A few months back, Stephanie and I were babysitting our grandson while his parents were at work, and the little guy had recently learned how to crawl. Suddenly, he speedily escaped me and raced toward the kitchen.
As he began to reach his hand toward the oven door, I shouted, “Hot!” Now, the oven was off but was still quite warm. But that didn’t really matter to him because it was just a word that I bellowed out in a panic so he wouldn’t touch the oven.
But before I could get there, he touched the oven anyway and instantly yanked his hand backwards and whimpered as the extreme warmth infiltrated his tiny little hand. This time, I cried out in a more loving tone, “Hot!” Suddenly, the word “Hot” meant something. It was no longer just a word, because it became a real experience.
Not many of us accept someone else’s reasoning very easily. Children especially have this inherent urge to try things for themselves rather than listening to the word or experience of their parents. (If you are a parent, you know exactly what I’m talking about.) It doesn’t matter what you tell them, they want to encounter the experience themselves so they have proof.
This is not just a characteristic of a child but also for most adults. It’s like when we see a sign that reads, “Wet Paint.” What do we have a tendency to do? Touch it! Because we want proof that the paint is actually wet. Truth be told, we’re always searching for proof.
In today’s gospel, Thomas was not present with the other disciples when their encounter with Jesus happened. We’re not sure exactly where he was or what he was doing, but when he returned, he simply couldn’t believe what he missed. Thomas wanted to believe it, but he was looking for proof, or a personal encounter of his own.
Jesus appears and offers him the proof he is asking for when he said, “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.” The Gospel doesn’t tell us if Thomas did this, but it’s implied that he didn’t. Thomas simply responds, “My Lord and my God.” That was his full confession of trust and belief.
And I think that’s why all of us tend to relate to Thomas. We believe, but we wish we could experience more. We’re looking for proof. We want to have that personal encounter with our Lord; but more often than not, we just sit around waiting for that encounter to happen. But sometimes, if we want to encounter Jesus, we have to leave the comfort and safety of our upper room.
Several years ago, I did just that. I decided to volunteer at a homeless shelter in Aurora. I had some ideas of what it would be like, but man, was I way off. I saw people of different races and nationalities. I saw single adults, but I also saw families with children. I saw people who looked exactly like me, who through some misfortune or stroke of bad luck, found themselves homeless. I witnessed people who had lost everything.
One of my many jobs was the keeper of the keys that opened the lockers that each resident was given. When they wanted access, all I was supposed to do was open their locker without looking inside and leave the room so they had some privacy. One woman needed to get into her locker, so I walked her downstairs to the room where the lockers were. When I opened her locker, I couldn’t help but notice what little was inside. Everything that she had left to her name fit into that small locker. My heart sank in my chest. “My Lord and my God.”
I had many other responsibilities that day, tackling these with a whole new perspective of what it meant to truly be homeless. When I left that day, the residents were hugging and thanking me for spending the day with them and telling me how much my presence meant to them.
I went back to my car and cried like a baby. I had my proof! I encountered Jesus that day, and like Thomas, I was forever changed.
Honestly, I get it. It’s only natural for us to want proof. We say things like, “If only I could see Jesus, I would believe.” Or “If only I could get my prayers answered, then I’d believe.” Or “If only if God showed me one little miracle, then I would certainly believe.” If only, if only, if only.
Here’s the thing: you and I have an encounter with Jesus every single day, but we simply don’t recognize him. But Jesus continues to reveal himself to us.
We encounter Jesus in our spouse, children, family members, friends, strangers, and even those sitting near us right now. We encounter Jesus when we gather here as a community of believers and listen to scripture, in the communal prayers we speak aloud or in the silence of our hearts. We encounter Jesus in the homeless person we pass on the street, in our teachers, and in every first responder. We encounter Jesus when we give of ourselves to help better the community as a whole, just as we heard in our first reading.
And most importantly, we encounter Jesus most fully, most intimately (body, blood, soul, and divinity) in the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. When we approach the altar and consume the host, Christ is in us. Jesus is saying, “I love you so much that I’m going to give you my body. I just don’t want to have a relationship with you. I want to have intimacy with you. Let me abide in you and transform you into something more beautiful.” This transformation of the bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Jesus is meant to transform us from a bunch of imperfect individuals into the Body of Christ so we can become the disciples that God needs us to be.
If you and I want to experience the risen Jesus, we need to trust, have faith, and take that first step. One of my favorite quotes is hanging in my office at home. It reads: You can’t make footprints in the sands of time if you’re sitting on your butt. And who wants to make buttprints in the sands of time? If we want to encounter Jesus, we need to take action.
We’re blessed here at St. Anne with a number of wonderful ministries that do so many good things in our communities. We can get involved in our many direct service ministries (like food pantries, clothing drives, Hope ministries, etc.) but also those social change ministries (like legislative advocacy, community organizing, Migrant and Refugee assistance) and so many more. It’s all about bridging the gaps between those who live in comfortable environments and those struggling in human suffering.
Our Lenten Almsgiving Appeal for the Diocese of Lexington, KY is a great example – and you, our parishioners rose to the challenge.
If you haven’t donated yet, there’s still time to do so. You can donate on our website or drop off a check at the parish office for a few more weeks. Afterall, all our actions and responses should be directed to praising, glorifying, and honoring God for all the blessings he has bestowed on us.
My sisters and brothers, Jesus often reveals himself without any action on our part. But sometimes, we need to take that first step. Therefore, we must find a way to leave the safety of our upper rooms (or our comfort zones) and allow the Holy Spirit to work through us so we can recognize the risen Christ in those around us. Every encounter with Jesus is life changing. When we believe in the risen Christ that we have not seen, then we will learn to love and serve Jesus in the people that we do see – and that is all the proof that we’re ever going to need.
What is our mission in life? Find out here.
