Image of Saint John the Baptist, stained glass. Saint John’s University, Great Hall. photo by Rosy Kandathil.
The beginning of spring is always awkward. Saturday, I woke up to snow. Sunday morning, the sun was shining in a warm blue sky, putting the chase to winter. But by Monday morning, I could see frost on my window panes again; it was 27 degrees. With all these clumsy up and downs, I can’t figure out what season we’re in.
I haven’t written for a while. To tell the truth, it’s been a long and draining semester. I’ve felt buried by schoolwork and haven’t had the energy or motivation to reach out. Most of my resources have been focused on getting through my reading, or my papers, or my translations, or the next homily I have to preach for class. Although I enjoy learning, it’s tiring to be in the classroom and always feel like a beginner.
It’s been awkward for other reasons, too. There have been so many transitions lately: from Lent to Good Friday to Easter, from being at school to being back at the monastery, from novice to sister. Like a long distance relationship, it’s awkward coming back to the monastery yet I miss it constantly when I’m away. What do I do with this distressing sense of living in the in-between? Fortunately, I’m at a theology school and a Benedictine monastery! In prayer, there are constant opportunities to meet Christ in the midst of my discomfort.
Caravaggio’s The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, 1602. Image courtesy of WikiCommons.
As I prepare for my homiletics class this week, I’ve been spending time with Thomas. The Gospel text I’ll be preaching from is John 20:19-31 and includes the Apostle’s uncomfortable post-resurrection encounter with Christ. Thomas wasn’t with the other disciples on Easter night to witness Jesus’ return. Hurt and refusing to believe anybody else’s testimony afterwards, Thomas incredulously claimed: “Unless I see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). Eight days later, Jesus appears again and now invites Thomas to investigate His wounds. As the other disciples stand around awkwardly, I imagine Jesus looking lovingly into Thomas’ stricken face as He gently urges: “Do not be unbelieving, but believing” (John 20:27). The whole uncomfortable episode has earned the Apostle a disparaging but memorable nickname, “Doubting Thomas.”
Saint John’s Abbey Cemetery. Photo by Rosy Kandathil.
But he isn’t called “Doubting Thomas” where I come from. Instead, he is honored as the patron saint of India, Mar Thoma (Saint Thomas). As a child, I grew up hearing Saint Thomas’ later story told in reverent terms. The legend is that Mar Thoma took one of the Roman trading routes to the distant lands of Kerala in South India. Far from familiar Galilean shores, he preached and taught the good news of Christ faithfully in the land of my ancestors, ultimately founding seven churches in India before he was finally martyred. For generations, my family has been a part of the Mar Thoma Church, named after that courageous missionary disciple of Jesus. My family is proud of these ancient Christian roots: the Western church had Paul, but the Indian church had Thomas in a special way.
It wasn’t until later in my life that I discovered Thomas’ backstory. His journey was more complex than I’d imagined as a child; he had an awkward season too. His example helps me to remember that in a life of faith, you can survive all kinds of awkward moments and yet emerge more certain of your commitments in the end—and a blessing to generations beyond your imagination.
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Read other blog posts from Sister Rosy in her series, Letters home.
Comments 6
I would called him bold Thomas. He was bold enough to expect a vision of his own – a personal encounter. And so he waited. As a result he received a deepening of his faith. He traveled furthest of all the apostles spreading the good news. His personal encounter fueled his journey all the way to India so that you can preach about him some day. I think it’s good news to “not” be willing to take someone else’s word but boldly look to Jesus to reveal himself to us – nothing less will do. Hope that brings you a bit of sunshine! More good news June is right around the corner.
Hi Christine! I agree. Thomas was a bold disciple, and a good example for a perennial investigator like me. Thanks for the sunshine and the hope of June in your message. It’s freezing up here though — 25 degrees, as I write. Brrrr!
Wow! I just sent a love note off to you this morning and here you are with news of your life. We’re in the web! Thanks for your comments on awkwardness that we can all relate to so well. Awkwardness has it’s own wonderful grace. I love the paradoxical image: awkward–graceful. It makes me smile.
Phyllis! I just got your love note…and it was everything you promised. A hug in an envelope. Thanks for thinking of me, and reminding that there is a kind of grace in the awkwardness. It’s easy to get lost in the self-consciousness and forget that. Looking forward to seeing you soon!
Aw yes, living in awkward moments. I am touched especially by the Monastery back and forth. It is awkward for me also. I think of it as living in Holy Saturday! Thanks for the writing. Smiles, Marcia
Hi Marcia! Yes, we’re both sharing in the “back and forth,” huh? I can picture your smile and good humor as I write. It’s good to remember that I’m not alone in navigating between spaces. Holy Saturday is the difficult in-between that I am so often trying to work and wriggle my way out of living into. Thanks for your words of wisdom!