Between pollen hanging in the air and the whirlwind of our times, it’s been a tough week. While I’m not feeling the direct impact of any storm-force winds, I am worn out by sundown just the same. More and more, I rely on inward journey practices to ground me and ready me for whatever may come. I want to be a visible example of Christian love, both fierce and tender, both vulnerable to wounding and healed. I think of those around me now, and those who came before, who have stood firm in the face of menacing storms. I have a deeper appreciation for the inner strength and outer resolve that such times require.
Our gospel reading this week* opens with a tender glimpse into the humanity of Jesus’ first followers. They are afraid, hiding in the wake of his crucifixion, uncertain about what will happen to them. Jesus appears. He shows them his wounds – yes, it’s him. “Peace be with you,” he says, breathing into them union with God through the Holy Spirit. Fear softens into love.
Thomas came late and needed more. I would have too. Instead of scolding, Jesus meets Thomas exactly where he is and inviting him closer. In my own practices, I intentionally invite God to meet me in the same way. I want my fears to give way to love too.
“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” is a beatitude for all of Christ’s followers today. It calls us to trust in uncertainty, to believe that God’s love can transform even the most impossible of situations. God’s peace can withstand any hurricane that might come our way. What matters is resting on faith, surrendering to the deep certainty that God is here. No need to fear. Through us, God can breathe peace into the world.
