One week after Easter, the Church celebrates several important realities in today’s Mass.  We celebrate that it is still Easter; that we still rejoice in the light of the Resurrection which has overcome all the darkness in our world and in our lives.  Also, as a sort of culmination of everything we’ve just experienced, we honor the Divine Mercy of the Lord.  And, the most ancient aspect of this eighth day of Easter is remembering the Doubt and then the Understanding of St. Thomas.  We’re told that on this day, Jesus came and stood in the midst of the disciples and said, “Peace be with you,” and showed them his hands and his side.  And they believed and understood and rejoiced.  One of the apostles, St. Thomas, happened not to be there.  He did not have this first experience of the Lord revealing himself to be alive, that it was really him, that something incredible had happened.  And when the other disciples report this magnificent news to him, it’s understandable that he can’t quite get there: his mind and heart were still fixed on a different memory, the memory of the experience of seeing the crucifixion.  The trauma of seeing one of your best friends die that way: it’s completely understandable that this memory continued to haunt him and define his frame of mind.  But the others assure him that the Lord is indeed alive, that they had seen him and heard him, that they had been with him.  They prepared his heart; they helped Thomas to be ready for when the time came for his own experience with the Risen Lord.  So that when he did see him, when he did place his fingers into the Lord’s side and see his nail-marked hands, he was ready immediately to turn and accept the joy of the truth of what had happened, with that great expression of Faith and Understanding: My Lord and My God. 

What the apostles did for Thomas: that’s what we have to do for the people in our lives.  We are people who have already experienced the Risen Lord: we’ve seen him, we’ve heard him, we’ve been with him.  We’re like the other apostles.  And the world around us is filled with Thomases, people who, when you get right down to it, think that Jesus is dead.  Most people regard Jesus as someone who was a real person and who lived at a certain time and place, and is now dead and no longer part of the world.  But we know differently.  We know that he lives.  That he is still here, with us in our world.  Our experience of the Risen Christ should drive us to do for these people, what the apostles did for Thomas.  To proclaim, in as many different ways as we can, with our words, with our manner of life, with our Christian joy, that Christ is alive.  And then we let him do the rest.  The apostles prepared Thomas’ mind and heart, but then the Lord came to him.  The Lord got past every barrier, including Thomas’ doubt, including a locked door, in order to reveal himself to his friend.  He gave Thomas what he needed in order to believe.  That’s true for us and our friends as well.  We don’t do the actual converting of minds and hearts. We can’t.  Only Christ can do that.  We do our little part by cracking open just a little bit the hearts of the people who trust us: and then Christ does the rest; he enters past every locked door and every other obstacle of mind and heart, and shows his glorified wounds to those who are ready to see.  He shows the price of mercy.  But he also shows what mercy is really about.  It’s not about making wounds magically disappear.  They’re still there.  Sin is real.  Suffering is real.  Even death is real.  But redemption is real also.  Salvation is real also.  Eternal life is real also.  This is truth we called to proclaim to those in our lives, to prepare their hearts to see and accept this wonderful surpring news, that Christ is alive, and that he will come personally and offer his mercy to anyone who is willing to accept it.

O Praise the Lord, all you nations; proclaim him, all you peoples.  For his mercy is ever upon us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever.  Amen.  Alleluia.