10 “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door but climbs in by another way, that man is a thief and a robber. ²  But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. ³  To him the gatekeeper opens. The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.⁴  When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. ⁵  A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.” ⁶  This figure of speech Jesus used with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.

⁷  So Jesus again said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep. ⁸  All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. ⁹  I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture. ¹⁰  The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

John 10.1–10 ESV – Bible Gateway

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In this week’s readings from the Lectionary, we have a common theme of shepherding in all the readings. The first reading from Acts echoes Peter’s role as shepherd of the Church. The rest of the readings elude or directly show Christ as our true Shepherd. During the Easter season, the First Reading is from Acts. Still, Jesus seems to refer to Ezekiel 34, which provides background to understanding God as the true shepherd, especially “I myself will pasture my sheep; I myself will give them rest—oracle of the Lord GOD (Ezekiel 34:15) and I will appoint one shepherd. (Ezekiel 34:23).

Dr. Peter Kreeft has a salutary reminder for us as we hear the “Good Shepherd Discourse”:

This parable is so familiar to us that it puts us into a doze, a comfortable semi-sleep. “That’s nice” is our usual response to the image of Jesus as the good shepherd. But Jesus never puts us to sleep; he always surprises us. He doesn’t pat us on the head and smile and coo and tell us how wise we are. He doesn’t waste time telling us things we already know. He tells us things that we don’t know and need to know, and therefore he always surprises us and challenges us.[1]

The Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture gives us an introduction to this reading.

The Good Shepherd Discourse divides into two sections (10:1–6, 7–18). In the first section, Jesus gives his teaching in “veiled speech” (10:6, our translation), using the imagery of sheep and shepherds, but he does not indicate what these images mean. After John specifies that Jesus’ hearers did not understand him (10:6), Jesus moves to the second section of the discourse (10:7–18), where he interprets the meaning of the shepherd, sheep, gate, and pasture given in the first section.[2]

Dr. Brant Pitre gives us some Jewish context to understand what John means by a “figure of speech.”

So the first thing I want to highlight here is that John refers to this teaching that Jesus is giving here as a paroimia. That is the Greek word; it means a figure of speech. It is very similar to what we see in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke, where Jesus will give _parabole_—in other words parables. Because in the parables, Jesus compares one thing to another. Usually he’s comparing something to the Kingdom of God. So he will say “the Kingdom of God is like X” or “the Kingdom of God is like Y” or “the Kingdom of God is like Z.” So in this case Jesus is doing the same thing here. He’s giving us a figure of speech that involves a comparison, but it is not called a parable—although you could maybe call it that…like the parable of the shepherd o the sheep or whatnot. So each of the images in this figure of speech—just like in the parables—is a comparison that is meant to have a particular meaning. So in order to understand it you have to understand what the images are.[3]

Understanding these images in both their symbolism and their reality can open this up more to us.

Steve Ray in his Commentary on this Gospel, opens up the historic reality:

“❲Jesus❳ compares his work to that of a good shepherd and the society he has founded to a sheepfold. The sheepfold in modern Palestine (and it was more or less the same twenty centuries ago) is nothing more than an enclosure within a little low wall of stone where the sheep of one or more flocks pasturing in the vicinity are gathered in the evening. The animals go in and out one by one through a low, narrow door in the wall which makes it easy to count them both times. At night one shepherd stands guard alone to protect the fold against thieves and wild beasts; and toward dawn, it is he who opens the little door to the shepherds coming to claim their flocks. Each shepherd gives his own particular call and his sheep come crowding to the door and trot out one by one to follow him all day long over the heath. The other sheep wait until they hear the special cry of their own shepherd; only his voice, which is to guide them throughout the day, brings them to the entrance. Thus, flock by flock, the sheep go out by the little gate in obedience to the cries of the shepherds, who sometimes even call their favorite sheep by name: ‘Hey! Whitie!’ ‘Come on, Beautiful!’ That little door, then, is the mainspring of the fold and it alone inspires confidence. Whoever does not pass through it but climbs over the wall proclaims himself an enemy—a thief or a wild beast.”[4]

He also points out what is more than just metaphor here regarding shepherds living in this area:

“The relationship between sheep and shepherd is quite different in Palestine. In Britain the sheep are largely kept for killing, but in Palestine largely for their wool. It thus happens that in Palestine the sheep are often with the shepherd for years and often they have names by which the shepherd calls them.… It is strictly true that the sheep know and understand the eastern shepherd’s voice; and that they will never answer to the voice of a stranger.… ‘The shepherd calls sharply from time to time, to remind them of his presence. They know his voice, and follow on; but, if a stranger call, they stop short, lift up their heads in alarm, and if it is repeated, they turn and flee, because they know not the voice of a stranger. I have made the experiment repeatedly’.… Every detail of the shepherd’s life lights up the picture of the Good Shepherd whose sheep hear his voice and whose constant care is for his flock.”[5]

There is much to reflect on here. In my meditation on this, I was thinking about the aspect of what it means to hear his voice. This is obviously not just the act of hearing what he says, but in the hearing, discerning, and acting on his words. There are so many competing voices in the world and Jesus’ voice is lost in the clutter. Even when we think we are acting on his voice, we need a daily examination of our life to see if this is indeed true. Especially considering how often we deceive ourselves by justifying sin. I know in my experience, the voice I hear from Jesus can just be me acting as a ventriloquist spouting his words, which really are my own, where I have filtered out the uncomfortable things he said.

The comparison to us as sheep is unflattering, but accurate. I can too easily relate to my stupidity and wandering off. Along with intentional stupidity, where I reinterpret Jesus’ voice to match what I want instead. His original audience for this discourse probably had a range of people who either did not understand his figure of speech or willfully did not want to understand as it applied to them.

We hear Jesus’ voice via the Gospels and the Magisterium. There are many ways for us to hear his voice indirectly, such as in the lives of the saints where they imaged Jesus.

Brant Pitre brings out another example:

If you think about John 10 and Jesus as the true shepherd, then the priest, who is striving to be an image of Christ the Shepherd, should not only smell like the sheep, he should also sound like the shepherd. Because what does the shepherd do? He calls the sheep by name and they hear his voice and they recognize his voice. So when the priest not only lives with his people and ministers to them, but also calls to his people, he wants to have the voice of Christ. He needs to use the words of Christ, the words of the Gospel, the teaching of the Church, so that he can develop and cultivate the voice of Christ so that when people hear his voice, they will hear Christ speaking to them as the true shepherd of the sheep, as the good Shepherd who ministers to them and who leads us all to the green pastures of eternal life.[6]

In paragraph 6 of Lumen Gentium, we find that:

The Church is a sheepfold whose one and indispensable door is Christ. It is a flock of which God Himself foretold He would be the shepherd, and whose sheep, although ruled by human shepherds; are nevertheless continuously led and nourished by Christ Himself, the Good Shepherd and the Prince of the shepherds, who gave His life for the sheep.[7]

From the Catechism, Paragraph 754:

“The Church is, accordingly, a sheepfold, the sole and necessary gateway to which is Christ. It is also the flock of which God himself foretold that he would be the shepherd, and whose sheep, even though governed by human shepherds, are unfailingly nourished and led by Christ himself, the Good Shepherd and Prince of Shepherds, who gave his life for his sheep.[8]

There is also a good detail of historical background regarding John 10:8, that Dr. John Bergsma summarizes:

When Our Lord declares “all who came before me are thieves and robbers,” he may well be referring to the majority of those who had claimed leadership over Israel since the deposition of the last reigning son of David, Zedekiah, in 587 BC (see 2 Kgs 25:7). Many of these leaders had questionable if not outright illegitimate pedigrees. The Levite clan of the Maccabees had taken over in the mid–100s and set themselves up as kings of Israel although they were not of the line of David. Herod the Great, who was only half-Jewish, took over Israel by political manipulation of the Roman authorities and established a dynasty that had even less legitimacy than the Maccabees. Meanwhile, the high priesthood had been corrupted at least since 175 BC, when the high priest Onias III was ousted by political maneuvering and replaced first by his brother, Jason, and then by Menelaus, a Benjaminite (2 Macc 3–4).

…

But as well-meaning as the Pharisees were, they did not have any biblical claim to authority. No prophets had ever promised that self-appointed scholars of the law would arise to save Israel in the last days. All these false leaders, intent too often on enriching themselves at the expense of the people of Israel, may be whom Jesus has in mind as the “thieves and robbers” who have come before him.[9]

The Gospels often reinforce the idea that Jesus is calling us to union with him. That this is a relationship where he calls us as sons and daughters (Divine affiliation). A point Peter Kreeft brings out:

The second surprising thing in Jesus’ parable is that he says that the shepherd calls each of the sheep by name. We name our pets, but we don’t name our sheep. But Jesus knows each of us by name. We have unique names because we are unique selves. We are not just clones or Xerox copies. There is one thing that only you can do. Nobody else who ever lived or ever will live can do it. And that is to be you. When you die, no one can ever, ever replace you. And Jesus knows that and loves that unique self that is you. In fact, if you had been the only person in the world who had ever sinned and needed salvation, Jesus would have done everything that he did just for you, including the Incarnation and the cross.[10]

St. John Henry Newman brings this aspect out in his wonderful meditation on “Meditations on Christian Doctrine.” The following is only a sample from this:

God was all-complete, all-blessed in Himself; but it was His will to create a world for His glory. He is Almighty, and might have done all things Himself, but it has been His will to bring about His purposes by the beings He has created. We are all created to His glory—we are created to do His will. I am created to do something or to be something for which no one else is created; I have a place in God’s counsels, in God’s world, which no one else has; whether I be rich or poor, despised or esteemed by man, God knows me and calls me by my name.[11]

Jesus calls us to have an abundant life with him. How often to we think that in following Jesus we are being deprived of something we should have? That rejecting the things of the world and embracing the cross isn’t really fair. Maybe thinking that threefold temptations of “‘The Concupiscence of the flesh’, ‘The Concupiscence of the eyes’; and ‘The Pride of Life’” is really not that bad.

Jesus comes not to “steal and slaughter and destroy,” but that they “might have life and have it more abundantly.” Another translation could be “I have come that they may have life, and have it excessively” (John 10:10, my translation). This statement taps into a theme in the Gospel of John, that of the abundance that Jesus comes to provide. This theme is announced in the first chapter of the Gospel, where it says of Jesus, “From his abundance we have all received, grace upon grace” (John 1:16, my translation). It is visibly demonstrated in the abundance of wine at Cana (John 2) and the excessive supply of bread and fish on the mountain (John 6). Jesus has come that his sheep may abound in life, experiencing a fullness unlike anything else.

Our imaginations are so limited in seeing the abundant life and just how overflowing the graces we receive are.

Sources

• Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A
• The Gospel of John (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture)
• Catholic Productions, Commentaries by Brant Pitre
• St. John’s Gospel: A Bible Study Guide and Commentary for Individuals and Groups: Ray, Stephen K.
• The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A – John Bergsma
• Newman Reader – Meditations and Devotions – Part 3
• Lumen gentium
• Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd Edition
• Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

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1. Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A, Fourth Sunday of Easter  ↩
2. Francis Martin, William M. Wright IV, The Gospel of John (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture)  ↩
3. Catholic Productions, Brant Pitre, Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year A  ↩
4. St. John’s Gospel: A Bible Study Guide and Commentary for Individuals and Groups. Steve Ray, 2002  ↩
5. ibid  ↩
6. Catholic Productions, Brant Pitre, Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year A  ↩
7. Lumen gentium, the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, “Light of the Nations”, Second Vatican Council, 21 November 1964  ↩
8. Catholic Church. (2000). Catechism of the Catholic Church (2nd Ed). United States Catholic Conference, Paragraph 754.  ↩
9. The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A, John Bergsma, Fourth Sunday of Easter  ↩
10. Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A, Fourth Sunday of Easter  ↩
11. This is only the second paragraph of this meditation for March 7, 1848.  ↩

Luke 24.13–35 ESV – On the Road to Emmaus – Bible Gateway

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In the Gospel of Mark, the story of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus is limited to just Mark 16:12–13:

¹² After these things he appeared in another form to two of them, as they were walking into the country. ¹³ And they went back and told the rest, but they did not believe them.

In Mark, neither disciple is named or their destination. We can be thankful for the extensive treatment Luke gives this beautiful story. This occurs later on the same day as the Resurrection. There are disputes on the location of Emmaus and just how far it was from Jerusalem. But these same disciples could apparently return to Jerusalem to meet with the Apostles on the same night.

¹⁶ But their eyes were kept from recognizing him.

Jimmy Akin comments on this in a post on The Post-Resurrection Appearances of Jesus.

In the case of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13–32), it was because they were deliberately stopped from recognizing him. The text explicitly tells us that “their eyes were kept from recognizing him” (Luke 24:19). In order to teach them a lesson and make a big impact with it, Jesus stopped them from recognizing him so that he could do what a cinematographer would call a “dramatic reveal.” (There is also a likely element of playfulness here.)

He also mentions that “Philosophers call the kind of situation where you look at something but don’t notice or recognize it “non-cognitive seeing.”” Jimmy also goes into the parallels with other Gospel instances where people close to him failed to recognize him after the Resurrection.

They interacted with Jesus where “they consider themselves to be more knowledgeable than this visitor, who seems ignorant of the things that have taken place.”[1] and later “Now there is a role reversal regarding who is knowledgeable and who is ignorant, as it is the stranger’s turn to give an explanation. Regarding faith, he upbraids them for being slow of heart to believe Scripture. If they truly believed all that the prophets spoke, then they would have believed what the women spoke.”[2]

I found what Brant Pitre says on this is instructive:

Number one, notice he does upbraid them. He does rebuke them and he says “you foolish men, slow of heart to believe all the prophets have spoken.” Now I remember years ago when I was doing a video on this—like a lecture—on the road to Emmaus, I made a mistake. I said that Jesus upbraided them for not knowing the Scriptures. And somebody came up to me after the talk and said “Dr. Pitre, I don’t mean to be rude but I think you made a mistake. Jesus does not upbraid them for not knowing the Scriptures, he upbraids them for not believing the Scriptures.” And that’s true. That’s exactly what he said. They, as Jews, they would’ve known the prophets. The problem is they don’t believe. They are lacking faith.[3]

This got me to thinking about knowledge and living out the faith. If I pile up knowledge upon knowledge and don’t live out the faith, it is only an abstract game. I constantly need this reminder to let whatever knowledge I might have to strengthen and live out my faith. Looking at the world and the actions of members of the Church, it is easy to get dejected, forgetting that Jesus warned us of the cross to come and that faith often would not be comfy, but lived out in trust.

Peter Kreeft, in his commentary, writes:

And when Jesus interpreted all the passages in the Scriptures that referred to him, everything suddenly lit up for the two disciples and made sense, even the shocking prophecies that the Messiah would have to suffer. How did Jesus light up the Scriptures? What was Jesus’ method? We should imitate it. It really worked, for the text tells us that afterward, the two disciples said, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?” Jesus spoke to the heart, not just to the head. He was not a scholarly professor; he was a lover interpreting a love letter. And the disciples got it because their hearts were seeking it, their hearts were right, their hearts were in love with the right thing, the thing the Messiah was designed to bring them: salvation from sin; sanctity, charity, love. Jesus’ explanation worked because it was heart to heart, not just head to head. And “heart” here means something much deeper than feeling or emotion. It was wisdom, intuition, spiritual intelligence, understanding, seeing deeply because you love deeply that which is most deeply worth loving.[4]

I have heard many lament that fact that we don’t know exactly what the passages Jesus referred to in the Old Testament were. Or how much they would have loved to hear Jesus’ exposition. I can join them in this desire, but I also think about the fact that how Jesus taught this is also very instructive. He was not just stringing a bunch of verses together to make his point.

Returning to Dr. Pitre:

Now why is that so important? Well for me personally, one of the reasons this is important is because it gives me the model of how to do biblical studies, of how to to teach about the Scriptures, to teach the word of God; which is this, always go back to the Old Testament. Always go back to the beginning. Always start with Genesis and walk through the Scriptures looking for the signs and the shadows that point forward to what God is going to do in Jesus Christ. In other words, Jesus’ method of interpreting the Scripture is you start with the Old Testament and you interpret it (what’s called) typologically. Typology means the study of Old Testament prefigurations (events, realities, signs and things) that point forward to and are fulfilled in the New Testament, in the new covenant of Jesus—in his life, his, death and his resurrection.[5]

It is also instructive that have this exegesis from Jesus, their eyes were not yet opened to seeing him. What happens next draws many parallels between events in Jesus’ ministry up to that point and to the future of the Church.

Dr. John Bergsma points out:

The disciples press Jesus to stay with them for the night, and at the evening meal, he “takes, blesses, breaks, and gives” the bread to those present. Luke employs this same sequence of four verbs in his account of the Feeding of the Five Thousand and at the Institution of the Eucharist; it became almost a technical phrase for Eucharistic celebration in the early Church. This helps us to understand the significance of their “recognition” of him and his sudden vanishing from their sight. This is meant as Eucharistic instruction for us: we should “recognize” Jesus in the broken bread and no longer seek for an apparition of him because he is truly present with us in the Eucharistic host.[6]

I remember that early in the days when I had shed my atheism and was searching for the church and not understanding what church I was searching for; I came across the story of the Emmaus road. When Jesus vanishes from their sight, this really hit me with the Eucharistic overtones. I did not know what the various understandings involving the Eucharist were in the various churches. I only knew that this was really important. This was something fundamental to what I was searching for. This was such an epiphany to me it burned the time and place in me. So it is not surprising that later it was the Eucharist I believed in, and the Catholic understanding of it, that was decisive for me.

Dr. Bergsma also writes:

To this day, Emmaus Road presents us with the ideal form of Mass.[7]

I also came across this in the Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture on Luke:

This meal at Emmaus is the first meal of the new creation.”[8]

That commentary also pointed out this paragraph from Pope Benedict’s XVI Verbum Domini: Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation on the Word of God in the Life and Mission of the Church (30 September 2010)

Luke’s account of the disciples on the way to Emmaus enables us to reflect further on this link between the hearing of the word and the breaking of the bread… . The presence of Jesus, first with his words and then with the act of breaking bread, made it possible for the disciples to recognize him… . From these accounts it is clear that Scripture itself points us towards an appreciation of its own unbreakable bond with the Eucharist… . Word and Eucharist are so deeply bound together that we cannot understand one without the other: the word of God sacramentally takes flesh in the event of the Eucharist. The Eucharist opens us to an understanding of Scripture, just as Scripture for its part illumines and explains the mystery of the Eucharist.[9]

Pulling from the Catechism:

1346 The liturgy of the Eucharist unfolds according to a fundamental structure which has been preserved throughout the centuries down to our own day. It displays two great parts that form a fundamental unity: (CCC 103)

• the gathering, the liturgy of the Word, with readings, homily, and general intercessions;
• the liturgy of the Eucharist, with the presentation of the bread and wine, the consecratory thanksgiving, and communion

The liturgy of the Word and liturgy of the Eucharist together form “one single act of worship”; the Eucharistic table set for us is the table both of the Word of God and of the Body of the Lord.[10]

One last point, when I read in verse 24:16 that their eyes were opened, I wondered if this was an allusion to Genesis:

Whereas previously “their eyes were prevented from recognizing him” (24:16), now their eyes were opened. This exact expression (of three consecutive words in Greek) occurs elsewhere in Scripture only in the account of the fall in Genesis, which similarly occurs during a meal involving taking and giving and results in the recognition of a hidden reality: “The eyes of the two were opened, and they knew …” (Gen 3:7 NETS).[11]

References

• The Gospel of Luke, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture, Rev. Pablo T. Gadenz
• Catholic Productions, Commentaries by Brant Pitre
• Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A
• The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A – John Bergsma
• Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd Edition
• Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

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1. The Gospel of Luke, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture, Rev. Pablo T. Gadenz  ↩
2. ibid  ↩
3. Catholic Productions, Brant Pitre, Third Sunday in Easter, Year A  ↩
4. Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A, , Third Sunday in Easter  ↩
5. Catholic Productions, Brant Pitre, Third Sunday in Easter, Year A  ↩
6. The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A, John Bergsma, Third Sunday in Easter  ↩
7. ibid  ↩
8. Arthur A. Just Jr., The Ongoing Feast: Table Fellowship and Eschatology at Emmaus (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1993)  ↩
9. Benedict XVI, Verbum Domini 54–55.  ↩
10. Catholic Church. (2000). Catechism of the Catholic Church (2nd Ed). United States Catholic Conference.  ↩
11. The Gospel of Luke, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture, Rev. Pablo T. Gadenz  ↩

John 20:19–31 ESV – Bible Gateway

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This Gospel passage is used on the Second Sunday of Easter for each liturgical year. The use of these verses goes back to before the liturgical reform of the lectionary and is the same reading still used for the Tridentine Rite of the Church. The reason being is that it details also the second appearance of Jesus to the Apostles “eight days later” and so is perfectly fitting for the Second Sunday of Easter.

Confession is very much the Sacrament of Divine Mercy. So it’s fitting that on this day we will both recall the appearance to Thomas that took place eight days after the resurrection and the institution of Confession which is the Sacrament of Divine Mercy. [1]

The Apostles gathered together are basically hunkering down for the duration. Gathered together in a locked room. “Proper residences were equipped with bolts and locks. Bolted doors would prevent anyone from entering (a heavy bolt could be slid through rings attached to the door and its frame).”[2] They are in fear, in fact, fear for their lives. As John writes “For fear of the Jews, they were hiding out.” They would have been afraid of any knock on the door. Jesus mysteriously comes and stands among them. Such an awkward moment as they both fear and rejoice at seeing Jesus again.

John Bergsma comments on this:[3]

The last time he saw this band of eleven men, he was looking at their backs, in the dark, as they all ran away from him rather than accompany him through his suffering and death (Matt 26:56). But Jesus does not mention this. He does not say, “Hey guys! Guess you didn’t think you’d see me again! Thanks for sticking by me there, in my hour of need.” Instead, he overlooks their dismal infidelity, and the word of Jesus is simply, “Peace be with you.”

Jesus would say “Peace be with you.” twice in this first encounter and again during the second one. They really need to let their fear go and for the peace of Christ to settle on them. Jesus is completing the commission he started at the Last Supper when he breaths on them and gives them the ability to forgive and retain sins.

When Jesus does this it recalls the book of Genesis when it says that “God breathed into the clay,” “breathed into the nostrils of Adam and he became a living being.” So what Jesus is doing here is, in a sense, inaugurating once again the new creation. But in this case the power that is being revealed through that action is not the Sacrament of Baptism as with the man born blind, but here it is the power to forgive and retain sin that will be passed down in the Church through the Sacrament of Reconciliation, through the Sacrament of Confession.[4]

The Council of Trent says:

“The Church has always understood—and has in fact defined—that Jesus Christ here conferred on the Apostles authority to forgive sins, a power which is exercised in the sacrament of Penance. ‘The Lord then especially instituted the sacrament of Penance when, after being risen from the dead, he breathed upon his disciples and said: “Receive the Holy Spirit.…” The consensus of all the Fathers has always acknowledged that by this action so sublime and words so clear the power of forgiving and retaining sins was given to the Apostles and their lawful successors for reconciling the faithful who have fallen after Baptism’ (Council of Trent, De Paenitentia, chap. 1).

Now we come to the Apostle Thomas who is now with the other Apostles on this second encounter with the risen Christ. We don’t know why he was not there the first time. Yet it is to our edification that he wasn’t.

St. Gregory the Great[5]

It was not an accident that that particular disciple was not present. The divine mercy ordained that a doubting disciple should, by feeling in his Master the wounds of the flesh, heal in us the wounds of unbelief. The unbelief of Thomas is more profitable to our faith than the belief of the other disciples. For the touch by which he is brought to believe confirms our minds in belief, beyond all question

When he joins up with them he is told the story about how Jesus came upon them although the doors were locked. There is one distinct difference between how the other Apostles acted and how Thomas acted. When Mary Magdalene informed the Apostles, Peter and John ran to the tomb. Based on witness testimony they were willing to believe that this might be true and dashed off to verify it. Thomas on the other hand heard testimony from his friends and did not believe them. He not only discounted his friends but was not even willing to see how this was consistent with what Jesus told them ahead of time. He demands empirical proof, but when Jesus offers him that very proof—he no longer demands or needs it.

New Testament scholar John Barclay writes:

“There was no halfway house about Thomas. He was not airing his doubts just for the sake of mental acrobatics; he doubted in order to become sure; and when he did, his surrender to certainty was complete. And when a man fights his way through his doubts to the conviction that Jesus Christ is Lord, he has attained to a certainty that the man who unthinkingly accepts things can never reach.”

One consideration from Brant Pitre, regarding what Jesus asks Thomas:

Since ancient Greek manuscripts do not use punctuation marks, it is not clear whether Jesus’ words to Thomas in 20:29a are a question or a statement. The NABRE translates it as a question, Have you come to believe because you have seen me?, which hints at disapproval that Thomas needed tangible proof to believe. However, it is also possible to translate it as a statement, “You have believed because you have seen me,” in which case Jesus does not disapprove of Thomas’s faith but simply declares that Thomas has arrived at full Easter faith because of the tangible proof that has been given him.

The Catechism [6] in paragraph 156 says:

156 What moves us to believe is not the fact that revealed truths appear as true and intelligible in the light of our natural reason: we believe “because of the authority of God himself who reveals them, who can neither deceive nor be deceived.”[1] So “that the submission of our faith might nevertheless be in accordance with reason, God willed that external proofs of his Revelation should be joined to the internal helps of the Holy Spirit.”[2] Thus the miracles of Christ and the saints, prophecies, the Church’s growth and holiness, and her fruitfulness and stability “are the most certain signs of divine Revelation, adapted to the intelligence of all”; they are “motives of credibility” (motiva credibilitatis), which show that the assent of faith is “by no means a blind impulse of the mind.

• Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

My References