Jesus came, although the doors were locked, and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.” – John 20:26
I’ve spent much of my life, really up until just a few years ago, in a locked down state. For many years, I locked up my feelings and my heart. I locked them up behind closed doors, and hid the key. Whatever I was faced with – anxiety, worry, fear, and even joy – I locked it up. I didn’t want others to see what I was experiencing, and so I would put up the facade that everything was fine. I didn’t need help. I could handle it on my own. I locked up my faith.
It’s not that I didn’t believe in God. I did believe in Him, and Jesus, and the Holy Spirit – but I wanted it on my own terms. I didn’t feel I needed to go to a church building to worship. I didn’t need to consume the Eucharist to feel Him. And I surely didn’t need to confess my sins to a priest. I could confess my sins directly to God. I didn’t need the sacraments. I was not an atheist – I knew higher power existed and was the ultimate creator. I have a scientific, analytical mind, and I believed (and still do) that God is the greatest scientist that ever was, is, and will ever be. I believed that Jesus came and died for us, but was it really like it was in the Bible? How could we really know for sure?
I struggled with the whole believe without seeing part. I always like the tradition of the Church though. The tradition of the Mass. And so when I would go on Christmas and Easter – I really enjoyed the liturgy and ritual. But that was the only time I really needed to go. I’d package my feelings and my faith back up, and put it back in the safe and lock it up. I was good, living life the way I wanted to.
I didn’t need to be a part of a community like this. If I was struggling with something – I could think my way out of it. My heart, my feelings, and my faith were on lock-down. I thought I was free, but I was really held captive to my own limitations. And as my marriage progressed, I continued to bottle up my faith. Even after my son was born, I remained locked-down.
But things changed for me. I can’t pinpoint one specific moment, because there were many, each one taking me to a higher step. And as I look up, there is so much more of this mountain to climb. And in reflecting about the readings today – especially the Gospel – one thing stands out that never did before. I absolutely love the reading from John’s Gospel today. Being the proof-minded, analytical type – the whole Doubting Thomas lesson always spoke to me. But there’s one thing today that speaks to me that never did before, one aspect I rarely ever paid attention to, and when I did, I asked, why John wrote that? And why would he tell us twice in this passage?
The phrase in question occurs when Jesus appears to the disciples, and then to Thomas, “even though the doors were locked”.
Surely it’s an effort to express the truth and validity of Jesus’ resurrection and divinity – but to me, this day, this time in my life – there’s more. The disciples were locked down in the upper room. They were locked up in fear, anxiety, worry, disbelief, and confusion. They had abandoned Him. They had denied Him. They were afraid. They were ashamed. They were lost. They didn’t know what to believe. Everything they thought they had believed was lost.
Jesus came to where they were. Amidst all their fear and worry and in their locked up state – Jesus came to them. In the biggest storm of their lives – He came to them bringing them peace and calm. And when He comes again to Thomas, who in his sorrow and despair had isolated himself from the rest of the group the week before – He again brings peace and calm.
Thomas is like so many of us. We turn away from others in times of despair and struggle, and we try to do it on our own. But he needed the group. Jesus came to the group first, who then went to Thomas. And then Thomas had to come see for himself.
Jesus comes to us where we are, He meets us at whatever state we are in, and perhaps He comes to us in those times where our faith is dwindling the most. Those times where we are ashamed, afraid, and where our prayer life is faltering. Or those times when we know we’ve made poor decisions, where we failed Him, where we failed to be faithful, where we sinned against Him – when we are locked-up by sin – He comes to us even more.
I’ve seen this over and over. So many times in my life, Jesus has come to me where I was at, and through some event, or through someone else, He has come to me, behind my locked doors, and He has brought me closer to Him. But then there’s times where I fall away again, and lock things up. But then here comes Jesus – through those locked doors to my soul – bringing me yet even closer to Him. It’s a continuous ascent to the top of this mountain, but even as we go down a little from time to time, as long as we keep letting Him in and don’t try to shut Him out, we’ll always keep moving higher overall.
And so I think that John wrote this specifically so that we would believe – that no matter what the depths of despair – Jesus will come to us. He professed this in the Book of Revelations, where Christ tells him that “once I was dead, but now I am alive forever and ever.” And then Jesus goes on to say, “I hold the keys to death…” Jesus holds the keys, to eternal life, and to our soul. We can’t lock Him out.
John wrote these accounts of what happened, what was happening, and what was to happen so that we would believe. But just like in his day, after everything they saw and witnessed, we tend to fall into doubt. We lock ourselves up and think that Jesus can’t help us, or that we can hide our true selves.
I think in todays world especially, we often live in perpetual lock-down. Sometimes we’re afraid to say things that express our faith. Sometimes we’re afraid to live our faith for fear we’ll be labeled, mocked, or worse yet – a target. The world fills us with doubt and fear about what it means to be Christian – and a Catholic. Sometimes we shut and lock the door. Other times, we lock our spouses out, or our children, those closest to us. But we can’t lock Jesus out.
In the first reading today, from Acts of the Apostles, the people are flocking to see Peter and the other Apostles. The sick, the lame, and the possessed – they all flock to them and they are healed. They all come out of their isolation, from behind their locked doors, and they just wanted the shadow of Peter to fall on them.
When we are troubled, do we flock like this? Do we make it a point to go to Mass, to attend groups or programs at our parishes, or take part in serving others? Do we try to be with Christ through others? The old phrase is true – Birds of a feather, flock together.
Thomas knew he needed to be with the other disciples. He needed community – and through this community, he found Jesus. Jesus came to Thomas where he was, first through others, even though he had tried to lock himself away. Jesus continued to come to all of the sick and ill and disturbed in their isolation – through the Apostles. And Jesus comes to us in the same way – where we are – through each other, especially through our families, and through writings like those we read today in scripture, the lessons from the saints, and the wisdom of those around us.
Jesus comes to us, even though our doors our locked. But it’s up to us to see him, and believe in Him, and invite Him into our soul.
(Acts 5:12-16; Psalm 118; REV 1:9-11A, 12-13, 17-19; John 20:19-31)
