Community in Mission

In today’s Gospel, the risen Lord appeared to the Apostles, who were gathered together in one place. The fact that they were gathered in one place is not without significance, for it is there that the Lord chose to appear to them. One of them was not in the gathering and thus missed the blessing of seeing and experiencing the risen Lord. It might be said that Thomas, the absent Apostle, blocked his blessing.

Some people want Jesus without the Church. No can do. Jesus is found in His Church, among those who have gathered. There is surely joy to be found in a personal relationship with Jesus, but the Lord also announced a special presence whenever two or three are gathered in His name. It is essential for us to discover how Mass attendance is essential for us if we want to experience the healing and blessing of the Lord. This Gospel has a lot to say to us about the need for us to gather together to find the Lord’s blessing in the community of the Church, in His Word, and in the Sacraments. Let’s look at today’s Gospel in five stages.

I. Fearful Fellowship – Notice how the text describes the gathering of the Apostles: On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews … These men are frightened, but they are in the right place. It is Sunday, the first day of the week, and they have gathered together. The text says nothing about what they are doing, only that they have gathered. But in a sense this is all we need to know, for this will set the stage for blessings and for the presence of the Lord.

And these are men who need a blessing! The locked doors signify their fear of the Jewish authorities. One may also assume that they are discouraged, lacking in hope, and maybe even angry. For they have experienced the earthquake that Jesus’ crucifixion was for them. It is true that some of the women in their midst claim to have seen Him alive, but now it is night and there have been no other sightings of which they have heard.

But, thanks be to God, they have gathered. It is not uncommon for those who have “stuff” going on in their lives to retreat, withdraw, and even hide. Of course this is probably the worst thing that one can do. And it would seem that Thomas has taken this approach, though his absence is not explained. Their gathering, as we shall see, is an essential part of the solution for everything that afflicts them. This gathering is the place in which their new hope, new hearts, and new minds will dawn.

And so it is for us, too, afflicted as we are in so many ways, troubled at some times and joyful at others, there is the critical importance of gathering each Sunday, each first day of the week. In every Mass, the Lord prepares blessings for us. I am powerfully aware that every Mass I celebrate, especially Sunday Mass, is a source of powerful blessings for me. Not only does God instruct me with His Word and feed me with His Body and Blood, He also helps form me through the presence and praise of others: the people I have been privileged to serve. I don’t know where I’d be if it were not for the steady support of the people of God: their prayers, their praise, their witness, and their encouragement.

The Book of Hebrews states well the purpose and blessing of our liturgical gatherings:

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the Day drawing near (Heb 10:22-25).

So the Apostles are meeting together, encouraging one another. As we shall see, they are about to be blessed, but the blessing occurs only the context of the gathering, so Thomas will miss it. This blessing is only for those who are there. So it is for us, too, who also have blessings waiting but only if we are present, gathered for Holy Mass. Don’t block your blessings!

II. Fabulous Fact – Then comes the blessing: For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them (Matt 18:20). The text from today’s Gospel says, 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.”

Suddenly there is a completely new reality, a new hope, a new vision. Note that there is also a new serenity, a peace, a shalom. Not only do they see and come to experience a wholly new reality, they also receive an inner peace. Observe again that this is only to those who are present.

This is a basic purpose of the gathering we call the Sacred Liturgy. It is here that we are invited to encounter the living Lord, who ministers to us and offers us peace. Through His word, we are increasingly enabled to see things in a wholly new way, one that gives us hope, clarity, and confidence. Our lives are reordered. Inwardly, too, a greater peace is meant to come upon us as the truth of this newer vision begins to transform us, giving us a new mind and heart. Looking to the altar, I draw confidence that the Lord has prepared a table for me in the sight of my enemies and my cup is overflowing (Ps 23). The Eucharist is thus the sign of our victory and our election; as we receive the Body and the Blood of the Lord, we are gradually transformed into the very likeness of Christ.

Is this your experience of the gathering we call the Mass? Is it a transformative reality, or just a tedious ritual?

As for me, I can say that I am being changed, transformed into a new man, into Christ, by this weekly, indeed daily gathering we call the Mass. I have seen my mind and heart changed and renewed. I see things more clearly and have greater hope, joy, and serenity. I cannot imagine what my life would be like were it not for this gathering of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, where Jesus is present to me and says, “Shalom, peace be with you.” Over the years, I am a changed man.

Yes, the Mass works. It transforms; it gives a new mind and heart. Don’t block your blessings; be there every Sunday.

III. Forgiving Fidelity – Next comes something quite extraordinary, something that simply cannot take place within a private notion of faith. The text says, “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.”

In this remarkable moment, the Lord gives the Apostles the power to forgive sin. Note that He is not simply giving them the ability to announce that we are forgiven; He is giving them the juridical power to forgive, or in certain cases to withhold/delay forgiveness. This is extraordinary! Not only has He given this authority to men (cf Matt 9:8), He has given it to the very men who abandoned Him (with the exception of John) at His crucifixion. These are men who are well aware of their shortcomings. Perhaps it is only because Jesus knows of their awareness that He can truly trust them with such power.

There are those who deny that Confession is a biblical sacrament, but here it is in today’s Gospel. There are other texts in Scripture showing Confession to be quite biblical:

1. Also many of those who were now believers came, confessing and divulging their practices (Acts 19:18).
2. Is any one of you sick? He should call the presbyters of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective (James 5:14-16).

Many consider it sufficient to speak to God privately about their sins, but the Scriptures instruct us away from such a solitary notion and bid us to approach the Church. The Lord gives the Apostles the authority to adjudicate and then to absolve or retain sins, but this presupposes that someone has first approached them for such absolution. St. Paul was approached by the believers in Ephesus, who made open declaration of their sins. The Book of James also places the forgiveness of sins in the context of the calling of the presbyters, the priests of the Church, and sees this as the fulfillment of this passage: declare your sins to one another … the prayer of the righteous man has great power (James 5:16).

Thus, again, there is a communal context for blessing, not merely a private one. I have written more on the biblical roots of Confession here: The Sacrament of Confession.

IV. Faltering Fellowship – We have already noted that Thomas blocked his blessing by not being present. The text says, 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.”

Thomas exhibits faltering fellowship in two ways:

First, he is not with the other Apostles on resurrection evening, thus he misses the blessing of seeing and experiencing the resurrection and the Lord.

Second, Thomas exhibits faltering fellowship by refusing to believe the testimony of the Church that the Lord has risen.

One of the most problematic aspects of many people’s faith is that they do not understand that the Church is an object of faith. In the Creed every Sunday, we profess to believe in God the Father and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, and to believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord and giver of life. But we are not done yet. We go on to say that we believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. We know and believe what we do about Jesus Christ on the basis of what the Church hands on from the apostles. Some say, “No, I believe in what the Bible says,” but the Bible is a book of the Church. God has given it to us through the Church who, by God’s grace, collected and compiled its contents and vouches for the veracity of the Scriptures. Without the Church there would be no Bible.

Therefore, in rejecting the testimony of the Church, Thomas is breaking fellowship and refusing to believe in what the Church, established by Christ to speak in His name (e.g. Lk 24:48; Lk 10:16; Matt 18:17; Jn 14:26; 1 Tim 3:15; inter al.), teaches. We, too, falter in our fellowship with the Church if we refuse to believe the testimony of the Church in matters of faith and morals. Here, too, is a privatization of faith, a rejection of fellowship, and a refusal to gather with the Church and accept what she proclaims through her Scriptures, Tradition, and the catechism.

Note that as long as Thomas is not present, he has blocked his blessings. He must return to gather with the others in order to overcome his struggle with the faith.

V. Firmer Faith – Thomas then returns to fellowship with the other Apostles. Just as we do not know the reason for his absence, his return is also unexplained. Some may wish to chalk up his absence to some insignificant factor such as being busy, or in ill health, or some other largely neutral factor, but John seldom provides us detail for no reason. Further, Thomas does refuse to believe the testimony of the others, which is not a neutral fact.

But, praise God, Thomas is now back with the others and in the proper place for a blessing. Whatever his struggle with the faith, he has chosen to work it out in the context of fellowship with the Church. He has gathered with the others. Now comes the blessing.

You know the story, but the point here for us is that whatever our doubts and difficulties with the faith, we need to keep gathering with the Church. In some ways faith is like a stained glass window that is best appreciated from inside the Church. From the outside there may seem very little about it that is beautiful. It may even look dirty and leaden, but once one ventures inside and adjusts to the light, one can see that the window radiates beauty.

It is often this way with the faith. I have found that I could only really appreciate some of the more difficult teachings of the Church after years of fellowship and instruction by the Church, in the liturgy and in other ways. As my fellowship and communion have grown more intense, my faith has become clearer and more firm.

Now that he is inside the room, Thomas sees the Lord. When he was outside, he did not see and so he doubted. The eyes of our faith see far more than our fleshly eyes, but in order to see and experience our blessings, we must gather; we must be in the Church.

Finally, it is a provocative but essential truth that Christ is found in the Church. Some want Christ without the Church. No can do. He is found in the gathering of the Church, the ekklesia, the assembly of those called out. Any aspects of His presence that are found outside the Church are mere glimpses, shadows emanating from the Church. He must be sought where He is found, among sinners in His Church. The Church is His Body and His Bride. It is here that He is found. “Feeling” His presence while alone on some mountaintop can never compare to hearing the priest say, “Behold the Lamb of God.”

Thomas found Him, but only when he gathered with the others. It is Christ’s will to gather us and unite us (Jn 17:21). Congregavit nos in unum Christi amor (The love of Christ has gathered us in one).

Note: This Sunday is also Divine Mercy Sunday. I published a homily in the past (Perfect Mercy) with this focus.

When Christ rose from the dead, His body was the same one that had been cast down in death. Yet it manifests qualities not currently enjoyed by our bodies. It was truly Christ’s same body, with its bones and muscles, but it was also a glorified body, wholly reflective of and subservient to the glory and faculties of His soul. He could appear and disappear at will, be somewhere at one moment and then elsewhere the next, and so forth.

St. Thomas Aquinas teaches that in order for the resurrection to be a true one, the same body that fell and died now rises and lives. Thomas writes,

That is said to rise, which fell. [So] Christ’s body fell by death … inasmuch as the soul, which was its formal perfection, was separated from it. Hence, in order for it to be a true resurrection, it was necessary for the same body of Christ to be once more united with the same soul (Summa Theologiae III, Q. 51, Art. 1).

But why did the Lord’s soul not shine through perfectly before the resurrection? Why did He suffer fatigue? Why could He not appear and disappear at will? Thomas answers,

Christ’s soul was glorified from the instant of His conception by perfect fruition of the Godhead. But … owing to the Divine economy, the glory did not pass from His soul to His body, in order that by the Passion He might accomplish the mystery of our redemption. Consequently, when this mystery of Christ’s Passion and death was finished, straightway the soul communicated its glory to the risen body in the Resurrection; and so that body was made glorious (ST III, Q. 51, Art. 2).

In rising, Christ takes up His same, true body, but it now also manifests a perfected glory. When our bodies rise on the last day, the same will be true of ours.

But if all this be the case, then why are Christ’s wounds visible in His glorified body? Are not wounds and scars inconsistent with a glorified body? St. Thomas provides five reasons that Christ’s wounds are fitting in His glorified body. His reflections, from the Summa Theologiae III, Q. 54, Art. 4, are beautiful and poignant. St. Thomas’ words are presented below in bold, black italics, while my remarks appear plain red text.

It was fitting for Christ’s soul at His Resurrection to resume the body with its scars. In the first place, for Christ’s own glory. For Bede says on Luke 24:40 that He kept His scars not from inability to heal them, “but to wear them as an everlasting trophy of His victory.” Hence Augustine says (De Civ. Dei xxii): “Perhaps in that kingdom we shall see on the bodies of the Martyrs the traces of the wounds which they bore for Christ’s name: because it will not be a deformity, but a dignity in them; and a certain kind of beauty will shine in them, in the body, though not of the body.”

These wounds are a dignity not a deformity, a sign of love not of loss, an indication of obedience not of onerousness. Through His wounds the Lord can say, “Here is what the world did to me, and yet I live. Here is the cost of your redemption and the lavishness of my love.”

Secondly, to confirm the hearts of the disciples as to “the faith in His Resurrection” (Bede, on Luke 24:40).

This is what theologians refer to as “continuity.” The wounds demonstrate that the same body that died on the cross is the same body the disciples now see standing before them. Continuity means that Christ has not taken up or fashioned some new body or a similar body. Christ is truly risen. The Greek word for resurrection is anastasis, which literally means to stand again. The English word resurrection means the same thing: re (again) + surrexit (he stands). None of this would be true if some different body were before them, no matter how similar. Thus Christ’s wounds confirm the truth of the resurrection.

Thirdly, “that when He pleads for us with the Father, He may always show the manner of death He endured for us” (Bede, on Luke 24:40).

Beautiful! The picture here is of the Son, Jesus, showing His wounds to his Father and saying, “See how I have love them, Father. Have mercy on them.”

Elsewhere, Scripture says, Consequently, Jesus is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them. For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens. He has no need, like those high priests, to offer sacrifices daily, first for his own sins and then for those of the people, since he did this once for all when he offered up himself (Heb 7:25-27).

Fourthly, “that He may convince those redeemed in His blood, how mercifully they have been helped, as He exposes before them the traces of the same death” (Bede, on Luke 24:40).

To those who doubt the Lord’s love or understanding of our trials, Christ’s wounds speak tenderly and clearly of His love and of the price He was willing to pay. His wounds are more eloquent testimony than any words could be. Is God merciful? Does God understand or care at all about our condition? Look to the wounds of Christ; dwell in them. Take shelter in the wounds of Christ.

Lastly, “that in the Judgment Day He may upbraid them with their just condemnation” (Bede, on Luke 24:40). Hence, as Augustine says (De Symb. ii): “… So will [Christ] show His wounds to His enemies, so that He who is the Truth may convict them, saying: ‘Behold the man whom you crucified; see the wounds you inflicted; recognize the side you pierced, since it was opened by you and for you, yet you would not enter.’”

Such powerful and moving words, in this case from St Augustine. There is also an answer here to those who think that God is simply harsh on Judgment Day. In effect He will say, “I endured suffering from you out of love for you. When I was on the Cross, the soldier pierced my side. My heart was literally opened for you and still you would not enter. What more could I have done than to allow your own sins to be your redemption? Still you refused.”

In spite of receiving lifelong graces and unmerited favors and blessings, in spite of God’s call echoing in their depths, many still refuse God’s offer. It is such a tragedy that some hearts are so hardened. The wounds of Christ testify to the justice of God’s only (and final) recourse: to allow them to live apart from Him. Accepting the choice of their free will, God’s last act is simply to recognize their refusal and say, “you would not enter.”

Dwell in the wounds of Christ.

Did Christ have to rise? No, God could have chosen other methods to show us His justice and love. However, for many reasons it was fitting that Jesus should rise bodily and present Himself to His disciples and other believers.

St. Thomas Aquinas presents us with five reasons that the resurrection was fitting. Let’s examine his teaching. St. Thomas’ writing is presented bold, black italics, while my inferior comments appear in plain red text. The teaching is drawn from the Summa Theologiae III, Q. 53, Art. 1.

It behooved Christ to rise again, for five reasons.

First of all; for the commendation of Divine Justice, to which it belongs to exalt them who humble themselves for God’s sake, according to Luke 1:52: “He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble.” Consequently, because Christ humbled Himself even to the death of the Cross, from love and obedience to God, it behooved Him to be uplifted by God to a glorious resurrection; hence it is said in His Person (Psalm 138:2): “Thou hast known,” i.e. approved, “my sitting down,” i.e. My humiliation and Passion, “and my rising up,” i.e. My glorification in the resurrection; as the gloss expounds.

God has put His justice in our hearts and it is something for which every human being ultimately longs. While the object of our sense of justice may sometimes be wrong (for some perceive the details of justice wrongly, seeing a grievance where there is none or failing to see injustice where it exists), the longing for justice is hard-wired in our soul.

That acts of murder, theft, violence, injustice to the poor and innocent, and so forth might go unaddressed offends against our deepest sensibilities. God, who put this sense of justice in us—a metaphysical concept that seems wholly lacking in animals—confirms His own justice in Jesus rising from the dead.

Although God’s justice may at times seem delayed, it will come. In the final judgement, all will be set right; hidden deeds and crimes will be disclosed and prosecuted and the truth of God will stand forth vindicated.

This should both console and sober us. For if God’s justice tarries, it is only so as to give us time to repent. There is a day of final justice appointed for this world. Christ’s resurrection proves the world wrong (Jn 16:8-9) and vindicates God’s truth. It sets before us God’s justice so that we understand that nothing unavenged will ultimately remain.

Secondly, for our instruction in the faith, since our belief in Christ’s Godhead is confirmed by His rising again, because, according to 2 Corinthians 13:4, “although He was crucified through weakness, yet He liveth by the power of God.” And therefore it is written (1 Corinthians 15:14): “If Christ be not risen again, then is our preaching vain, and our faith is also vain”: and (Psalm 29:10): “What profit is there in my blood?” that is, in the shedding of My blood, “while I go down,” as by various degrees of evils, “into corruption”? As though He were to answer: “None. ‘For if I do not at once rise again but My body be corrupted, I shall preach to no one, I shall gain no one,’” as the gloss expounds.

The resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead is the most fundamental of Christian dogmas. If this be not true, then let’s just call the rest of the whole thing off! However, since Christ is raised from the dead, all of what He taught is confirmed and worthy of our faith. He who said I AM the truth (i.e., I am truth itself and all that I have spoken to you is thereby true) has this confirmed by His resurrection. The truth of the resurrection confirms His divinity and the veracity of everything else He proclaimed and announced. Thus the resurrection is fitting for instruction in all the truths of faith.

Thirdly, for the raising of our hope, since through seeing Christ, who is our head, rise again, we hope that we likewise shall rise again. Hence it is written (1 Corinthians 15:12): “Now if Christ be preached that He rose from the dead, how do some among you say, that there is no resurrection of the dead?” And (Job 19:25-27): “I know,” that is with certainty of faith, “that my Redeemer,” i.e., Christ, “liveth,” having risen from the dead; “and” therefore “in the last day I shall rise out of the earth … this my hope is laid up in my bosom.”

Hope is the confident expectation of God’s help in attaining eternal life with Him. What can give greater confidence than to see Christ, who was so brutally struck down, stand victorious over sin and death? Whatever we endure in this life of our own crosses, we can confidently expect to stand victorious over them as well. We shall have the victory in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Indeed, even now, we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose (Rom 8:28).

Fourthly, to set in order the lives of the faithful: according to Romans 6:4: “As Christ is risen from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we also may walk in newness of life”: and further on; “Christ rising from the dead dieth now no more; so do you also reckon that you are dead to sin, but alive to God.”

In His resurrection, Jesus shows not only His divinity, but also a transformed humanity. While in His sinlessness prior to the resurrection He already showed forth a life free from disorder, in His resurrected humanity He shows this even more gloriously. He manifests qualities such as agility, subtlety, and clarity. (I have written more about that here.)

Some of these last qualities will be known by us only when our bodies rise, perfected and glorified. Even now, though, the Lord, by the grace of His passion, death, and resurrection, has purchased for us a new life—a life transformed and increasingly free from sin, sorrow, regret, anger, greed, lust, and all forms of negativity. To be a new creation in Christ is to be more confident, serene, joyful, virtuous, and chaste. It is to live a life that is orderly and properly directed to our noble and glorious end: life with God forever.

Jesus, in his resurrection, manifests this capacity for us to walk in newness of life.

Fifthly, in order to complete the work of our salvation: because, just as for this reason did He endure evil things in dying that He might deliver us from evil, so was He glorified in rising again in order to advance us towards good things; according to Romans 4:25: “He was delivered up for our sins, and rose again for our justification.”

Thus it is one thing to be forgiven of our sins, but God does more by healing us increasingly of sin’s effects. The chief effect of sin was our alienation from the Father, but in Jesus, man returned to God. To be justified is to be in a right relationship with the Father, and that relationship, like all relationships, changes us. In Jesus, risen from the dead, we are restored to the Father and rightly called sons of God because we are made members of the risen and glorified Body of Christ, who is the Son of God. In our risen and ascended Christ and as members of His Body, we sit at the Father’s right in glory, provided that we do not sever our relationship with Christ by serious sin.

One option for Easter Sunday morning’s Mass is from the Gospel of John (20:1-8). (I have written before on the Matthean Gospel option (here)). Like most of the resurrection accounts, John’s version paints a portrait of a journey that some of the early disciples have to make: out of fear and into faith. It shows the need to experience the resurrection and then come to understand it more deeply. While the Gospel account begins with Mary Magdalene, the focus quickly shifts to St. John; let’s study his journey.

I. Reaction Mode – The text begins by describing everyone as being in reaction mode, quite literally running about in a panic! On the first day of the week, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark, and saw the stone removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved, and told them, “They have taken the Lord from the tomb, and we don’t know where they put him.”

The text describes the opening moments as “still dark.” John is likely trying to do more than tell us the time of day. The deeper point is that there is still a darkness that envelops everyone’s mind.  The darkness makes it difficult for us to see; our fears and sorrows can blind us.

Mary Magdalene sees direct evidence of the resurrection but presumes the worst: that grave robbers have snatched the Lord’s body! It doesn’t even occur to her to remember that Jesus had said that He would rise on the third day and that this was that very third day. She goes immediately into reaction mode instead of reflection mode. Her mind jumps to the worst conclusion; by reacting and failing to reflect, she looks right at the blessing and sees a curse.

We also tend to do this. We look at our life and see only the burdens instead of the blessings.

1. I clutch my blanket and growl when the alarm goes off instead of thinking, “Thank you, Lord, that I can hear; there are many who are deaf. Thank you that I have the strength to rise; there are many who do not.”
2. Even though the first hour of the day may be hectic: socks are lost, toast is burned, tempers are short, and the children are loud; we ought to be thinking, “Thank you, Lord, for my family; there are many who are lonely.”
3. We can even be thankful for the taxes we pay because it means we’re employed, for the clothes that fit a little too snugly because it means we have enough to eat, for the heating bill because it means we are warm, for the weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day because it means we have been productive.

Every day millions of things go right and only a handful go wrong. What will we focus on? Will we look right at the signs of our blessings and call them burdens or will we thank the Lord? Do we live lives that are reactive and negative or do we live reflectively, remembering that the Lord says that even our burdens are gifts in strange packages? And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28).

Do we know this, or are we like the disciples on that early morning when it was still dark, looking right at the blessings but drawing only negative conclusions, reacting and failing to reflect?

II. Recovery mode – The text goes on to describe a certain subtle move from reaction to reflection. So Peter and the other disciple went out and came to the tomb. They both ran, but the other disciple ran faster than Peter and arrived at the tomb first; he bent down and saw the burial cloths there, but did not go in.

Mary Magdalene’s anxiety is contagious. She comes running to the disciples, all out of breath, and says that “they” (whoever “they” are) have taken the Lord (she speaks of Him as a corpse) and “we” (she and the other women who were with her) don’t know where they put Him (again, she speaks of Him as an inanimate corpse). Mary’s panic triggers that same reaction in the disciples. Now they’re all running! The mad dash to the tomb has begun.

Notice, though, that they are hurrying so that they can verify the grave robbery, not the resurrection. Like Mary, they didn’t take the time to reflect and perhaps remember that the Lord had said He would rise on the third day and that this was the third day. Instead, they also panic, rushing forth to try to confirm their worst fears.

But note a subtlety: John runs faster than Peter. Some scholars say it indicates merely that John was the younger man. I would argue, however, that it signals hope. The Holy Spirit, speaking through John, is not likely interested in passing things like youth. Some of the Fathers of the Church see a greater truth at work in the love and mystical tradition that John symbolizes. He was the “disciple whom Jesus loved,” the disciple who knew and experienced that love of God. Love often sees what knowledge and authority can only appreciate and later affirm. Love gets there first.

There is a different verse in Scripture that I believe explains John’s strength (manifested in his speed):

But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint (Is 40:31).

Perhaps John runs faster because he begins to move from reaction to reflection and remembrance. When you run quickly it’s hard to talk, so you tend to recede alone into your thoughts. There is something about love that enlightens, that recalls what the beloved has said. Perhaps John begins to think, to reflect and consider these things:

1. Didn’t Jesus say He’d rise three days later and isn’t this that day?
2. Didn’t the Lord deliver Daniel?
3. Didn’t He deliver Noah from the flood?
4. Didn’t He deliver Joseph from the hands of his brothers and from the deep dungeon?
5. Didn’t He deliver Moses and the people from Egypt?
6. Didn’t He deliver David from Goliath and Saul?
7. Didn’t He deliver Jonah from the whale?
8. Didn’t He deliver Queen Esther and the people from wicked men?
9. Didn’t He deliver Susanna from her false accusers?
10. Didn’t He deliver Judith from Holofernes?
11. Didn’t Jesus raise the dead?
12. Didn’t God promise to deliver the just from all their trials?
13. As for me, I know that my redeemer liveth!

Something started to happen inside John. I have it on the best of authority that he began to sing this song in his heart as he ran:

“I don’t feel no ways tired. Come too far from where I started from. Nobody told me that the road would be easy but I don’t believe he brought me this far to leave me.”

Yes, John is in recovery now. He has moved from reaction to reflection. He is starting to regain his faith.

The text says that John looked in and saw the burial cloths, but waited for Peter. Mystics and lovers may get there first, but the Church has a Magisterium that must be respected, too.

III. Reassessment mode – In life we must often reassess our initial reactions as further evidence comes in. Peter and John must take a fresh look at the evidence from their own perspective. The text says, When Simon Peter arrived after him, he went into the tomb and saw the burial cloths [lying] there, and the cloth that had covered his head, not with the burial cloths but rolled up in a separate place.

Mary Magdalene’s assessment was that grave robbers must have struck, but the evidence for that seems weak. Grave robbers typically sought the fine linens in which the dead were buried. Yet here are the linens while the body is gone. If they were going to take the body, why not also take the valuable grave linens? The Greek text describes the clothes as κείμενα (keimena)—lying stretched out in place, in order. It is almost as if the clothes simply “deflated” in place when the body they covered disappeared. Finally, the most expensive cloth of all, the σουδάριον (soudarion), lies folded (rolled up, in some translations) in a separate place. Grave robbers would not leave the most valuable things behind. And surely, even if for some strange reason they wanted the body rather than the linens, they would not have bothered to carefully unwrap and fold things, leaving them all stretched out in an orderly way. Robbers work quickly; they snatch things and leave disarray in their wake.

Life is like this: you can’t simply accept the first interpretation of things. Every reporter knows that “in the fog of war” the first reports are often wrong. We have to be careful not to jump to conclusions just because someone else is worried about something. Sometimes we need to take a fresh look at the evidence and interpret it as people of faith and hope, as men and women who know that although God may test us He will not forsake us.

John is now looking at the same evidence that Mary Magdalene did, but his faith and hope give him a different vision. His capacity to move beyond fearful reaction to faithful reflection is changing the picture.

We know little of the reaction of Peter or Mary Magdalene at this point; the focus is on John. And the focus is on you. What do you see in life? Do you see grave robbers, or are you willing to reconsider and move from knee-jerk fear to reflective faith?

Does your resurrection faith make you ready to reassess the bad news you receive and look for blessings, even in crosses?

IV. Resurrection Mode – Somewhat cryptically, the text now focuses on the reaction and mindset of St. John. Then the other disciple also went in, the one who had arrived at the tomb first, and he saw and believed. For they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead.

On one level the text says that St. John saw and believed. Does this mean merely that he now believed Mary Magdalene’s story that the body was gone? As is almost always the case with John’s Gospel, there is both a plain meaning and a deeper one. The text says that he ἐπίστευσεν (episteusen); he “believed.” The verb here is in the aorist tense, a tense that generally portrays a situation as simple or undivided, that is, as having a perfective (completed) aspect. In other words, something has come to fruition in him.

Yet the text also seems to qualify, saying, they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead. It is as if to say that John came to believe that Jesus had risen but had not yet come to fully understand all the scriptural connections and how this had to be. He only knew in his heart by love and through this evidence that Jesus was risen. Deeper understanding would have to come later.

For our purposes, let us observe that St. John has gone from fear to faith. He has not yet seen Jesus alive, but he believes based on the evidence and on what his own heart and mind tell him.

At this moment John is like us. He has not seen but he believes. Neither have we seen, but we believe. John would see him alive soon enough and so will we!

We may not have an advanced degree in Scripture, but through love we too can know that He lives. Why and how? Because of the same evidence:

1. The grave clothes of my old life are strewn before me.
2. I am rising to new life.
3. I am experiencing greater victory over sin.
4. Old sins and my old Adam are being put to death.
5. The life of the new Adam, Christ, is coming alive.
6. I am being set free and have hope and confidence, new life and new gifts.
7. I have increasing gratitude, courage, and a deep peace that tells me that everything is all right.
8. The grave clothes of my old way of life lie stretched out before me and I now wear a new robe of righteousness.
9. I am not what I want to be but I am not what I used to be.

So we, like John, see. We do not see the risen Lord—not yet anyway, but we see the evidence and we believe.

St. John leaves this scene as a believer. His faith may not be the fully perfected faith that it will become, but he does believe. John has gone from fear to faith, from reaction to reflection, from panic to peace.

Some years ago I was listening to an old Paul Simon song, “Mother and Child Reunion.” My mind went to Good Friday, applying the lyrics to Jesus and Mary on that “strange and mournful day,” as the song puts it.

Last year I put pictures to the song to make the video below. Some who have seen it laugh and call it a stretch, but others tell me that they will never hear the song the same way again. You decide.

On a day that overwhelms us with its heavy themes, something about the love of a mother for her son and of a son for his mother puts things into powerful perspective.