The Lion of Alexandria

The Church attributes authorship of the earliest Gospel to Mark the Evangelist, one of the 70 disciples of Christ, and the founder of the Church of Alexandria, one of the original four major Christian dioceses. 


A common tradition identifies Mark the Evangelist with John Mark of the Scriptures (Acts 12:12, 25; 13:5, 13; 15:37), though Hippolytus and others disagree. Mark is said to have become Peter’s interpreter, the writer of the first Gospel, the founder of the Church in Africa, and the bishop of Alexandria. According to Eusebius of Caesarea, Peter apparently chose Mark at some point and made him his travel companion and interpreter. Mark, having recorded "notes" on the sermons of Peter, utilized them in composing his account of the Gospel. 


Mark is said to have left for Alexandria in the third year of Claudius (43 AD), arriving there around 49 AD, some 19 years after the ascension of Christ. There he founded the Church of Alexandria, the descendant of which today is the Coptic Orthodox Church. Aspects of the Coptic liturgy are said to be traced back to St. Mark himself, the first bishop of Alexandria. According to Eusebius (Eccl. Hist. 2.24.1), Mark was succeeded by Annianus as bishop in the eighth year of Nero (62/63 AD), probably, but not definitely, due to his coming death. Later Coptic tradition says that Mark was martyred in 68 AD.


Mark's feast day is celebrated on April 25, and his symbol is the lion. In 828, relics believed to be those of St. Mark were stolen from Alexandria by two Venetian merchants and taken to Venice, where a basilica was built to house the relics. 


 On June 22, 1968, Coptic Pope Cyril VI of Alexandria sent an official delegation to Rome to receive a relic of St. Mark from Pope Paul VI. The delegation included ten metropolitans and bishops, seven of whom were Coptic and three Ethiopian, as well as three Coptic lay leaders. The relic was said to be a small piece of bone that had been given to the Roman Pope by Giovanni Cardinal Urbani, Patriarch of Venice. Pope Paul, in his address to the delegation, noted that the rest of Mark's relics remained in Venice. The next day, the metropolitans, bishops, and priests of the delegation all participated in the pontifical liturgy in the Church of St. Athanasius in Rome.  

Genocide Remembrance Day

Almighty God, our Refuge and our Rock, your loving care knows no bounds and embraces all the peoples of the earth: Defend and protect those who fall victim to the forces of evil, and as we remember this day those who endured depredation and death because of who they were, not because of what they had done or failed to do, give us the courage to stand against hatred and oppression, and to seek the dignity and well-being of all for the sake of our Savior Jesus Christ, in whom you have reconciled the world to yourself; and who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.  Amen. 

The Real Jesus

What if...the next time you came to the Eucharist, when it comes time to pass the Peace, you turn to the bearded man next to you, and as your eyes meet his, you suddenly realize that it’s none other than Jesus the Lord? How might you react: frightened? startled? embarrassed? guilty? Would you feel overwhelmed? full of peace? overcome with joy?

One thing is sure: you wouldn’t be indifferent! You’d feel many or all of the same emotions which, as Luke hints in today’s Gospel passage (Luke 24:36b-48), the Apostles must’ve felt.

Luke’s and John’s accounts about what happened the day Jesus was raised from the dead reflects what was going on some time after the Resurrection event itself. At the time they wrote, the average Christian was being confronted and challenged by non-believers with arguments that Jesus’ resurrection had never happened. The original by-word-of-mouth traditions, as well as the later written accounts of the four Evangelists, carefully interweave facts and data about the Resurrection with answers to these challenges and arguments in order to help the early Christian communities to stand firm in faith, “to account”, as the 1st Letter of Peter says, “for the hope that is in you.”

Luke records that Jesus’ followers become “startled and frightened” when Jesus himself is suddenly there among them. You’ll remember Jesus’ greeting, from last week’s Gospel: “Peace be with you!” Whenever Jesus comes and stands among us, which was his usual way of appearing to the disciples after the Resurrection, wherever he’s present, he brings peace. The disciples react as if they’d seen a ghost. They mistrust heir own eyes. Without their even saying a word, Jesus picks up on their anxiety and the unspoken fear and doubt in their hearts. He asks them “Why are you afraid and doubting?”

Perhaps the reason that even those who were closest to Jesus are troubled is that they, like us, get stuck in their panic, their fright, their fear. How can we trust our perceptions, or other people, when we so mistrust ourselves?

One of Luke’s purposes is to refute some specific mistaken ideas about Jesus which challenged the early Church, particularly the views of those whom we refer to as Docetists. Dokein in Greek means “to seem, to appear as”. The Docetists held that Jesus‘ body was a sort of phantom, that he really didn’t eat or drink, or die, but only seemed to do so. For them, matter was evil and, therefore,God’s Son couldn’t have taken on human flesh.

Luke is very clear about how real Jesus is: “Look at my hands and feet, that it is I myself; touch me and see.” Luke then makes a curious observation: “...in their joy they [the Apostles] were still disbelieving and still wondering.” Isn’t it strange how we frequently run around demanding proof from God? Then when God gives it to us, we find it hard to believe! We could imagine Jesus shaking his head in frustration and asking, “Do you have anything here to eat?” Maybe this was on a Friday, or perhaps his followers were still abstaining, because what they offer Jesus is some broiled fish! Ever the gracious guest, Jesus eats it while they watch! Surely a phantom doesn’t stand there eating fish and chips, but only a real person. And Jesus is definitely real!

The disciples are stuck, not only in fear, but in shallow faith. The evidence before them seems irrefutable. Jesus is standing there; they can touch him; they can see that he’s eating. Yet we get the impression that their hesitant joy isn’t out of any deep conviction about what his presence means or why he’s appeared to them, even though there’s some sense of security. He was dead and they were left alone and fearful. Now he’s back and everything will be OK...maybe.

You and I, too, can find ourselves “disbelieving for joy”. It’s easy to get caught up, anesthetized almost, in the security of wearing the label of “Christian”; the security of feeling emotionally righteous simply because we go to church and share the sacraments; the security of feeling safe because we say our prayers and do all the right things. All of that, surely, is a start, but it’s not necessarily a very deep level of faith. In fact, it risks becoming a false joy, a false security, a false faith, because like Linus, of Charles Schultz’s Peanuts fame, we can use our Christianity as a sort of security blanket.

Once Jesus‘ followers could accept his real presence, Jesus could move them on to the real meaning and purpose of his visiting them. He says, “Remember what I told you when I was with you, how what was written in the Law, the Prophets, and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” Luke then observes: “He opened their minds to understand the Scriptures...”, and tells them that the suffering, risen Jesus’ repentance and forgiveness is to be preached to all, beginning in Jerusalem. “You”, he says, “are witnesses...” A witness testifies to or attests to a fact or a truth. Sometimes facts or truths are observable; sometimes they’re attained by reasoning or by faith. Jesus presents himself in both ways. His is a complete revelation of who he is, the Risen Lord.

Louis Evely writes: “We act as though we are specialists in bad news, when in fact we have been told by Christ that we are to be the bearers of glad rejoicing.” True joy is the counterpart of firm faith. As Luke records it, Jesus teaches us the real lesson of the Resurrection, of Easter: that the joy which he calls us to share among ourselves is precisely our sadness, our fear, our inadequacy, our shallow faith overcome: overcome by the reality of Jesus the Risen Lord who comes and stands among us.

It’s this to which the Risen Jesus calls you and me to be witnesses. We’re assured that our fear, sadness and weakness is overcome because our faith is anchored in the reality of Jesus who stands with us, here and now, and always. The One who “was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands...” (1 John 1:1) -- that is the One whom we proclaim. This real man who is also God’s Son has taken our humanness, our weakness and evil, and overcome it. Through the blood of his Cross Jesus enables you and me to be whole, complete and sound. To the extent that we accept his reality and presence in our own lives, to that extent we can share his message and his presence with one another. Our mutual witnessing is necessary for the resurrection always needing to happen in each of us, always some human weakness, or fear, or sadness needing to be overcome.

In today’s Collect we asked, “...Open the eyes of our faith, that we may behold him in all his redeeming work...” As you and I turn to one another in peace this morning, let it be a genuine sign of faith in Jesus who comes and stands among us, and of our commitment to do our part in fulfilling “his redeeming work”.  

St. Alphege/Aelfheah/Elphege of Canterbury (c. 953-1012)

From the 8th century on, Viking raids were carried out, first by Norwegians. In the 9th century the Danes joined in, beginning with a series of attacks on the east coast of England in 835. By the mid-9th century they had gained a firm foothold on Kent and East Anglia. The resistance to the Danes in the beginning was disorganised and, given the ease of conquest, they decided to settle permanently in England. This was the first step in the establishment of the so-called Danelaw which was the area in eastern and north-eastern England of the time which was under Danish rule. The Danes were never to leave England entirely.

Alphege was born into such a troubled time in the mid-10th century. He was a monk at Deerhurst, then abbot at Bath, and finally, through the influence of Archbishop Dunstan, he became the bishop of Winchester.

In 1005 Alphege succeeded Ælfric as Archbishop of Canterbury, and took St. Swithun's head with him as a relic for the new location. He travelled to Rome in 1007 to receive the pallium, symbol of his status as an Archbishop, from Pope John XVIII, but was robbed during his journey. While at Canterbury he promoted the cult of Dunstan. He also introduced new practices into the liturgy. He was present at the council of May, 1008 at which Wulfstan II, Archbishop of York, preached his a sermon, castigating the English for their moral failings and blaming the latter for the tribulations afflicting the country.

In 1011 the Danes again raided England, and from September 8-29 they laid siege to Canterbury. Aided by the treachery of Ælfmaer, whose life Alphege had once saved, the raiders succeeded in sacking the city. Alphege was taken prisoner and held captive for seven months. Canterbury Cathedral was plundered and burned by the Danes following his capture.

The remainder of St. Alphege's story is recounted in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles:

"A.D. 1011. This year sent the king and his council to the army, and desired peace; promising them both tribute and provisions, on condition that they ceased from plunder. They had now overrun East-Anglia, and Essex, and Middlesex, and Oxfordshire, and Cambridgeshire, and Hertfordshire, and Buckinghamshire, and Bedfordshire, and half of Huntingdonshire, and much of Northamptonshire; and, to the south of the Thames, all Kent, and Sussex, and Hastings, and Surrey, and Berkshire, and Hampshire, and much of Wiltshire. All these disasters befel us through bad counsels; that they would not offer tribute in time, or fight with them; but, when they had done most mischief, then entered they into peace and amity with them. And not the less for all this peace, and amity, and tribute, they went everywhere in troops; plundering, and spoiling, and slaying our miserable people. In this year, between the Nativity of St. Mary and Michaelmas, they beset Canterbury, and entered therein through treachery; for Elfmar delivered the city to them, whose life Archbishop [Alphege] formerly saved. And there they seized Archbishop [Alphege], and Elfward the king's steward, and Abbess Leofruna, and Bishop Godwin; and Abbot Elfmar they suffered to go away. And they took therein all the men, and husbands, and wives; and it was impossible for any man to say how many they were; and in the city they continued afterwards as long as they would. And, when they had surveyed all the city, they then returned to their ships, and led the Archbishop with them. Then was a captive he who before was of England head and Christendom; there might be seen great wretchedness, where oft before great bliss was seen, in the fated city, whence first to us came Christendom, and bliss 'fore God and 'fore the world. And the Archbishop they kept with them until the time when they martyred him.


A.D. 1012. This year came Alderman Edric, and all the oldest counsellors of England, clerk and laity, to London before Easter, which was then on the ides of April; and there they abode, over Easter, until all the tribute was paid, which was 48,000 pounds. Then on the Saturday was the army much stirred against the
bishop; because he would not promise them any fee, and forbade that any man should give anything for him. They were also much drunken; for there was wine brought them from the south. Then took they the bishop, and led him to their hustings, on the eve of the Sunday after Easter, which was the thirteenth before the calends of May; and there they then shamefully killed him. They overwhelmed him with bones and horns of oxen; and one of them smote him with an axe-iron on the head; so that he sunk downwards with the blow; and his holy blood fell on the earth, whilst his sacred soul was sent to the realm of God. The corpse in the morning was carried to London; and the bishops, Ednoth and Elfhun, and the citizens, received him with all honour, and buried him in St. Paul's minster; where God now showeth this holy
martyr's miracles. When the tribute was paid, and the peace oaths were sworn, then dispersed the army as widely as it was before collected. Then submitted to the king five and forty of the ships of the enemy; and promised him, that they would defend this land, and he should feed and clothe them..."

The Tenth Muse

Blessed Juana Inés de la Cruz (1651–1695), whose full name was Juana Inés de Asbaje y Ramírez de Santillana, was a self-taught scholar and poet of the Baroque school, and a nun of New Spain. Although she lived in a colonial era when Mexico was part of the Spanish Empire, she is considered today a Mexican writer, and stands at the beginning of the history of Mexican literature in the Spanish language.


Juana was born in San Miguel Nepantla near Mexico City, the illegitimate child of a Spanish captain, Pedro Manuel de Asbaje, and a Criollo woman, Isabel Ramírez. Her father seems to have been absent from her life. Baptized in 1651, the baptismal records describe her as "a daughter of the Church". She was raised in Amecameca where her maternal grandfather owned a hacienda. Juana was a devoutly religious child, often hiding in the hacienda chapel in order to read her grandfather's books from the adjoining library, something which was forbidden to girls. Amazingly, she learned how to read and write at the age of three. By five, she reportedly could do accounts. At age eight, she composed a poem on the Eucharist. By the time she was an adolescent, she had mastered Greek logic, and at age thirteen she was teaching Latin to young children. She also learned the Aztec language of Nahuatl, and wrote some short poems in that language.


In 1664, when she was 16, she was sent to live in Mexico City. She asked her mother's if she could disguise herself as a male student in order to gain access to the university. Not being permitted to do this, of course, she continued her studies privately. The Vicereine Leonor Carreto, wife of the Viceroy Antonio Sebastián de Toledo, served as her tutor. The viceroy, put the 17 year old Juana's learning and intelligence to the test when he invited several theologians, jurists, philosophers, and poets to a meeting during which Juana was asked to answer, without any preparation, many questions, including difficult ones on various scientific and literary subjects. She astonished all present by her responses, and eventually her literary accomplishments garnered her fame throughout New Spain. She was much admired in the viceregal court, and declined several proposals of marriage. Eventually, in 1667, she entered the Convent of the Discalced Carmelites of St. Joseph as a postulant, and in 1669, the Convent of the Order of St. Jérôme.


Responding to criticism of her writing, Juana wrote a letter, Respuesta a Sor Filotea (Reply to Sister Filotea), in which she defended women's right to an education. In response, the Archbishop of Mexico and other high-ranking officials condemned her "waywardness". By 1693, Sor Juana seems to have stopped writing rather than risk the Church's official censure. However, there is no undisputed evidence of her renouncing her devotion to writing, though there are documents which state that she agreed to undergo penance. Juana's name is affixed to such a document in 1694, but it belies her deep natural lyricism, and smacks of the kind of penitential documents couched in rhetorical and autocratic Church formulae, and suggests possibly someone else's authorship. She is said to have sold all of her extensive library, some 4,000 volumes, as well as her musical and scientific instruments. Only a few of her writings have survived, known as the Complete Works, probably saved by the Vicereine Leonor.


Sor Juana de la Cruz died in April 1695, at the age of 43, after ministering to other nuns stricken during a plague.


One of the most important books about Sor Juana, written by Octavio Paz, Sor Juana: Or, the Traps of Faith (translated by Margaret Sayers Peden, 1989), deals with Sor Juana's poetry and life in the context of the history of New Spain. It focusses particularly on the difficulties women faced at that time trying to gain access to and become successful in the academic and artistic fields. Paz was drawn to Sor Juana's work by trying to answer basic questions about her personality and life: Why did she become a nun? What motivated her renunciation of her lifelong passion for writing and learning? Such questions, he realized, could be answered only in the context of the culture in which she lived, a world wherein the subjugation of women was absolute. In his book, Paz thoroughly analyzes Sor Juana's poetry and traces some of her influences to the Spanish writers of the Golden Age. Sor Juana's most ambitious and extensive poem, First Dream (Primer Sueño), is largely a representation of the desire of knowledge through a number of hermetic symbols, transformed into her own language, and utilizing her skilled image-making abilities. Paz concludes that Sor Juana's was the most important body of poetic work produced in the Americas until the arrival of nineteenth century figures such as Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman.

Mary Molly Brant (c.1736 – April 16, 1796)

Mary Brant (Konwatsi'tsiaienni = "Someone Lends Her a Flower" or Degonwadonti = "Two Against One") was a Mohawk woman who became known in the era of the American Revolution. Few facts are known about her early life. Named Mary, but commonly known as "Molly", she was born around 1736, possibly in the Mohawk village of Canajoharie, or perhaps further west in the Ohio Country. Her parents were Christian Mohawks, possibly named Margaret (Cannassware) and Peter. Joseph Brant (Thayendanegea), born in 1743, was Molly's brother or half-brother, and became an important Mohawk leader.


The Mohawk are one of the Six Nations of the Iroquois League. At the time of the American Revolutionary War, they lived primarily in the Mohawk River valley in what is now upstate New York. At some point, either before or after her birth, Molly's family moved west to the Ohio Country, which was used as an Iroquois hunting ground. After Molly's father died, her family moved back to Canajoharie. In 1753, Molly's mother married Brant Kanagaradunkwa, a Mohawk sachem of the Turtle clan. Possibly to reinforce their connection to Brant Kanagaradunkwa, a prominent leader, Molly and Joseph took their stepfather's name as a surname, an unusual choice for that time.

Molly Brant was raised in a Mohawk culture that was highly anglicized. In Canajoharie, the Brants lived in a substantial colonial-style frame house, used many European household goods, and attended the Church of England. Though Molly was fluent in Mohawk and English, it's not clear whether she was formally educated or whether she could read or write. A letter from 1782 is signed with "her mark", indicating that she may have been only semi-literate.

In 1754, Molly accompanied her stepfather and a delegation of Mohawk elders to Philadelphia, and then to Albany, where the men were to discuss a fraudulent land sale with colonial leaders. When General Sir William Johnson, the influential British Superintendent for Northern Indian Affairs, visited Canajoharie, he would stay at the house of his friend, Molly's stepfather, Brant Kanagaradunkwa. Johnson and Molly Brant became intimate, and in September, 1759, she gave birth to a son. Later, in Johnson's will, Molly is referred to as his "housekeeper", which at the time meant that she ran the household, served as hostess, and supervised the female servants and slaves. According to the historian Barbara Graymont, "Mary Brant presided over Johnson's household with intelligence, ability, grace, and charm, and she effectively managed the estate during Johnson's many and prolonged absences." Johnson and Brant's relationship was public, and Johnson used his connection with Brant to further his public and private dealings with the Iroquois. Brant's role as Johnson's domestic and political partner was well known. They lived together at Fort Johnson, and then at Johnson Hall after 1763. She became effectively Sir William's common-law wife or consort. 

The couple had nine children together, eight of whom lived past infancy. William Johnson died in July 1774. In his will he left land, money, and slaves to Brant and her children. Molly and her family returned to Canajoharie where she lived a comfortable life in a large house, and prospered as a trader.

Brant supported the British Crown during the American Revolutionary War. From her home in Canajoharie, she provided food and assistance to Loyalists who were fleeing from New York to Canada. Despite harassment from local Patriots, she remained at Canajoharie for the first two years of the war.

A turning point came in 1777 when British forces invaded New York from Canada and laid siege to Patriots in Fort Stanwix. In August, when Brant learned that a large body of Patriot militia was on its way to relieve the fort, she sent Mohawk runners to alert the British commander of the danger. This information enabled a British, Mohawk, and Seneca force to ambush the Patriots and their Oneida allies in the Battle of Oriskany. After this battle, in which Iroquois warriors fought on both sides, the war in the Mohawk Valley became particularly brutal. The Oneida and Americans retaliated against Brant by pillaging Canajoharie. Brant fled with her children to Onondaga, the Iroquois capital, her departure was so hurried that she had to leave behind most of her belongings.

Molly Brant continued her work of sustaining the Anglo-Iroquois alliance. At Onondaga, the Iroquois held a council to discuss what course to take. Most Iroquois favored assisting the British, but after the Battle of Saratoga, it seemed unlikely that the British could win. Sayenqueraghta, a Seneca chief, urged the Iroquois to withdraw from the war. Brant criticized Sayenqueraghta's advice, invoking the memory of Sir William to convince the council to remain loyal to the Crown. Much of Brant's influence came from her connections to Sir William Johnson and her stepfather Brant Kanagaradunkwa. Additional influence came from the fact that women in matrilineal Iroquois society had more political influence than women in patriarchal societies. Historian Robert Allen writes that "there is no substantive evidence to suggest that Molly was ever a clan matron or mother within the Iroquois matrilineal society". Others contend that, though she was not born to the position, she, in actuality, became one of the Mohawk matrons.

In late 1777, Brant relocated to Fort Niagara at the request of Major John Butler, who considered her influence among the Iroquois to be indispensable. At Niagara, Brant worked as an intermediary between the British and the Iroquois. In 1779, she visited Montreal, where some of her children attended school, but headed back when the Americans began their invasion of Iroquoia that year. She was only able to get as far as the British post at Carleton Island in Canada, where many Iroquois refugees had fled from the Americans, and there she continued her work as an intermediary. Nevertheless, Brant was unhappy living in an army barracks with her children. To accommodate her, the British built her a house on the island in 1781, where she lived with her children and four slaves for the remainder of the war.

Carleton Island was largely abandoned in 1783, and so Brant moved to Cataraqui, now Kingston, Ontario, Canada. Here the British government, in recognition of her service to the Crown, built her a house and gave her an annual pension of £100. They also compensated Brant and her family for their losses in the American Revolution. Hoping to make use of her influence, the United States even offered Brant compensation if she would return with her family to the Mohawk Valley, but she refused.

Molly Brant stayed in Kingston for the remainder of her life, and became a respected member of the community, as well as a charter member of the local Anglican Church. Her son George Johnson, known as "Big George" among natives, married an Iroquois woman and became a farmer and teacher; her daughters married prominent white men. Molly Brant died in Kingston on April 16, 1796, at about age 60. She was buried in St. Paul's Churchyard, Kingston's original burial ground, now the site of St. Paul's Anglican Church. The exact location of her grave is unknown.  Though no portraits of her are known to exist, there is an idealized likeness of her on a statue in Kingston, as well as on a Canadian stamp issued in 1986 (see above photo).

Since 1994, Brant has been honored as a Person of National Historic Significance in Canada. She was long ignored or disparaged by U.S. historians, but towards the end of the 20th century scholarly interest in her life increased. She is commemorated on April 16 in the calendar of the Anglican Church of Canada, and appears also in the Episcopal Church's Holy Women, Holy Men.

The One Who Comes & Stands With Us

The Day of Resurrection: Easter Sunday, which we celebrated just a week ago, is the greatest feast of the Church’s year, the feast from which all others originate. Every Sunday that follows is an Easter-in-miniature, a reminder for you and me, of its central place in our spiritual and liturgical life.

Aside from the primary focus of Christ’s definitive victory over evil and death, Easter gives hints of resurrection in other ways. With the arrival of Spring, surely varying in degree from year to year, as we’ve seen in recent days (!), we witness a transformation in nature, a resurrection, from cold and wind and storm to budding trees and blooming flowers. Fr. Pius Parsch says “Springtime is nature executing her Easter liturgy.” (The Church’s Year of Grace, Liturgical Press, Vol. III, p. 13) Nature becomes a holy symbol, a picture book of God’s beauty and love.

Another kind of resurrection takes place within the Body of the Church. For many, Easter is the actual anniversary of their baptism. In the Easter service the rest of us at least renew the vows we pledged in baptism. As the Church you and I are part of a new and holy revival, opening our minds and hearts to the energizing forces of the Risen Christ. Today’s Scripture readings give us specific examples of such renewal.   

John’s account of the resurrection and its aftermath in his Gospel reports four instances of people’s reactions to it: first, John the Beloved, who looked into the empty tomb and “saw and believed”; second, Mary of Magdala, who finds the tomb empty, to her great distress, but, when called by name, sees and knows that the supposed gardener is really Jesus; third, the disciples, whose cowering fear is turned into joy as Jesus comes and stands among them; and finally, Thomas, the focus of today’s Gospel passage, wherein Jesus “comes and stands” once more (John 20:19-31). For the Gospel writers Jesus coming and standing describes the way in which the disciples experience Jesus’ resurrection.

St. John writes from the perspective of an increasing split between the Jewish tradition and the newly emerging Jesus movement toward the end of the 1st century, even from before Jesus’ death. Joseph of Arimathea had kept his discipleship secret “for fear of the Jewish leaders”. Many people were reluctant to openly support Jesus’ ministry for the same reason. The blind man’s parents at the Pool of Siloam fear to tell the truth “because they feared the Jewish officials”. Not long after the Gospel was written, a writer of John’s tradition penned the 1st Letter of John, a passage of which is today’s Epistle., wherein the writer speaks of another split which has riven John’s community. Dissenters within the Christian community have compromised the truth which Jesus handed down: “They went out from us, but they did not belong to us...by going out they made it plain that none of them belongs to us.” When people or groups lose hope and become fearful, Christian confession weakens. Confusion, doubt and misunderstanding creep in and soon faith is shaken, even lost.

In the midst of such an atmosphere of hopelessness and fear, in the Gospel, Jesus suddenly appears with the disciples on the first day of the week, even though the doors had been locked. “Shalom = Peace be to you!”, he says. They see that it’s really him because he shows them his hands and his side. Though there’s also some hard-to-name difference, they’re nevertheless reassured that it’s Jesus and they rejoice, their sagging spirits replaced with smiles.

Jesus repeats his wish of peace, and tells the disciples that even as the Father has already sent him and continues sending him, so Jesus is now sending them. The word Apostle means “one who is sent; an emissary”. Jesus actualizes his prayer with an important visible action. Breathing on them, he says: “Receive Holy Spirit”, the Hebrew of which literally means holy breath. In essence, the Risen Lord sets God’s creative power into action, releases it, within the community of his faith-full followers. This isn’t in order to achieve some sort of spiritual pyrotechnics, such as fantastic miracles or babbling in tongues, but to carry forward in their lives and associations with others Jesus the Word, his message, his compassion and forgiveness, his servanthood. 

Throughout his Gospel and letters, John views sin as unfaithfulness, unbelief. The Risen Lord here empowers his community of disciples, through the Father’s life-giving Spirit, to isolate, repel and negate all that is sin and evil. Easter is Jesus‘ resurrection, his glorification as God’s Son, and the giving of the Spirit all rolled into one. This understanding finally enables the community of faith to shed its fear and doubt, and to realize that it’s never abandoned or alone. The Risen One comes and stands with them, always.

“A person who has never doubted is a person who has never thought.” (Frederick Buechner) Thomas wasn’t with the other disciples the night Jesus came to them. Thomas appears twice previously in John’s Gospel: once in Chapter 11 where he’s referred to as “the twin”, and again in Chapter 14 when, at the Last Supper, he says to Jesus: “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going. How can we know the way?” 

Only in 1945, with the discovery of the Nag Hammadi writings in Egypt did scholars become aware of a series of references to Thomas the Apostle, which Jesus’ followers would’ve heard about or with which they’d have been familiar. This was a collection of 52 writings, including a well-preserved early Christian, non-canonical sayings-gospel, called the Gospel of Thomas, as well as several other books. In that Gospel Thomas is called Didymos Judas Thomas, didymos being the Greek for twin. He’s pictured as a mystic seer, in contrast to his depiction in John’s Gospel. In the commissioning scene in the Gospel of Thomas Jesus challenges the disciples to tell him what he’s like, comparing him to something. Peter exclaims: “like a just angel”; Matthew responds: “like a wise philospher”. Thomas says: “Teacher, my mouth is utterly unable to say what you are like.” Jesus then takes Thomas and withdraws, and speaks three sayings to him. When Thomas returns, his friends ask him: “What did Jesus say to you?” He answers: “If I tell you one of the sayings he spoke to me, you will pick up rocks and stone me, and fire will come from the rocks and devour you.” In this Gospel, Thomas is a hero and the others seem less knowledgeable, but in John’s Gospel, it’s a literal-minded Thomas who seems not to understand. Given this as a background, it would be under- standable that, within John’s community, his followers might have looked skeptically and with some scorn at the claims of Thomas‘ followers.

When the other disciples tell Thomas that they’ve seen the Lord, Thomas reacts somewhat negatively and harshly: “Unless I see the mark of the nails...and put my finger in the mark of the nails...never will I believe!” Thomas personifies the lack of faith of some 1st century Christians. He needs to see, to prove, to have it all nailed down first. 

A week later, John recounts, Thomas is with them as Jesus makes a return appearance, again declaring “Peace!” He gets right down to business, inviting Thomas to “put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Don’t be faithless, but believing and faithful.” Thomas is dumbfounded. John doesn’t record whether Thomas ever acted on Jesus‘ invitation. Once the Risen Jesus had come and stood in front of him, all Thomas could do was to acknowledge the reality in words echoing Psalm 34:23 (“...arise to my defense, my God and my Lord!), as well as echoing the historian, Suetonius, who tells us how the emperor Domitian, who ruled during the time-frame of John’s Gospel, required that he be called, viz., “our Lord and God”. Voicing his faith in an ultimate confession, Thomas stammers: “Yes, it’s Jesus and he is God!” 

Jesus‘ next question to Thomas, and a good reality check for you and me, is kind of like:

“Really?...have you believed just because you saw me?” He challenges us to examine our faith. The late Anglican Franciscan and biblical scholar, Barnabas Lindars, observes:  “Being absent when Jesus appeared to the disciples on Easter night, Thomas was virtually in the position of the Christian who has not seen the risen Jesus, and he should not have needed a further appearance in order to come to faith.” “Blessed are those,” says Jesus, who haven’t seen...” and yet have faith that Jesus isn’t absent, that he’s always with us, always coming and standing before us in order that we can have faith.

John concludes with words which originally, before editing took place, concluded the whole Gospel. John says that he’s narrated these signs, only a few of many, many signs which Jesus did, “so that you may continue to believe”, to set your heart on, and to stake your life on, the Risen One who gives you and the whole Church light, love and life through a release of Holy Spirit as he comes and stands among us. 

Spiritual writer, Frederick Buechner, who I might proudly add is also an Associate of our Order of Julian of Norwich, says: “...if you don’t have any doubts you are either kidding yourself or asleep. Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith. They keep it awake and moving.”

“...this is the victory which overcomes the world, our faith.” (John 5:4)