Doubting Thomas

Acts 5:12-16. Ps 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24. Rev 1:9-11a, 12-13, 17-19. Jn 20:19-31

Thomas, Thomas, Thomas! Whatever are we to do with you? What will become of you? You can imagine the scene. It’s very late in the day, the first Easter Sunday. Perhaps it’s even Easter Monday, and the disciples tell Thomas that he’s missed the Lord. “We have seen the Lord!” Yeah, right. And I’m the Queen of Sheba! When He comes and shows me the wounds, then I’ll believe.

This lovely story comes right at the beginning of the early Church. An early Church which is soon growing at an exponential rate. In the Acts of the Apostles we hear of the fervent outpouring of praise and worship at the Portico of Solomon, and those who came to believe in the Lord increased steadily. In future weeks we will hear how entire towns came to hear the Word preached, not least once we bring in St Paul. Even now, people are bringing the sick to lie merely in the shadow of St Peter as he passes by. All of them were cured.

Indeed, this is an exciting time for the Church. Yet we know also that there was great scepticism in first century Palestine. There was real threat to life and to limb for those brave souls who followed not the way of the world but rather the way of Jesus Christ. People talked, in those early days, of following The Way. It was both a seemingly secretive sect of those who gathered in one another’s houses to celebrate a clandestine Mass, and at the same time the disciples spoke out loud and proud, proclaiming He is Risen, Alleluia, alleluia.

Today, also, we are both a Church in secret, a Church facing persecution, a Church shamed by the sins of her priests. Yet we have in our midst those who call out the name of Jesus, those who offer to us a powerful and significant witness to the Lord, those who inspire us to keep true to who we are. In an excellent article in this week’s Tablet, the Dominican, Timothy Radcliffe says “Why stay? I must lay my cards on the table; even if the Church were obviously worse than other Churches, I still would not go. I am not a Catholic because our Church is the best, or even because I like Catholicism. I do love much about my Church but there are aspects of it which I dislike. I am not a Catholic because of a consumer option for an ecclesiastical Waitrose rather than Tesco, but because I believe that it embodies something which is essential to the Christian witness to the Resurrection, visible unity.” He concludes: “We may be embarrassed to admit that we are Catholics, but Jesus kept shameful company from the beginning.”

But what of those who were the shameful company from the beginning, those Apostles and particularly Thomas. He got his wish eight days later that is today. On the 2nd Sunday of Easter our Lord appeared again, showing his new found aptitude for resisting closed doors, and said ‘Peace be with you’ and to Thomas, “put your finger here”; “give me your hand”; “doubt no longer but believe.” Caravaggio takes this image further in his raw and real masterpiece, Doubting Thomas, with the Apostle’s finger lost in the side of Christ. Interestingly it is Jesus’ hand which guides the hand of the suspicious one, as though it was necessary not only for Thomas to trust in Jesus, but also to be guided by him.

Through Thomas’s Trust in Jesus in he is able to finally declare “My Lord and my God”, the strongest possible indication that Christ is indeed the Son of God. The man who walked amongst us is nothing less than God himself. Oh where would we be Thomas without your faith?

St Faustina, the Polish nun to whom Christ also appeared in 1931, introduced to the world the devotion of the Divine Mercy. With her we can confidently say “Jesus I trust in you”. And on this Divine Mercy Sunday, we can join with Thomas, on our knees before the Blessed Sacrament and say “My Lord and my God!” because ‘happy are those who have not seen and yet believe.’

Easter Day Homily

The most memorable homily I heard in my time in seminary, and there were an awful lot of them, contained the simplest yet most profound of sentiments. It was in the barbershop, if I recall correctly, when a young seminarian was asked: why do you want to be a priest? Because I really love Jesus and I want everyone to know it. He makes me happy. I want you to know Jesus and then you will be happy, too.

This sentiment came from a powerhouse of intellect. From a man I greatly admired; a man outstanding in priestly qualities. Though we had never talked of why he was priest, suddenly it became crystal clear. He was a man on a mission – quite literally.

This is what Peter is talking about in the Acts of the Apostles. He says that Jesus has ordered the apostles, as witnesses to the Resurrection, to bring the Good News to His people. This is what I am doing now, this is what we are all doing now in participating at Mass and it is what we all must do when we leave here. The deacon will send us on our way today: Go in the peace of Christ, alleluia, alleluia. This Easter double alleluia underlines that we go praising God. Alleluia means ‘praise God’, a transliteration of the Hebrew Halleluya. Hallel in Hebrew means a joyous praise, to boast in God, or to act madly or foolishly.

So we’re being told to go out and act madly, foolishly. That sounds good to me. It sounds like the actions of one in love. St Augustine said “love is a temporary madness” as anyone who has read or watched Captain Corelli's Mandolin recognises. And we know only fools fall in love.

St Paul reminds us today, we have been brought back to true life with Christ, and thus we are compelled, just like Mary Magdalene to go running. She ran to Simon Peter and the other disciple; they in turn ran to the Tomb and from there Peter brings to all the Good News. To Cornelius and his family he is compelled by Christ to tell the world and to share His love.

Alleluia, Praise God, go out and tell the whole world the Good News, that Jesus Christ is Risen, alleluia. Does this mean we must all become born again Christians? Does this mean we must go up to complete strangers and say “do you know the love the Jesus”? It’s not for all, but what is for all, and is most especially the case for you and for I, is to follow the example of those who first met the Risen Lord.

Now the priest who shared the simple tale of his encounter with the barber is a humble man, an excitable man and a man whom you look at and say, like the Babycham advert of years gone by, I’ll have a babycham! I’ll have whatever he’s having because he is so filled with evident joy and love that I want a little, too.

If you, too, share your joy with those around you, then I guarantee that you will be bringing in people to this Church. Next Easter we’ll be fighting them back and will it not be wonderful? In these challenging times – you only have to read the newspaper – we can become introverted, feeling afraid, perhaps even a little ashamed of being Catholic. Be not afraid. Look what they did to Jesus but that wasn’t enough to hold him down. Oh, no, he rose triumphant and so can we.

Alleluia, sing to Jesus, his the sceptre his the throne. Let’s sing it loud, let’s tell the whole world and we can jolly well start at the barbers!

Risen Conquering Son!

Thanks to Godzdogz for this Exsultet:



But I love this Exultet, too:

The Resurrection changes everything.

The joy of the Easter season is now in full swing. Indeed, there are some who may feel that it is time to look forward now and move onto the next stage. Look to Pentecost and even to ordinary time. Maybe there are those who long to see the green again. This would be typical of me. I rarely stop to smell the grass, to take in that which is present now, to just be.

One of my friends here at Oscott, recently, gave a post communion reflection at Mass. His central theme was “the Resurrection changes everything” and when I reflect on his inspired words, I see the need to respond to the resurrection, the wonder of it, by relishing in that which has changed. Stopping and smelling the grass is now not seen just as relaxation, appreciation or even meditation, it is nothing less than wonder at the new creation. Yes, I need to slow down and enjoy the wonder of the resurrection.

Here are Michael Glover’s words, which he has kindly agreed to let me post on this blog.

During Lent we embraced a sombre tone in the celebration of the liturgy. We took on works of penance, fasting and almsgiving. As we approached Holy Week the chapel was shrouded in purple, hiding all its beauty. On Holy Thursday the Blessed Sacrament was removed and the chapel was made as bare. And on Easter Sunday there was a change…

No more trying to look happy as we aim to fulfil our Lenten observances, the chapel was unveiled and looked better than we can remember, the Blessed Sacrament was brought back and the chapel was filled with flowers, candles and the resounding song of Alleluia!

The Resurrection changes everything. Eastertide celebrates the change from death to life and everything is changed and seen in a new way. Even works of penance are changed; they now have a “post resurrection character”. Ratzinger relates a story of Haydn, who, while he was composing remarked “As I came to utter the words of supplication, I could not suppress my joy but loosed the reins of my elated spirit and wrote ‘allegro’ over the Miserere”. The Resurrection changes everything.

Easter Greetings

Phew, life in the parish has returned to a more reasonable pace. An instant reflection of the holy week/triduum: not so much busy as in lots and lots of frenetic things to be accomplished so much as stress getting it right, worthily, responding to the dignity of the occasion; that sort of thing.

Happy Easter to one and all. I was struck, indeed preached on, the fact that we move immediately from the resurrection on Easter Sunday to Pentecost. As though the purpose of the resurrection is the outpouring of the Spirit. There is no time to be sat idly reflecting on what the Father has done for us through the Son, rather we are driven in response and guided by the Spirit. In other words what we have received, we pass on. To be a good christian, is to live as a good christian. By their fruits you shall know them.

This period of 'quiet' proves an excellent opportunity to catch up on relationships that may have suffered in recent times. Therefore, I will not spend hours on this machine, so much as get out there and be with people. Nonetheless, let us pray for one another through this most holy season. It is, most especially in this octave of Easter, a chance to reflect on just how wonderful is the gift of life, to gift of faith and, indeed, the gift of communion.

Where have you been?

This question was asked of me, since I have blogged so little in recent days, by an interested party. The answer: about the missions, my dear boy, about the missions! Perhaps, in sympathy with the Lord upon being found in the Temple, I'm surprised that I was even asked, since it is clear to me that I have been busy in the parish. How often we forget to communicate, though. How often we make assumptions that others are able to read our minds, or can, some how, telepathically know what we are doing.

It has been a most humbling few days. Truly wonderful and a foretaste, I hope, of the years that lay ahead of me. I have preached, last weekend, on reconciliation and this has had a most profound impression upon my own prayer life. It has led me to think about how we think about sin. What it means to sin and how we judge others whom we assume, almost certainly wrongly, to be better or worse than ourselves. The many people I have talked to about this very issue have felt quite confident to put themselves down and assume that they are far worse sinners than their neighbours. It's left me thinking that people, perhaps, need to love themselves a little more. Maybe allow Jesus to do the judging and assume that they are doing the best that they can.

Also, during the week, I've be wined and dined by some wonderful parishoners who asked only that I said some prayers at their late husbands' graves. What a fantastic and special privilege to be asked! You get fed for this, folks, too. Don't tell me a cleric's life is hard. I was just so touched to be asked to do it, and so pleased that I was able. Listening to their combined wisdom and experience and humility was wonderful. Between them that had over 200 years of humanity under their collective belt. Talk about a lot to learn from them. Thanks, you know who you are. You are amazing, and I hope that I lived up to the cost of a Naked Gourmet Burger, even if the thought of a man in a collar ordering anything naked did cause a titter!

Finally, I've been able to catch up with a friend for a curry. If you are going to be in Wolverhampton - get yourself to Jivan's in town. The most fantastic curry is to be had. What was wonderful? It's easier to list the reasons why it was one of the best nights I've had in a long time

• the food was great
• heat(spiciness) just perfect
• it was cheap (£17.70 for two of us, todos)
• fantastic company
• great chat (deep, deep stuff)
• rough part of town
• just wooden seat (uncomfortable, but worth it)
• acute indigestion at 4am (it must've been good)
• still making me smile 24 hours later

Enjoy life, it's almost Easter, though manic amounts to be achieved before then. Eek!