Second Sunday of Easter

The “doubting Thomas” in today's Gospel recalls a Ronald Reagan story.  Many people question whether there's a God.  To them, Reagan allegedly adlibbed, “sometimes... I'm tempted to invite an atheist to the greatest gourmet dinner imaginable, and when finished eating ... to ask if he believes there's a cook.” Now that's not a bad analogy for arguing there's a God.

I do like this Reagan story: when a reporter compared Reagan’s work habits to Jimmy Carter's -- Carter was generally in the office at 7 am and often stayed until midnight, whereas Reagan seldom arrived before 9 and generally left at 5 -- Reagan replied, with his good humor, "hard work never killed anybody, but I figure, why take the chance?" So much for Reagan stories.

We continue to celebrate the Easter miracle these next six Sundays: Jesus Christ lives, and because he lives, we live. And so I might ask, have you ever witnessed an Easter miracle? Think about it. A depressed person resurrected to hope; an alcoholic resurrected to sobriety; a troubled marriage resurrected to renewed love; an angry man resurrected to forgiveness; or an estrangement between parent and child bridged.

We too can create little miracles for others when we seize the opportunity every day. And so think about how we can  create an Easter miracle for someone else.  And then, just do it.

Now what does the word of God offer us today? In the book of Acts, the disciples work signs and wonders, the community is growing by leaps and bounds, and a vibrant faith community is emerging. That word should inspire us to worship together as a parish community and share what we have, especially our time and talents, for example in volunteer service of one kind or another. That's what the early Christian community did.

The book of Revelation, which generally highlights the apocalyptic struggle between good and evil, here describes a Christian named John who has a visionary experience of Jesus Christ, risen and alive, the beginning and the end, the conqueror of death. The author encourages his readers to persevere in their faith despite the hardships they may be undergoing, because good ultimately will triumph over evil.

 In the Gospel according to John, we have a post-resurrection appearance of Jesus in a Jerusalem house, where the disciples are hiding behind locked doors. Jesus here was not simply a spirit or ghost; nor was he simply resuscitated.

The earthly Jesus was transformed or transfigured into a new kind of spiritual embodiment. What precisely that is we don't know. But it was, as Pope Benedict XVI phrased it, an evolutionary “leap” into a totally new reality.

In this passage, the risen Christ bestows upon the disciples the energizing Spirit, the abiding inner peace, and the overwhelming mercy of God. But the skeptical Thomas wasn’t there. Thomas is portrayed as the quintessential doubter. And lo and behold, a week later, Jesus appears again. And Thomas makes that awesome declaration of faith “My Lord and my God.”

But who is Thomas? We know little to nothing about him. The name “Thomas” is a nickname, meaning “twin” in Aramaic. But Thomas the doubter or questioner is easily identifiable with many people today. They are questioners, doubters.  If there's a God, where's the evidence.

Christianity proposes that we were born to be in relationship with God forever. With anything or anyone less than God, we will experience a hunger, an emptiness, a feeling that something is missing. St. Augustine, in his autobiography Confessions, captured this spiritual hunger simply but profoundly: “Our hearts are restless until they can find rest in you, O God.”

One thing we all need is a loving, ongoing relationship. But no human relationship will satisfy us completely. There still remains something missing. That is because we were created to live in a relationship with God. That's our DNA.

Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” In Jesus, we find life where there was death. True, every human being is made in the image of God. But we also are fallen or flawed creatures. Good and bad, generosity and selfishness, light and darkness, all live within us.

That is why human beings cry out for healing and mercy, which we celebrate today—Divine Mercy Sunday.

We seek God's forgiveness, and ask for the forgiveness of one another. And only in Jesus Christ can we be in relationship with God. Jesus, through the mystery of his dying and rising, freed us from death and nothingness so we can live with God forever.

Christianity challenges us to live authentically, to be true to that inner voice within ourselves, to live a life worthy of our calling as sons and daughters of God our Father. The 20th century philosopher and theologian Paul Tillich described three of our greatest fears: fear about meaninglessness; fear about death; and fear about guilt. Jesus meets these three fears head-on. God created us for a purpose; God gifted us with life eternal; and God through Jesus reconciled us to Himself.

One final word about Thomas the doubter, the questioner. There are all kinds of indicators pointing to God: the order in the 100 billion galaxies in the observable universe presupposes an orderer (just as a watch, e. g., presupposes a watchmaker); hope presupposes a future; moral outrage at terrorism in Sri Lanka or genocide in WWII presupposes a judge; and so forth.

Of course, there are also indicators that there’s no God—for example, evil or  senseless violence. But faith in God is a calculated risk. Blaise Pascal, a 17th century French mathematician, inventor, and philosopher, captured this risk in his famous wager or bet.  The bet goes like this:
One doesn't have certainty that God exists.
Not believing in God is bad for one’s eternal soul if God indeed does exist.
Believing in God is of no consequence if God does not exist.
Therefore, it's in my best interest to believe in God. Think about that bet.

Doubting Thomas concludes, “My Lord and my God.” Yes, Jesus lives, and because he lives, you and I live. Life in relationship with God forever. That's our ultimate purpose. Someday this earthly existence of ours, like that of the crucified and risen Jesus, will be transformed, in some unimaginable way, into an indescribable heavenly existence.

At a funeral mass, we hear the words, “For those who believe, life is not taken away, life is merely changed.” Let us pray that the gift of faith will empower us, like Thomas, to proclaim every day, “My Lord and my God.”