Clergy from left, The Rev. Mary Ann Hill, Pastor Nicolé Ferry, Deacon Cynthia Biddlecomb, retired, Associate Priest Lynn Finnegan and Pastor Deb Church. Photo by Nate Limback/ladailypost.com
By The Rev. Mary Ann Hill
On the Sunday following Easter, many churches read the story of “Doubting Thomas”. Thomas sometimes gets a bad rap. He really was more of a pragmatist than a doubter. He was a plain-spoken straight-shooter. His skepticism was completely understandable, given the circumstances. Like all the rest of Jesus’ followers, Thomas knew that his Lord was dead and buried in a tomb. But Thomas wasn’t around when Jesus first appeared to the other disciples after the resurrection.
We don’t know why Thomas wasn’t with his friends. Maybe he was out checking on the rest of Jesus’ followers. Maybe he was fetching some food. Maybe he was so heartbroken that he couldn’t stand to be around anyone else. We just don’t know.
What I find most curious about this part of scripture, is that what really convinces Thomas are the scars that Jesus carries as a result of the crucifixion. In fact, the very idea that in his resurrected state, Jesus still has any scars at all is surprising.
Every time I hear this passage, it reminds me of a song from Gillian Welch’s first album Revival. Welch is a singer-songwriter whose style combines Appalachian music, Bluegrass, and Americana. She was a co-producer and singer on the O Brother where Art Thou soundtrack and had a cameo in the film.
When I cross over
I will shout and sing
I will know my savior
By the mark where the nails have been
It’s significant that Jesus carried the marks of his suffering and death into the Resurrection.
The promise of the Resurrection is not that we won’t be wounded. The promise of the resurrection is that we will be healed, and our wounds will be transformed.
Healing can begin now. All of us have been wounded, and most of us are afraid to look on those wounds. It’s not unlike the ordeal of the bandaid. You remember. When you were a child, a bandaid could make it all better. Even if there was no blood, no broken skin, we wanted to have a bandaid when we fell down.
If there was blood, the second worst thing your mother could say, after a couple of days, was “let’s look under the bandaid and see how it’s doing.” No! Not that! And then the very worst thing she could say was “We better leave the bandaid off and let some air get to it.”
Nooooooooo! But of course, mom was right. At a certain stage, the only way the wound would get better would be if we let some air and light get to it.
The wounds that we carry around with us, the unseen ones that come from living, are like that.
At some point they’ll only get better if we let some air and light in. The idea of facing those wounds can be very frightening because it involves acknowledging our pain. But there are people who are ready to help us, to be our companions on the way. And above all, there is Christ our brother, who has lived our life, who has walked through this beautiful, wild, wounded world, who knows the pain and suffering we’ve known, and then some. Never again do we need to face those wounds alone.
By the mark where the nails have been
By the sign upon his precious skin
I will know my savior when I come to him
By the mark where the nails have been.
Editor’s note: ‘All Shall Be Well’ is a column written by local women clergy including ELCA Deacon Cynthia Biddlecomb, M.Div., retired (czoebidd@gmail.com); Pastor Nicolé Ferry, Bethlehem Evangelical Lutheran Church (pastornicole@bethluth.com); Associate Priest Lynn Finnegan, The Episcopal Church of the Holy Faith, Santa Fe (rev.lynn@holyfaithchurchsf.org); Pastor Deb Church, White Rock Presbyterian Church (pastor@wrpchurch.com) and The Rev. Mary Ann Hill, Rector, Trinity on the Hill Episcopal Church (momaryannhill@gmail.com).
