Saint Thomas: "My Lord and my God"
From a sermon by Ronald A. Knox
(Pastoral Sermons, pages 402-403)
Night Office, on this Feast of Saint Thomas, the Reading from Fr. Ronald Knox, was used in the Second Nocturn. Fr. H., the Reader, made this choice from the alternatives from the Lectern. It was well heard, and gave us Fr. Ronald's touch of presence, as in the cases of Thomas encounters with Jesus.
Thomas, as we know from his record, was loyal to a fault; had been the first to suggest that they should all go and die with their Master. But he was one of those people who will always ask the inconvenient question. He has been chosen to be an eyewitness, vouching personally for every event in the life of Jesus of Nazareth. And he was not an eyewitness of this appearance in the upper room; it will not do. How can they be certain it was really their Master they saw? What tests did they make? Until I have seen the mark of the nails on his hands, until I have put my finger into the mark of the nails, and put my hand into his side, you will never make me believe.
That it was all providentially ordained, one apostle being absent, and that one Thomas, with his bulldog way of looking at things, is beyond question. "Our faith," says Saint Gregory, "owes more to the faithlessness of Thomas than to the faith-fullness of all the other apostles put together." Because Thomas doubted, our Lord appeared a second time in the upper room; because Thomas doubted, they were privileged to see, and to touch if they would, the indelible scars of Calvary. What our own eyes have seen of him, what it was that met our gaze, and the touch of our hands - so John wrote, long afterwards, with that unforgettable scene for his inspiration. In a moment, the verdict of the jury became unanimous; Thomas could cry out: My Lord and my God! with the rest. Only, there is a postscript. You have learned to believe, Thomas, because you have seen me.Blessed are those who have not seen, and believe all the same.
For our sakes, it was a good thing that Thomas doubted. But for himself, he had come short of the ideal, he had missed an opportunity; surely we are meant to see that. In however insignificant a degree, he was at fault. He had all the record of our Lord's life and teaching in front of him; he had the unanimous testimony of those others, his tried companions in arms, and yet ... some pride, some wilful obstinacy, some chagrin, perhaps, at having been left out when this experience was granted to the rest, made him withhold his assent. "I will not believe"; mysteriously, it is possible to withhold your assent by an act of the will. He ought to have capitulated.
Our Lord doesn't complain. Our Lord wasn't like us; he didn't go about after his resurrection finding fault and saying "I told you so"; he looked forward to the future. He looked down the centuries at people like you and me, who had no chance of seeing him in his incarnate state, and yet do manage to cry out, My Lord and my God; and he said, "What lucky people you are!" When he started out on his ministry, you remember, he gave us the eight beatitudes, Blessed are the patient, blessed are the merciful, blessed are the peacemakers, and so on. And now, when he is just going to leave us for heaven, he pronounces a last beatitude, Blessed are those who haven't seen, and believe all the same.
Our Lord, as we know, was fond of paradox; and this congratulation of his does seem rather unexpected. Earlier on, he said to his apostles, There have been many prophets and just men who have longed to see what you see, and never saw it; we understand well enough what he means by saying, Blessed are your eyes in that connection. To see our Lord in the flesh, to hear his gracious accents, to feel the touch of his hand - what an opportunity it was that they had, and we have missed! But that is not his last word on the subject. He singles out people like you and me for a special congratulation; because we have not seen? No, because, not having seen, we believe.
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