Sunday, April 11, 2010

Scars that Teach

Second Sunday of Easter

I've always had a soft spot for the apostle Thomas, especiallly when vilified by some after they've read John's Gospel account of  "the Doubting Thomas."   Of the twelve, Thomas clearly is a standout apostle  for wanting to go with Jesus to Jerusalem "to die with him," an extraordinary gesture of awareness and comprehension of what was to come, especiallly in this group of mostly rather unaware and non-comprehending followers, the Twelve.  Perhaps I like Thomas because, like many in my generation, I tend to admire scientists who stoutly demand "to see" before believing.  Perhaps it's because Thomas refused to get caught up in the emotion of the moment -- to be too easily swayed by the enthusiasm of those who had claimed to have seen the risen Christ.

But the Gospel of John is first and foremost a theological reflection of a maturing Christian community (some 40-50 years after the Resurrection).  It's reallly not a chronicle of raw facts.  So, I suspect we really can't know exactly (scientifically) what happened those first few days after the Resurrection.  What we do know is how the world began to change after Jesus' Passion, Death and Resurrection ... starting with those rather ordinary, believable disciples. 

John makes a big point of the resurrected Jesus' compassion for His startled, uncomprehending friends and disciples.  It's this new, resurrected Jesus who takes his time in instructing and then eating (breaking bread) with his companions (Emmaus), of calling them by name (Mary Magdalen), and of having Thomas actually probe his scars of torture, crucifixion, death, failure.... Finding their focus and recognizing the Person for what He now was... well, it took time!  Clearly this is not the Jesus they had earlier expected, the one who would vanquish all enemies and come out (along with His followers) smelling like a rose.  It's the same "Son of Man" who really and horribly died, practically alone and reviled by his people who now, somehow and misteriously, has overcome our worst nightmares.  Thomas and the early Church knew something important: the resurrected Christ must have scars, to be believable, not only to Thomas, but to us.

In my world -- as a missionary priest in the Roman Catholic Church -- these days have been difficult with daily news and commentaries about how so much clergy abuse has taken place in our times and how poorly church authorities have attended to the victims and been responsible with our perpetrators throughout the years.  Current news-bytes and conversations (in Europe particularly)  brings me back to 2002 in the United States when, at least to some American Catholics, Church Authority seemed to have completely imploded.  On hearing story after story, first of clergy abuse of children, minors and other vulnerable people, and then how horribly mis-managed these cases had been by our leaders, many of us were scandalized or shocked, some felt betrayed, disalllusioned or even depressed, most of us were angry (blame someone!), and all of us were affected.  True, we were dealing with our shadow, with sin, but those have been very difficult times from which we are still struggling to resurface, hopeful and enthusiastic about our mission in America. 
Here in Spain, historically and culturally a deeply Catholic country, these are tough times for the Church (certainly the same can be said about Ireland and Germany!).  My guess is that, with increased interest (and openess, at least in many sectors of the Catholic Church) these are not sordid tales that will disappear along with the next celebrity's "event."  These are deep wounds on the Body of Christ, almost always on the poor and defenseless young, on those who depended on religious leaders and preachers to keep them safe; they are very deep and will not be forgotten.  The question is not how to protect the Church (and especially our institutions or "systems")  from further scandal by shieing away from speaking the truth; Grace does not come to those who deny the truth about themselves or refuse to learn how to speak about it openly.  Hopefully we are learning how disasterous (publicly) and sinful (morallly) that impulse has been. 

The question is how to heal those wounds. 

As we review the gospels during these weeks, it should become very clear that Jesus wants his chosen disciples to remember his teaching --despite our habitual distraction, dullness and obstinacy.  He wants us to remember  his signs, as well as our intial blindness.  He insists that we tell his story of  passion and death, while remembering our own fears and tendency toward flight.  And only then, it is in our telling of and believing in his Resurrection that we ourselves can be healed.  And all of this, well, for us (just like for the apostles) it takes time and God's grace!   I believe that, like our predecesors, those sinful, forgiven disciples, we too will be ready and eager to share His story with those who so desperately need to hear Good News these days.