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| photo by Dewitt Jones |
The accounts of the appearances of the Risen Christ that we
find in the Gospels are varied, but there is a shared concern that runs through
all of them. They all indicate both
continuity and discontinuity between the body of Jesus before his crucifixion and
the risen body of Jesus. It is the same
body, but different. It has undergone a
transformation.
This is communicated in a number of ways. The Risen Christ bears the scars of his
torture, yet his disciples have difficulty recognizing him. He eats and drinks with them in quite
ordinary ways, but his appearing and disappearing do not seem to conform to the
physical laws governing the movement of normal bodies in time and space. These various accounts testify that whatever
else it may be, the Resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead is not an
immaterial apparition or the resuscitation of a corpse. We are not dealing with a ghost or a zombie. Jesus continues to be present to his
disciples in a new way, but in a way that is continuous with his embodied
existence.
John’s Gospel, which was the last of the four Gospels to be
written, is concerned to be clear about the resurrection of the body in
response to those who said that Jesus wasn’t really human and didn’t really
die. John wishes to counter Gnostic
teachers who viewed Jesus as a divine being, who only appeared to die, and for
whom salvation is about escaping from the body.
John, in keeping with Orthodox Christianity and in spite of his high
Christology, affirms the paradox that Jesus is both human and divine. Salvation is not about escaping from life in the body, but rather
transforming life in the body.
There is a pastoral concern in John’s resurrection accounts
as well, particularly in today’s reading, which prominently features the
apostle Thomas. Written sometime between
90 and 110 CE, some 60 to 80 years after Jesus’ ministry, John’s Gospel appears
at a time when the first generation of disciples is dying, including the
apostles who witnessed the resurrection.
This raised the question: is the
faith of those who did not actually see the risen Christ as valid as those who
did? John wishes to assure us that faith
based on the testimony of the apostolic witnesses is as valid, perhaps even
greater, than the faith of those witnesses themselves: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet
have come to believe” (John 20:29).
We see a similar concern in I Peter, another late New
Testament writing. “Although you have
not known him, you love him; and though you do not see him now, you believe in
him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for you are receiving
the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls” (I Peter 1:8-9). In loving Jesus we become like the object of
our love, thus sharing in his life and joy.
We are transformed by entrusting ourselves to the mystery that we cannot
comprehend. “Believing is seeing,”
rather than “seeing is believing.”
The problem with Thomas is not that he doubts the
Resurrection per se. Remember, Thomas was present when Jesus
raised Lazarus from the dead. The
problem is that he doubts the testimony of the other disciples and so is not
open to entrusting himself to Jesus again.
Thomas was certain that their final journey to Jerusalem would end with
Jesus’ death; when Jesus announces that he is going there, Thomas tells the
other disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (John 11:16).
Thomas was fixed on what was wrong with the situation. He could not see any other possibilities
beyond the finality of death and defeat.
Perhaps, too, he was fixed on his own guilt at having failed to have the
courage to die with Jesus as he had so boldly professed before the
crucifixion. When push came to shove,
Thomas failed to keep trust with Jesus.
In his grief and guilt and utter failure, it may just have been asking
too much for Thomas to trust again.
And yet despite his doubt, there was something about the
other apostles that kept Thomas connected to them because we find him gathered
with them a week later. The other
apostles are willing to share the space of shame with Thomas, inviting him to
join them as they reconstitute themselves as a community struggling to accept
forgiveness and the possibility of new life.
It as he is inducted into this forgiven and forgiving community, that
Thomas, too, comes to see Jesus; or, rather, Jesus reveals himself to
Thomas. Just this bare willingness to
entrust himself to the care of his brothers is enough to bring Thomas into an
encounter with the abyss of divine love overflowing in the new life present in
the risen Christ.
As Archbishop Rowan Williams has noted “There is no hope of understanding the
Resurrection outside the process of renewing humanity in forgiveness. We are
all agreed that the empty tomb proves nothing. We need to add that no amount of
apparitions, however well authenticated, would mean anything either, apart from
the testimony of forgiven lives communicating forgiveness” (Williams, Resurrection: Interpreting the Easter Gospel,
p. 109).
The Risen Christ is
present in the community of those who are renewing humanity – indeed the whole
creation – through lives that communicate the healing love of God. We may not know Jesus or see him as the
apostles did, but we can be swept up into the vision of God’s kingdom that he
released into the world. As Peter said,
we can love Jesus and so come to trust the power of his vision and share the
joy that it inspires. That trust can
lead to healing.
Not everyone is a
St. Peter or a St. Teresa of Avila, who seemed to have an intimate conversation
with Jesus before she finished breakfast every morning. But all of us can attend to the testimony of
the apostolic witnesses and test the authenticity of the reconciliation
practiced in communities of people who gather in Jesus’ name. We can become sharers in that witness and life
giving practice, and so make Jesus’ vision real in the world. We can become his risen Body together. If we believe, we can see Jesus risen in our
collective life of love and forgiveness.
Dewitt Jones has
helped me to understand better this relationship between vision, perception,
and reality.[1] For twenty years, Dewitt was a photographer
for National Geographic, an
experience that forever shaped his life.
Even as a boy, long before he ever dreamed of taking pictures for it,
the magazine’s vision of the world enchanted him.
That vision was
simple but powerful. Whenever Dewitt was
sent out on an assignment, he was given the charge to celebrate what is right
with the world. He learned to trust that
in every place, there was natural beauty and human goodness to be discovered. He learned that if he believed it, he would
see it. Wherever he went, he believed
there would be a beautiful landscape.
And it was there. He believed
that there would be wonderful people.
And they were there. He focused
on what there was to celebrate, and there was much and more. It was revealed to him through his camera,
and you have only to see his photographs to believe his testimony.
The Geographic’s
vision shaped his perception, and his perception was drawn to dimensions of
reality he would otherwise have missed. This
vision unleashed a depth of passion and creativity he didn’t know he had, and
it revealed to his perception a world of transcendent beauty, of which humanity
is an integral part. The more he
celebrated this beauty, the more this vision conflicted with the dominant
paradigm of reality that is shaped by a fearful perception of scarcity and
competition. That is not what nature was
showing Dewitt. When he approached a virgin
forest, it didn’t communicate to him, “There is only one good picture here and
only one photographer will be able to get it.”
No, the forest said, “How many rolls have you got.”
With a little
patience and perseverance, Dewitt always found a perspective that transformed
the ordinary into the extraordinary. If
we believe it, we will see it. And when
we celebrate what is right with the world, when we fall in love with it, the
energy we need to fix what is wrong with the world is liberated. Dewitt quotes Michelangelo, “I saw an angel
in the stone and carved to set it free.”
For Jesus, it was
the vision of the kingdom of God that shaped his perception of reality. It was a vision of God as creative, generous,
and forgiving. It was a vision of human
relationships in which holiness, rather than impurity, is contagious, in which
healing and reconciliation are available to everyone. It was a vision of a world in which there is
more than enough food, water, clothing, joy, and love. Jesus celebrated what is right in the world –
the kingdom of God has come near you – and liberated the energy to heal what
was broken in the world. His vision
shaped his perception. Thomas could see
only death. Jesus saw resurrection, and
the reality of love’s triumph over sin and death was revealed through him. Those who believe it, see it to this day.
The appearances of
the Risen Christ are not a deus ex
machina, a divine contrivance to set everything right in the end. They are a commissioning to share the vision
of the kingdom of God. “Jesus said to
them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the
Father has sent me, so I send you.’ When
he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy
Spirit. If you release the sins of any,
they are released; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained” (John
20:21-23).
The Holy Spirit is
the Paraclete, the advocate or
defender of victims, the energy to fix what is wrong in the world. Sin in this context has not yet acquired the
moralizing overlay we have come to know; in its root meaning it is more like “brokenness.” Our commission is to release the victims of
this world from their brokenness, to reconnect deeply with the earth, with each
other, and with God, who is the source of our peace – of all that is right with
the world. That is what Jesus was sent
to do, and we are invited to share in that mission of celebration and
healing. If we believe it, we will see
it. Christ will be raised up in our
lives, drawing the whole world to himself.
[1] Dewitt
Jones’ story is shared in the short film, Celebrate
What’s Right with the World with Dewitt Jones.
