HOMILY
The Second Sunday of Easter (B)
19 April 09

---

Although there are many rich images in today’s readings—each of which provides plenty of material for a couple of rather lengthy homilies—the image I’d like to consider today is the person of the apostle, Thomas. All of us, I am sure, have heard this particular apostle called the “doubting” Thomas. I believe this a misnomer, because it’s not so much that Thomas doubted as it was that Thomas was afraid to believe. Doubt isn’t a bad thing because it can spur us to ask question, to contemplate, and to seek the truth. Fear is bad, however, because it can debilitate us from acting as we know we should.

Wasn’t the real question confronting Thomas, “What will be the personal cost that I will have to pay if I believe Jesus is the Risen Lord?”

Stated that way, isn’t the situation Thomas confronted pretty much like our own? That is, we don’t doubt as much as we fear. We’re not so sure we want to believe, because if we did and understood beyond any shadow of a doubt what the price of belief actually would entail personally of us, we would fear having to pay the price? So, like Thomas, we position ourselves somewhere on the sidelines between belief and unbelief, all the while living in fear that the time will come when we’ll have to make a firm choice that commits us and have to pay the price we aren’t all that willing to pay. Again, like Thomas, is that not precisely the point when we ask for some proof—perhaps a little miracle here or there or, as Thomas said, “I won’t believe unless I can put my finger into the nail wounds and my hand into his side”—that will give us the strength us to overcome our fear so that we believe enough and be willing to pay the price by conducting ourselves (and this is the important point) in the way we already know we should?

Examples of Thomas’ struggle between with doubt and fear are legion starting with today’s first reading from the Act of the Apostles where Luke relates an idealized account about how Jesus’ disciples gave all they had to community and how the community provided for its members, each according to one’s need. But, a little later in the account, we learned of a husband, Ananias, and his wife, Sapharia. What they did prior to donating their money to the Christian community was to conspire to hold back a little bit for their IRA or slush fund, because they feared this little experiment in belief might not work out. Ananias and Sapharia believed, but only so much. Because of their fear, they were willing to give a bit, but not to the point that it might potentially cause personal pain. They wanted the equivalent of an “opt out” clause.

This account reminds me of a Merrimack College graduate whom I know. By all outward appearances, he’s an exemplary Catholic gentleman. He serves as a lector and communion minister. He teaches the confirmation class at his parish (in his diocese, confirmation takes place junior year of high school, so teaching confirmation class at times can be more like entering into trench warfare). He’s even told me that he has given serious consideration to becoming a priest. But, he isn’t willing to commit himself to the priesthood because—in his own words—“It would mean that I’d have to give up my dream of…[stop here: fill in the blank with your own “but”]…being a politician and one day, hopefully Governor of Rhode Island.” Like the apostle Thomas, this fine Catholic gentleman is willing to believe, but only at the price he is willing to pay. So, to this day, he stands on the sidelines believing while also learning how to play hardball politics and how to accrue enough IOU’s and quid pro quos with the hope of living one day in the governor’s mansion. He believes only so much.

There are millions of Catholics throughout the world—and some are present here in church today—who profess their faith each week but do so only as long as what the Church teaches doesn’t interfere with their personal opinions. The price of belief—that what the Church teaches is the authentic truth in matters of faith and morals—is a price these millions of Catholics are not willing to pay. For them, faith is like one of those Swedish smorgasbord restaurants—just pick and choose whatever you like and avoid everything on the menu you don’t like. Just like Thomas, these millions of Catholics stand on the sidelines, believing just enough but never committing themselves to what the Catholic faith requires. Over the years, I’ve seen hundreds of the more honest of these people become Episcopalians and Presbyterians because being “moderate”—neither hot nor cold—suits their beliefs. Yet, what they should ask themselves is: If everything is the truth, how is anything the truth?

Think again of Thomas who demanded proof so that he would no longer fear committing himself to faith in the Risen Lord:

· Is this not helpful for understanding how so many Catholic politicians live in fear, especially those in position of national leadership like Nancy Pelosi? If they were to assert their belief in the Church’s teaching, the price they likely would have to pay is being voted out of office by angry voters. The fear: where else can I achieve and enjoy such immense worldly power? The question: What does it mean to be a Catholic political and civic leader?

· Does this not explain why so many young Catholic couples decide to live together before marriage? If they were to assert their belief in the Church’s teaching, they might have to commit themselves in full faith and fidelity to love, honor, and obey one another all the days of their lives. The fear: can I get out of this relationship? The question: Does each party really love the other?

· Is that not why the President of the University of Notre Dame, Fr. John I. Jenkins, CSC, decided to award an honorary degree to the President of the United States and has steadfastly refused to back down on his decision despite the fact that more than thirty bishops, archbishops, and cardinals have requested that he do so? If Fr. Jenkins was to assert his belief that a Catholic university does stand for something, he would be scorned by all of those within the university community who have little or no interest in promoting what a university as Catholic can be. The fear: being castigated by all of those who don’t want Catholic universities to be Catholic in name and in fact. The question: What does Catholic educational leadership require?

· Is that not why the President of Georgetown University, John J. DeGoia, allowed the symbol of Jesus’ name to be covered over when the President of the United States spoke at Georgetown on Friday? If Dr. DeGoia was to uphold that Georgetown University is sponsored by the Society of Jesus and that the Society’s symbol “IHS” should not be covered over with plywood for a speech delivered by the President of the United States, protests would be staged and rallies held, making Dr. DeGoia’s much life less pleasant. The fear: alienating those who have little or no interest whatsoever in Georgetown’s Catholic and Jesuit identity where Jesus’ name is given focal prominence. The question: Is Georgetown a Catholic and Jesuit university and what does that mean in actual practice?

· Is that not why so many of us choose not to speak up and publicly defend the faith and morals of our Church? If we were to promote what the Church teaches, we know that we’d encounter all forms of resistance, from little things like increased problems in our relationships, to big things like having no friendships at all. The fear: we’d lose friends. The question: Were they really friends in the first place?

In today’s gospel, we heard about the disciples, who’ve locked themselves behind closed doors, full of doubt and fear. Notice what that does, however. Where there is doubt, one cannot make a commitment and where there is fear, one cannot experience joy. When doubt leads to fear, this does not make for courageous political leaders, strong and vibrant marriages, principled Catholic educational leaders and institutions, or solid relationships. No, doubt that leads to fear is debilitating, leading only to a lifeless existence. But, when doubt leads asking good questions, to contemplation, and to seeking the truth, this makes it possible to believe in what it takes to make a commitment to be a courageous political leader, to build strong and vibrant marriages, to be principled, and to strengthen relationships. When doubt leads to belief, it is possible to lead a joyful existence even in the midst of a host of all sorts of problems.

That is why Jesus suddenly is standing there in the midst of his disciples. All he says is “Peace be with you.”

This is no pro forma turning to the person next to you at Mass—someone you may not even know—and saying, “Peace be with you.” Neither is this peace the absence of estrangement or even, war. No, in Hebrew, the word “Shalom” is a verb which signifies a personal commitment to restore things to their original well-being, as God intended in and from the beginning, not simply to suit one’s fancy today. “Shalom”—“peace be with you”—is a commitment to actively will and commit myself to be obedient to God by repairing whatever is broken…even if I didn’t break it. Think about it: why would Jesus have to reconcile himself with his disciples? What did Jesus do that required that he seek reconciliation? Don’t forget: the people to whom Jesus appeared have betrayed him, denied him, and (for Thomas who was absent) aren’t so sure they really want to believe because, if they do, they fear that the price to be exacted will be too great. And so, on that very first day of the week, Jesus lives shalom and offers it to those who don’t possess it.

Have you ever found yourself in a position where you know you’re guilty of having wronged someone—really perpetrated an injustice—and lived in mortal fear that you’d run into that person and have to face up to the truth of your iniquity? Have you ever done everything in your power to avoid this individual by locking him or her out of your life, only to have that person suddenly appear right there in front of you? Do you know the experience of that sudden surge of terror and shame? Have you found yourself wondering: “Gosh, what am I going to say” or “I wonder what this person is about to say?”

Now place yourselves in the disciples’ shoes. Have you ever found yourself dumbfounded and flabbergasted when that person suddenly breaks through all of your defenses, is standing there smack dab right in front of you, and says, “Look, the past is the past and it can’t be undone. Bygones are bygones. Let’s move forward.” And then comes the shocker: “I forgive you for what you did.”

Stupefied and shamefaced, are you willing to believe that you’re truly forgiven? Or, do you find yourself wondering, “What’s this person really up to?” Or, perhaps even more troubling, have you found yourself in the position of being purposely wronged by another, perhaps even someone you love? Have you felt the venom of resentment and anger surge up within you?

The simple truth is that we’re all like Thomas, in one degree or another, because we want proof if we are to act upon what we say we believe. And, absent this proof, we aren’t willing to forgive, even those we claim to love.

Make no mistake about it: there is reason to doubt and fear because there is no proof and the price faith exacts is high. But, Jesus set the example by reconciling himself with his disciples. He said to them: “Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven.”

The proof that the Lord is risen is that we set about making things right by restoring order to the chaos of our lives and relationships so that others will see and experience the Risen Lord’s presence in their hearts, homes, families, neighborhoods cities, states, nations, and world. Doubt that leads to fear cannot engender belief. Only doubt that leads to seeking the truth can engender belief to go so far as to forgive those who have wronged us.

“Blessed are they who have not seen,” Jesus tells these Thomases, “but believe.”

Does today’s homily raise any question(s) that you would like
                   me to respond to? Mail your question(s) by double clicking on
                   the mailbox. I will respond to your question(s) at my first
                   available opportunity.

   Double click on this button to return to the homily
                                         webpage.