Homily, 19 April 2009

The Second Sunday of Easter (B)
Divine Mercy Sunday

“Jesus came, although the doors were locked, and stood in their midst and said, ‘Peace be with you’” (John 20:26).

My brothers and sisters, how often do we find ourselves behind locked doors? How often do we lock the mental, emotional or spiritual doors of our lives? The doors of the Upper Room symbolically represent these doors to our minds and hearts.

Far too often do we close these doors, both to others and to God. Those early witnesses of the Risen Lord had locked the doors for fear for their lives; we lock the doors for fear of rejection and change.

Many times we are afraid to open the doors of our lives to others, hence we neither let them enter our lives nor enter into theirs, all for fear of rejection. In this way, we become all the more isolated and less at peace.

At the same time, we are afraid to open the doors of our lives to God because we know that he will require a change in our lives as he calls us to an ever deeper and more profound conversion. Hence, we never receive the peace that he came to give us. In this way,

we continually close our doors; we continually want to feel secure and do not want to be disturbed by others and by God. And so, we can continually implore the Lord just for this, that he come to us, overcoming our closure, to bring to us his greeting: “Peace be with you.”[1]

The Lord said to the Apostles, “Peace be with you,” three separate times in this passage of the Gospel alone, highlighting his desire to impart this gift to us (John 20:19, 21 and 26). Is this not the gift for which our hearts long so intently, peace with our neighbor, peace within our soul, and peace with God? It is this gift – this three-fold peace – which the Lord Jesus wishes us to have.

It was this gift that Thomas, too, desired. For this reason, the Lord said to him, as he extended his hands toward him with his grace and mercy, “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” (John 20:27).

It was an invitation for Thomas to open wide the door of his heart and mind to Christ. It was an invitation for Thomas to plunge himself into the sacred wounds of Christ, to immerse himself in Divine Mercy, which we celebrate in a particular way today.

The Lord continually shows his five holy wounds to us, as well, and invites us, with Thomas, to plunge ourselves into his great love.

In order to extend the outward signs of his love for us, Jesus “stands in the midst of every heart. He stands in the midst, so that from him as from a centre, all the lines of grace might radiate to us who are at the circumference, surrounding and moving around him.”[2]

It is the Lord himself who stands in our midst, in the center of our minds and hearts. If we quiet ourselves and are still, we, too, will hear him say to us, “Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and it put into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.”

If we center our thoughts and hearts on him – as if he were the axle of all that we are and do – then we will know the depths of his Divine Mercy, and we will be at peace.

Stand, then, in the midst, and you will have peace with your neighbor [and with God]. If you do not stand in the midst you cannot have peace. There is no peace or tranquility on the circumference, only movement and noise.”[3]

It is only at the center of the wheel that there is stillness and peace. We will only know true and lasting peace when our lives revolve not around me and what I want, but around Christ and what he wants of - and for - me.

The Lord Jesus not only invites us to touch his wounds, to see and believe, but to explore the depths of these wounds that we might enter into them and abide in them. For by exploring the wounds of the Savior we find our own wounds and sufferings and are able then to unite them to his. By doing so, our own sufferings, our own wounds, receive purpose and beauty and become for us a source of peace in the same way that the five holy wounds radiate peace to us.

If we are to explore his wounds in such a manner, then we must follow the wisdom of Saint Faustina Kowalska, who said, “Jesus, I trust in you.” The more we say, “Jesus, I trust in you,” the wider we open the doors of our heart and mind.

We must not be afraid to open these doors to him, for as the Psalmist sings, “My strength and my courage is the Lord, and he has been my savior” (Psalm 118:14). By opening the doors to him we will come to know that “this is the day the Lord has made” and we will “be glad and rejoice in it” (Psalm 118:24).

Today marks the fourth anniversary of the election of Pope Benedict XVI as the Bishop of Rome and Pastor of the Universal Church. In his inaugural homily, he asked:

Are we not perhaps all afraid in some way? If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves totally to him, are we not afraid that He might take something away from us? Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant, something unique, something that makes life so beautiful? Do we not then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom? …If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great. No! Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide. Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed. Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation. And so, today, with great strength and great conviction, on the basis of long personal experience of life, I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ – and you will find true life.[4]

Let us fling wide the doors of our lives to Christ in loving and confident trust, that we might cry out with Thomas, “My Lord and my God” (John 20:28).

[1] Pope Benedict XVI, Homily, 15 May 2005.
[2] Saint Anthony of Padua, Homily for the First Sunday after Easter, 6. In Sermons for Sundays and Festivals, Vol. I: General Prologue, Sundays from Septuagesima to Pentecost, Pauls Spilsbury, trans. (Padua, Italy: Messaggero di Sant’ Antonio, 2007), 259.
[3] Ibid., 7. In Sermons for Sundays and Festivals, 260.
[4] Pope Benedict XVI, Homily, April 2005.