Homily: Loving is Believing

Year B / Eastertide / Second Sunday 

Readings: Acts 4.32-35/ Psalm 118.2-4, 13-15, 22-24 (R/v 1) / 1 John 5.1-6 / John 20.19-31

We sat in a circle around a box with its top removed. “What do you think is in it?” the facilitator asked. We made our guesses. Then, one by one we went up to the open box and peered in. Some looked surprised. Some were puzzled. Some laughed. Some shook their heads. One or two stared for a long time. We saw what the box contained, and we knew the answer. 

Seeing and knowing is one way we make sense of our lives and our world. We see traffic lights changing, and we know that we should stop or move forward. We see a baby crying and we know it’s time to feed it. We see a rainbow and we know it is because light refracts. And when we see our ordered life unraveling, we know it’s time to re-evaluate our life choices. 

To see and to know is a theme in our gospel reading today. We are all familiar with the story of Thomas; he wanted to see Jesus in order to know that he had indeed risen. He was not satisfied with the disciples’ report of Jesus’ resurrection. He needed certain proof. “Unless I see the wounds and touch them, I will not believe,” Thomas said.

We believe because we see and know. Isn’t this why we pay attention to what we see and how we know? Parents want to see and analyze their children’s academic grades; then, they’d believe the teacher’s remarks. Patients want to see and accept the results of the diagnosis; then, they’d believe in their doctor’s advice.Investors want to see and scrutinize a country’s economic policies; then, they’d believe their investments are right.

These examples suggest that believing is easy; we only need to see and know. But isn’t believing really hard work? Doesn’t believing demand that we surrender control, and have faith and trust? 

Each of us knows how much we struggle to believe in God whom we cannot ever see but profess our faith in at each Sunday Mass we celebrate. Aren’t we sometimes like Thomas: “Unless I see, I won’t believe”? How then can you and I truly see, know and believe God in the risen Jesus who we will never see? Today’s gospel story invites us to reflect on this question. 

The first disciples struggled to make sense of the risen Jesus. The women who went to the tomb on Easter morning and heard the Angel proclaiming Jesus’ resurrection, probably asked, “Has he risen, as he said he would?” The disciples on the road to Emmaus, recognizing the risen Jesus in their shared meal, could have pondered, “Will he always be with us when we break bread in memory of him?” Mary Magdalene upon hearing the voice of her beloved rabbi could have asked, “Is that you, Jesus? Do you love me still?”

Thomas’ story sums up the challenge of Christian discipleship: to find the risen Jesus we cannot see in our everyday lives, to make sense of his presence, and to believe in him. Then, we can love Jesus more dearly, know him more intimately and follow him more closely. 

How can we do this? Not by seeing and believing. But by experiencing how much we are loved.  

Only when Jesus speaks her name does Mary Magdalene know him. At first she couldn’t recognize him, but Mary knew that distinctive voice: the voice that called her to wholeness when she was in sin; the voice that welcomed her into his circle of friends; the voice that told her she was valued in God’s eyes; the voice that answered her or laughed over a meal; the voice that cried out in pain from the cross. Mary knew that voice because it was a voice that had spoken to her in love. Then she knew who it was.* 

Sometimes seeing is not believing; loving is.

And only when Jesus lovingly takes Thomas’ hand to touch his wounded body does Thomas believe. He couldn’t believe Jesus had risen because he had not seen him, but Thomas knew Jesus’ life-giving touch: that touch that healed and restored the sick and the sightless; that touch that multiplied the five fish and two loaves to feed the crowds; that touch that forgave the sinful and welcomed them as his friend; that touch that caressed the wood of the cross upon which he gave offered up his life to God to save us from sin and death. Thomas knew that touch because it originates from the One who came to give the fullness of life. Then Thomas knew that Jesus was alive.

Yes, sometimes seeing is not believing; loving really is.

And what about you and me? Like the first disciples, aren’t we trying to make sense of Jesus, risen and no longer in our midst, yet still with us and for us? Aren’t we experiencing God’s love, and more so God’s mercy, as we follow Jesus in living life and having faith? Haven’t we experienced forgiveness when our sins are forgiven in Confession? Haven’t we known grace when a teacher or employer acknowledges gives us a second chance in spite our mistakes? Haven’t we been loved unconditionally when someone accepts us as we are, and says with great confidence, marry me or be my friend? 

Yes, sometimes seeing is not believing; being loved is believing. 

And why should it matter to you and me that loving is believing? 

When my friends and I peered into that box 34 years ago at a retreat in St Joseph's Institution, this is what we saw: a reflection of ourselves in a mirror. A reflection of ourselves as we were at 16 years old, with our strengths and our weaknesses, our lights and our shadows, our saintliness and our sinfulness. “And this is who you are, who God created you to be; and God created you very good and will always love you, even if you sin,” the facilitator said to sum up the exercise. 

This morning, with Thomas, you and I have also experienced the love of Jesus. Love that his greeting of peace announces. Love that his touch assures. Love that his presence continues to give. Yes, the love of Jesus that always blesses us to continue believing in God and God’s love and mercy.

But Jesus’ love also reflects back to us who we are as Christians. That deep within and alive in each of us is this great Easter gift Jesus has given to all believers, and through us, to the world — a hope-filled faith that can really trust in God’s love to always forgive and God's mercy to always give life. This is the faith that has brought us here, no matter whether we are in a state of grace or in the shadow of sin. This is our faith; it comes from God. This is our faith in Jesus who saves. This is God's gift of Easter faith to you and me. And yes, this is the Christian faith that Jesus celebrates today: “Blessed are they who have not seen and yet believe.”

*Brian Purfield, "Woman, who are you looking for?" (March, 2015)

Preached at St Ignatius Church, Singapore

artwork: detail from painting (Internet: impressionsblog.com)