonging to something or someone whom we long to love and trust and be with.  This longing is answered by a call to embrace New Life in and through the community of believers, which translates into the community of those who will look upon and respond and enter into the wounds of Christ in everyone around us and within us.

What if we are called to not so much avoid being like Thomas, but rather to actually engage more viscerally and vulnerably with each other as Thomas did with Jesus.   I think the Christ can ‘take’ this type of ‘unbelief.’  Indeed we generally have to question from an posture of certainty and assumption.  We can start out in doubt and fear and be brought right into full engagement together.  When we can do this, or at least try to do this, we can know that we are engaging in the belief of New and Transformed life, belonging to the Risen Christ in those all around.  Then, we can share this Risen Belonging with others saying  aloud (as my namesake) to everyone “My Lord and my God!”

Peace,

Thomas

(originally published July 3, 2017)