COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #17: Faith, Doubt, Fear and Divine Mercy

Today, I hope to address the gift of faith, while touching on the doubts and fears that attack those who do not fully accept this gift from God. That’s right, brothers and sisters, faith is a gift – as the theologian would say, a gratuitous gift. You and I neither deserve it, nor can we work to achieve it. It’s not something we can conjure up on our own. Instead it’s something God offers us in the divine hope that we will accept it.

I’ll begin today by turning to the Gospel according to John, where the evangelist recounts the first post-Resurrection appearance of Jesus to the disciples. Listen to God’s Word and read these verses from John, chapter 20, verses 19 to 31:

On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, “Peace be with you.” When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.”

Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So, the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “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.” 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!” Jesus said to him, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples that are not written in this book. But these are written that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through this belief you may have life in his name. [John 20:19-31]

It’s really a remarkable passage, isn’t it? In fact, there’s so much there, I suppose we could spend the rest of our lives plumbing its depths. But today all we can do is scratch the surface, and hope that by doing so, we can deepen our faith, cast aside the doubts, and relieve the fears.

Our Gospel passage relates an event that takes place in the evening of that first Easter Sunday, when the Risen Jesus appears to the Apostles in the upper room.

They’d hidden there since Friday’s crucifixion. Told of the empty tomb by Mary Magdalene, Peter and John had gone to see for themselves. John claims he “saw and believed,” but followed this by admitting he and Peter really didn’t understand the Resurrection …at least not yet.

Then Mary told them of her personal encounter with the Risen Lord; but did they really believe her? We know they doubted, and we know, too, they were afraid. Indeed, fear kept them hidden behind the locked doors of the upper room. One suspects their faith was weak, plagued by those same doubts and fears.

But then, despite locked doors, despite doubts and fears, Jesus is there, standing in their midst. He is alive! And he speaks to them:

“Peace be with you” [Jn 20:19].

He shows them the marks, the nail marks, the gash in his side, the wounds He suffered for their salvation and the salvation of the world. And, yes, they rejoice in His presence, even though they don’t yet understand how this all came to be.

Again, he greets them,

“Peace be with you,” but then He adds, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you” [Jn 20:21].

His words, though, are a mystery. Sent? Sent where? Sent when? Sent to do what? They don’t know. All that will come later.

But Jesus isn’t quite finished with them this evening. He has more to do and to say.

He breathes on them, and they feel it, the breath of His mouth, coming from His Risen Body. Yes, He is certainly alive, for dead men don’t breathe. And as He breathed, He says,

“Receive the holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained” [Jn 20:22-23].

Once more, they’re lost in His words. Did He just say we’ll be forgiving sins? How does that work? All this sending out and forgiving of sins…for now it remains a mystery. And so, in joy they focus only on what they can see, the living, Risen Jesus. And with that He leaves them, just as He had arrived.

It seems, however, one Apostle, Thomas, wasn’t there. Where was he? We don’t know. John never tells us. But just imagine how Thomas felt when the others told him,

“We have seen the Lord” [Jn 20:25].

Did he simply disbelieve what they told him? Or was he angry with Jesus for coming when he wasn’t there? Perhaps he wondered why Jesus came when he, and only he was absent. We don’t know because John doesn’t tell us that either. All he tells us is what Thomas said:

“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” [Jn 20:25].

With these words, Thomas secures the title we hear so often: doubting Thomas. His words, after all, were hard words from a man who had spent three years with Jesus. For three years Thomas had witnessed the miracles, had seen hundreds healed of every illness, had even seen the dead brought back to life. Yes, for three years Thomas had been in the presence of “the Christ, the Son of the living God” [Mt 16:16]. But Jesus gives him another week to think about it. For Thomas, it must have been a long week. What did he do as he waited? John, of course, tells us nothing, but we can guess.

Once again, it’s Sunday, the Lord’s Day of the New Covenant, the Second Sunday of Easter, the day we celebrate as Divine Mercy Sunday. The Apostles are still locked in the upper room, still afraid, and likely still troubled by doubts. But this time all eleven are there. Thomas is with them.

Once again, Jesus stands in their midst, and once again, He says,

“Peace be with you” [Jn 20:26].

But then He turns to Thomas and says,

“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” [Jn 20:27].

Does Thomas reach out and touch those wounds? John doesn’t tell us, but I don’t believe he did. For there was no need. He can see the wounds with his eyes. And he can feel the shame, the guilt, overflowing in his heart. Like the women who ran from the empty tomb the week before, Thomas, too, was surely “fearful yet overjoyed” [Mt 28:8]. But in the face of Our Lord, Thomas sees only love, forgiveness, and divine mercy.

He answers with five words, making a perfect act of faith:

“My Lord and my God!” [Jn 20:28]

Yes, doubting Thomas is now believing Thomas, the apostle who later died a martyr for the faith he expressed that Second Sunday of Easter. He became a messenger, an Apostle of Mercy, a missionary to India where he shed his blood for his Lord and his God. Like his brother Apostles, like you and I, like all the baptized, Thomas was sent.

John uses this encounter between Apostle and Lord to break open in the Gospel account the implications of the bodily Resurrection of Jesus, a profoundly important aspect of our Christian faith. Jesus, who stands before the Apostles, is no ghost, no ethereal apparition [Lk 24:37]. The Risen Jesus is the Living Jesus. His body bears His wounds. He speaks. He breathes. He lets Himself be touched [Lk 24:39]. He eats with them [Lk 24:43] He is alive, glorified, but alive.

These first two meetings between Jesus and the Apostles are actually deeply Eucharistic. Jesus comes to them, Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, in communion, and they receive Him in a shared communion with each other. It’s a renewal of the communion of the Last Supper, celebrated here in that same upper room, the first Christian Church, on the Lord’s Day.

And today, millions of us all around the world, utter those same faith-filled words of Thomas when faced with Jesus’ Eucharistic Real Presence at the elevation during Mass: “My Lord and my God!” [Jn 20:28].

Pope St Gregory the Great (590-604), preached a marvelous homily on this encounter between Thomas and the Risen Lord. He tells us it’s good to remember that there are no coincidences with God. It was not by chance that Thomas was absent on that first Sunday. He returned, he heard, he doubted, Jesus returned, Thomas saw, even touched, and he believed. All happened according to God’s plan. The wound of Thomas’ disbelief was healed by the wounds of Our Lord’s Living, Risen Body. Thomas, then, becomes the witness to the reality of the Resurrection.

Before He leaves the Apostles on this Second Sunday, Jesus leaves Thomas with a kind reminder of his doubts, but then addresses you and me:

“Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”

That’s us, brothers and sisters. We’re the non-seers who believe. As such we are called to bring the risen Christ to others. Like the Apostles, we are invited to become living witnesses in our own day to the reality of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

On that first Divine Mercy Sunday, Thomas confronted the wounds of his beloved Savior so they could heal the wounds of our own disbelief. Let us then approach the throne of Mercy and cry out with Thomas:

"My Lord and My God" [Jn 20:28].

Those who do will be forever changed, just as the Apostles were changed. But the Resurrection was so utterly miraculous that even after being with the risen Jesus, many disciples still harbored doubts. As Matthew described their last meeting with Jesus right before His Ascension:

"The eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had ordered them. When they saw Him, they worshipped, but they doubted" [Mt 28:16-17].

“…they doubted.” It would take the Holy Spirit to cure them of their doubts, which He did 10 days later on that first Pentecost Sunday. And what a difference He made.

Just consider Peter, who became a messenger of mercy. He was so filled with the Spirit of the Risen Lord that Jesus could continue His redemptive mission through him, accomplishing miraculous deeds. In the Acts of the Apostles we read that even the shadow of Peter brought merciful healing [Acts 5:15].

John, the “beloved disciple” and evangelist, was imprisoned on the Island of Patmos. There he would continue to receive the consoling and liberating mercy of the Savior. There the Spirit inspired him to write these words of the vision he had received:

“Do not be afraid. I am the first and the last, the one who lives. Once I was dead, but now I am alive forever and ever. I hold the keys to death and the netherworld” [Rev 1:17-18].

And then there was Thomas. Jesus turned Thomas’ doubt into an event of Mercy for generations to come. Out of the repentance born from seeing Mercy Incarnate and the wounds of His Divine love, came that response, those wonderful words that have formed the most profound of personal prayers for centuries: “My Lord and My God”

Pope St Gregory was so right, “Thomas’ doubt healed the wounds of all of our doubts”

At the Liturgy of Canonization for Sister Mary Faustina Kowalski, on Sunday, April 30, 2000, the Pope St. John Paul II proclaimed:

“…Jesus shows his hands and his side. He points, that is, to the wounds of the Passion, especially the wound in his heart, the source from which flows the great wave of mercy poured out on humanity. From that heart Sister Faustina Kowalska, the blessed whom from now on we will call a saint, will see two rays of light shining from that heart and illuminating the world: ‘The two rays,’ Jesus himself explained to her one day, ‘represent blood and water’ …Divine Mercy reaches human beings through the heart of Christ crucified.”

Contemplating Jesus’ sufferings, you and I, then, are faced with a question. How do we take Christ’s Divine Mercy to others? How do we respond to the sufferings of our neighbors? Do their sufferings fill our hearts as well. For that’s what compassion truly means: to “suffer with.” As St. Faustina wrote, “I would like all their sorrows to fall upon me, in order to relieve my neighbor."

God places each of us, each uniquely created individual, in a certain time, in a certain place, and with certain gifts, and does so for a certain reason. We cannot choose our time and place, only what we do with the time given to us. But of one thing we can be certain: each of us is called to be a messenger of His Divine Mercy, an instrument of the peace of Christ in our own little corner of the world.

Jesus also told St. Faustina that, “Humanity will not find peace until it turns trustfully to Divine Mercy."

Homily: 2nd Sunday of Easter

Readings: Acts 2:42-47; Psalm 118; 1 Pt 1:3-9; John 20:19-31
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St. Paul wrote that between the Resurrection and the Ascension more than 500 disciples saw the risen Jesus [1 Cor 15:6]. These weren’t ghostly apparitions. He sat with them, talked with them, walked with them, touched them, ate with them, even cooked a meal for them. He came to them in the flesh. His glorified body, not subject to worldly limitations, is still the flesh that grew from Mary, the flesh that died on the cross, the flesh that bears the marks of His passion.

What a compliment to our humanity: the Son of God wanted the flesh He took from us to be His forever. I think sometimes we forget that. We forget that right now, today, the risen Jesus is truly alive, just as we are. Yes, His body is glorified, but it’s still a body of flesh and blood. And just as His flesh rose from the dead and was glorified, filled with God’s life, so shall yours and mine. Jesus is the Good News in the flesh! Our God with skin on!

In today’s Gospel we learn something about Jesus and about Thomas, but also about ourselves. Do you and I ever doubt? Do we ever question what we casually profess every Sunday in our Creed? You know – one God, three Persons, one Lord who came down from heaven, who died, was buried, and rose from the dead?

"My Lord and my God!"

Years ago, I had a friend named Mel. An agnostic, he told me he couldn’t understand how we Christians could believe all that stuff. It made no sense whatsoever. Thomas had set conditions for believing, hadn’t he? And like Thomas, Mel was a proof-seeker. “Show me! Prove it to me! Let me see it…let me touch it!” Jesus met all of Thomas’ conditions and did what was necessary to bring the reluctant apostle to faith. Thomas no longer had to take anyone’s word for it. But, unlike Thomas, Mel could neither see nor hear. He couldn’t put his fingers into the nail marks or his hand into that wound. 

Accepting God’s gift of faith isn’t always easy, is it? I lost track of Mel over the years but heard that he had died. I pray that he, too, was blessed with the gift of faith, even though he could not see. How did Jesus put it?

“Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed” [Jn 20:29].

Of course, He was talking to all of them, not just to Thomas. After all, these chosen ones had been huddled together in fear behind locked doors. Just as today many are huddled in fear behind their locked doors. But locked doors present no obstacle to Jesus, who is present wherever and whenever we call upon Him. Jesus came to release the Apostles from their fears, so they could bear witness to all they had seen and heard, so they could spread the Good News throughout the world.

As Christians we believe that God, who created the universe, really cares about us, that God is a God of love, a love so great it’s impossible to fully comprehend it. The Good News of Jesus Christ – His death and resurrection, our redemption and forgiveness, the promise of eternal life – is so good, so remarkable, that sometimes it seems almost too good to be true. And so, the world doubts. Thomas, too, struggled with this, just as my friend Mel did.

Poor Thomas. Because of this one incident, he’ll always be known as doubting Thomas. And yet, he wasn’t alone in his doubts. Indeed, there’s one very telling verse at the very end of Matthew’s Gospel when he describes the risen Jesus’ last moments with the apostles before he ascends to the Father. Matthew tells us that the now-11 apostles went to the mountain to which Jesus had ordered them. Then we read: 

“When they saw him, they worshipped, but they doubted” [Mt 28:17].

They still doubted, even after weeks with the risen Christ. Yes, I think poor Thomas gets a bum rap.

A few years ago, browsing in a shop in Mount Dora, I noticed a small sign that read: “Jesus loves you, but I’m His favorite.” Maybe this is what Thomas heard in the enthusiasm of the other apostles: “Yes, Thomas, Jesus loves you too, but we’re His favorites.” A bit jealous? Maybe a little fearful? Was he thinking, “If Jesus did come, why did He come when I wasn’t here? What could this mean?”


Just days earlier, when Jesus decided to return to Jerusalem, where so many were plotting against Him, it was Thomas who, full of bravado, had said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” [Jn 11:16].

The reality, of course, was quite different. Thomas, like the others, abandoned Jesus. Was Thomas thinking of this? Whatever his thoughts, it would be another week before he would see the risen Jesus for himself. It must have been a rough week. The others, their spirits rejuvenated by their encounter with Jesus, were probably telling him, “Don’t worry, Thomas. He’ll be back. You’ll see.” 

But when Jesus appears the second time, Thomas moves instantly from doubt to genuine faith. You might say, “So what. He had his proof. didn’t he?” Well, yes, he did, but proof only in the resurrection of Jesus. Thomas didn’t exclaim, “My risen Lord,” when he saw Jesus. No, Thomas’ faith takes him well beyond that as he says:

“My Lord and my God” [Jn 20:28].

Jesus had been called many things -- Lord, master, rabbi, teacher, prophet, Son of Man, Son of God – but only Thomas, Thomas moved by the Holy Spirit, makes this ultimate declaration of faith in Jesus Christ. This is the Spirit’s gift to Thomas and Thomas’ gift to us. John includes this incident, so we too can believe in the divinity of Jesus Christ.


Like Thomas we can freely accept or reject this grace to believe, for it’s a grace never forced on us. How does this touch us, we who have not seen and yet believe? You and I haven’t seen the risen Christ, but he is present with us.

Even today, as you watch this Mass from behind your locked doors, Jesus is with you. He’s with you in His Holy Word. And, yes, despite our physical separation, we are gathered together in His Name.

Even His Eucharistic Presence, although you can now experience it only spiritually, is still a very real presence, one that fills the world with His peace.

As Peter reminded the first Christians: In this you rejoice, although now for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials. Yes, there are times in all of our lives – fearful, terrifying, lonely times – when we especially feel His absence. When Jesus seems to have brushed the dust of our lives off His feet. Little wonder He calls us blessed. We don’t see, we suffer, and yet we still believe. We can still drop to our knees and utter with Thomas, “My Lord and my God.”

But is our faith, in itself, enough? Jesus tells us our love for others will be a visible sign that He’s among us – that this is how the world will recognize Him. If the world, then, doesn’t recognize Christ, it must be because the world doesn’t see Him in the lives of those who claim to believe in Him.

As another of my heroes, G. K. Chesterton, once famously said, "The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried."

Yes, it would seem we have our work cut out for us. 

Fortunately, it’s a work Jesus shares. And that’s where our hope must always rest, not in ourselves, but in Jesus Christ – in Him who died for us, who rose for us, who lives for us, and who promised to be with us forever.

Because we believe in the Jesus Christ we have never seen, we may, with the help of God’s grace, learn to see Him in those see every day. In the neighbor, alone and so afraid; in the doctor, the nurse, the aide who work long hours caring for the ill and worry about bringing illness home; in the volunteer who carries food to the hungry…and in so many others.

Yes, brothers nad sisters, Jesus is here. And like Thomas, we see Him and we believe.

Notre Dame

Because I'm tasked with preparing our parish's liturgies, especially during the annual Triduum of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Vigil, I've been more than a little snowed under lately. With lots of liturgy guides to prepare and a rehearsal to plan, there's much to do and little time to do it. I must also practice the Exsultet which I will chant at the start of our Easter Vigil Mass this Saturday evening. And in the midst of it all, I had to meet with my tax guy. I haven't received a refund in years, and have always owed the U.S. Treasury more than a few dollars. I believed it was better that I, rather than the government, be able to use what little money I had. But thanks to the recent tax cut, this year I will actually see a modest refund  What a pleasant surprise. My thanks to the president.

And so today, after completing most of these liturgical preparations, I had intended to post a few comments on current issues facing our nation. But then this afternoon Dear Diane told me of the fire that apparently is destroying Paris' Notre Dame Cathedral. Sitting here in my comfortable easy chair, I am filled with sorrow as I watch the flames consume virtually all of this magnificent structure that has graced God's earth for almost a millennium. 

The Cathedral of Notre Dame Ablaze

Let me share with you a personal irony of sorts. On the table next to my easy chair sits a stack of about a half-dozen books I am currently reading. I suspect Diane has always considered this unusual. My guess is she would prefer I read only one at a time thus eliminating this small pile of books that disturbs her sense of order and neatness. As for me, I find my reading of multiple books comforting, allowing me to adjust my reading to my state of mind. Sometimes I need good fiction, sometimes a little theology, and sometimes a dose of history, whatever... 

Anyway, among these few books on the end table is a delightful history written (and autographed) by Robert Gordon Anderson, and first published in 1944, the year of my birth. The book's title? The Biography of a Cathedral and, yes, it describes the construction of Notre Dame this iconic Gothic church, but more than that, it offers a wonderful history of Paris from the days of Julius Caesar to Saint Louis. I have already read 90% of the book, and tonight will turn sadly to those final pages.

I visited the cathedral twice, once in the summer of 1965, 54 years ago when I was a Naval Academy midshipman, and again 20 years later on a business trip in 1985. On this latter trip I took many photographs inside and outside the church -- all Kodachrome slides -- but the Kodak processor somehow managed to destroy many of the photos, leaving me with only a few dozen slides from the many rolls of film I had taken. But at least I have these few, even though most of them were also badly processed. In reparation, I thought Kodak should finance a return trip to Paris, but no, they decided an apology and five or six new rolls of film were sufficient. 

One of my few photos of Notre Dame (1985)

Like many of Europe's great cathedrals, Notre Dame is filled with magnificent works of art. On that first visit in July 1965, my 20-year-old predecessor was touched most deeply by a beautiful Medieval sculpture in wood. It depicts St. Thomas, the doubter, as he places his hand in the wound in the side of the risen Jesus. Gazing at the sculpture those many years ago, I could hear Thomas' words calling to us and echoing through the ages: "My Lord and my God." 

Thomas and the risen Jesus

The memory of this sculpture hit me today as I realized it had likely been destroyed. This was followed by the thought that Thomas might actually foreshadow today's Western Europe, a collection of nations that has largely rejected its Christian roots and lost its faith in a cloud of self-absorbed, fact-seeking, materialistic doubt. 

Perhaps by allowing the destruction of her cathedral, our Blessed Mother is giving Europe, and all of us, a not too subtle wake-up call that will lead many doubters back to the faith. Moment ago, I watched thousands of secular Parisians standing in the streets, tears flowing down their cheeks, as they witnessed the cathedral's destruction. I could only hope and pray that they would come to realize that the true cause of those tears is not the burning of a building, but the lost faith the destruction of that cathedral represents. How did St. Paul put it?

"We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose" [Rom 8:28].