2nd Sunday of Easter, Divine Mercy Sunday (Fr. Francis)

In Saint Faustina’s now famous Diary, she attributes these words to our Lord:

“Encourage souls to place great trust in My fathomless mercy. Let the weak, sinful soul have no fear to approach Me, for even if it had more sins than there are grains of sand in the world, all will be drowned in the immeasurable depths of My mercy.”

Our Psalm today as well speaks to the endless mercy of God:

Let the house of Israel say,
“His mercy endures forever.”
Let the house of Aaron say,
“His mercy endures forever.”
Let those who fear the LORD say,
“His mercy endures forever.”

It is comforting indeed to all of us to know that God’s mercy is beyond anything that we could ever comprehend this side of heaven. But simply understanding that this is true is not always enough for us to embrace it and believe it in our heart. So often in matters of faith, we struggle to fully accept what we cannot fully comprehend with our limited abilities.

Do we not see this dilemma played out in our belief regarding the real presence in the Eucharist? We know from our Lord that it is true, and we learn from his Church that it is true, but many struggle to fully believe and accept it because we cannot comprehend it with our human limitations.

This is why the story of St. Thomas the Apostle is so appropriate on this Divine Mercy Sunday. The words of Thomas speak to us of a journey of faith, a journey that reaches its apex in the endless mercy of our Lord.

Although Thomas was one of the twelve apostles of Jesus, we don’t know very much about his life outside of the traditions that have been passed down. Tradition says that at some point after Jesus’s resurrection Thomas traveled to India, where he converted many people to Christianity.

Thomas speaks just four times in the Gospels. But if we take his four quotes in sequence, they speak volumes about what it means to come to the Faith. And so let us look at the four quotes of Thomas.

The first time we hear from Thomas in the Bible is when Jesus tells the Apostles that Lazarus has died and that he wants to go to Judea to be with him. The problem is that Jesus and his disciples had just left Judea, and the people there had previously threatened to stone him. For this reason, Thomas was not very excited about going back. Thomas responds to Jesus in frustration, saying, “Let us go also to die with him.”

The second quote from Thomas comes after Jesus says that he is going to the Father and that his Apostles know the way. Thomas responds, “Lord, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” This response is one of questioning.

The third and fourth lines from Thomas are found in today’s Gospel. First he says, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” He is seeking proof before he will put his trust in what he has heard.

And the final words of Thomas come when he responds with unconditional surrender, “My Lord and my God.”

Four quotes punctuated by four emotions that depict so well a journey of faith: frustration, questioning, seeking proof, and unconditional surrender. Is this not the pattern that is followed in coming to a life of faith? Our frustration comes when we as non-believers hear others speaking of their love for Christ, but it makes no sense to us. But if we are willing to open our hearts to the Lord’s will in some small way, we begin to question. Can it be real? That questioning so often leads to doubt: I have not yet felt him in my life and so I find it hard to believe. I need proof. And ultimately the Lord in his goodness gives us the proof we need through confirmation in prayer, or wonderful signs that speak to us in our unique circumstances, or a warm sense of his love that fills our heart and makes his presence real to us.

But we must always remember that it is only because of his divine mercy that the sequence continues. Indeed, as was true for dear Thomas, in a journey of faith it is often not we who relentlessly pursue the Lord, but rather the Lord who relentlessly pursues us. We Christians have a unique aspect to our faith that no other faith has — at least none that I am aware of. We have a God who mercifully seeks us out, whereas in most other faiths their god — or whatever higher source is contemplated — must be pursued by us.

This is a tremendous confirmation of his mercy: he does not give up on us when we are frustrated, when we question, and when we seek proof. Rather, he continues to pursue us until he can ultimately win us over. Of course, there is action needed on our part in that we must make the decision to welcome him in, but his divine mercy is the thread that ties it all together. His mercy is so great that no sin can overcome it, and for this we give thanks today on this Divine Mercy Sunday.

To many, it may seem ironic that we celebrate the divine mercy of God amidst this pandemic which has caused so much chaos and death. Where is the mercy, you may ask? All I see are pain and suffering.

This is understandable in some regard, but it speaks to a bit of a misunderstanding of what divine mercy is and how it is revealed in our world.

We notice in today’s reading that in his resurrected state Jesus still bore the wounds of his crucifixion. Could they have been healed in his glorified body? Of course they could have been, if that were his desire, but they were not. Why did he still bear these wounds?

It seems that his wounds showed both the victory of his resurrection and the fact that he is forever fixed in the act of love in which he died. A love that was poured out for you — and for me. A love that was manifested in his crucifixion, which ultimately proved his divine mercy for each and every one of us. It was only through a mercy beyond our comprehension that the Creator would give his life for his sinful creation.

When we consider this in light of our current plight, his wounds speak to the fact that his mercy does not in some way seek to cover up or gloss over the harsh realities of our life as disciples. The reality of suffering, of pain, of death, and, yes, even of this pandemic is not something that divine mercy will eliminate. Rather, it is something that divine mercy will give us the strength to navigate with the knowledge and conviction that we are loved, and that regardless of what we may experience here on earth, there are better days ahead for all who believe.

Divine mercy is not a naïve mercy that seeks to make everything right. If it were, when Jesus rose from the dead he could have ended all pain and suffering. But this would have also come with an end to our free will. Rather, divine mercy is a mercy of salvation.

Divine mercy does not stop the ship from hitting the iceberg. Divine mercy is the lifeboat that saves us once the ship begins to sink.

The pandemic we face is very real and it causes us to hide behind locked doors like the disciples. We don’t hide for fear of the Jews as the disciples did, but rather for fear of an invisible enemy. But is there really much difference? In both cases the ultimate fear is death, whether our own or that of someone we love.

But Jesus reaches out to us in this pandemic with his divine mercy to say, “Peace be with you.” He reaches out with hands that bear the nail marks of his crucifixion, and he grasps our hands and pulls us out of our fear. “Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”

And so the apparent irony of celebrating divine mercy amidst the realities of this pandemic is not so ironic after all. It presents a challenge to be sure, but it calls us to the very root of what it means to be a disciple of the Lord. Divine mercy does not shield us from the harsh realities of our life here on earth. Rather, it gives us the courage to know that our Savior loves us so much that he died for us despite our sins and shortcomings, and that in this we can find peace and comfort no matter what happens. His mercy is beyond anything we can understand, and it is far greater than anything the world can throw at us, including the coronavirus.

May the great mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ give us all the courage to say in our own lives, “My Lord and my God.”

For the sake of his sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.

Fr. A. Francis HGN