The Marks of Authentic Love

Doubting Thomas gets a bad rap.  He happened to be out somewhere when Jesus came—maybe he was looking for food, or trying to find out some news.  That would be just my luck—to step out for an hour and miss Jesus!   When he comes back and hears the story of how Jesus appeared to them, right in the room where they were hiding behind locked doors, he insists he won’t believe unless he actually sees Jesus’ scars and puts his hand on them.  But if you look at Jesus’ interaction with the other disciples, it is obvious that they don’t recognize him or accept that he has been raised from the dead until THEY see his hands and side. Seeing Jesus’ wounds or scars with their own eyes is precisely what convinces them that he is really Jesus and he is really alive. 

So when Thomas announces that he won’t believe unless he too sees the scars, he is really just demanding the proof that the other disciples have already had.  Of course, he does go just a little bit further by demanding not only to see Jesus’ scars but to touch them.  That is quite in keeping with what we are told of Thomas’ personality in the gospels.  He was very passionate and a little bit impulsive and tended to see things in black and white.  In the end, even though Jesus offers to let him touch his wounds, Thomas no longer needs to—just seeing them is enough for him to recognize Jesus.  Being Thomas, he doesn’t simply rejoice like the other disciples—he responds with a passionate affirmation of faith:  “My Lord and my God!!”  He had his doubts, but he ends up being the first to affirm that Jesus is God, at least in John’s Gospel.

As an aside, I don’t think doubt is the opposite of faith—I think it is a natural part of faith development.  I believe that fear is the opposite of faith—at the beginning of this scene, we see the disciples paralyzed by fear.  But then they are transformed by their encounter with Jesus.  All of them became apostles who were not afraid to spread the good news far and wide despite persecution and hardship.  Thomas is believed to have reached India by the year 52.  He started a church there known as Mar Thoma, which has been in existence continuously since then and now boasts a million members worldwide. 

But enough of my defense of Thomas.  What I really wanted to focus on is the fact that it was Jesus’ wounds that enabled all of them to recognize him.  This is also true in Luke’s Gospel.  Why didn’t they recognize him just by hearing his voice, as Mary Magdalene did?   Or by some other characteristic?  Why were his wounds the definitive identifying feature?

On one level, his wounds were proof that he really was the same Jesus whom they saw being crucified.  But on a deeper level, his wounds are the mark of authentic love.  Authentic love involves a willingness to give of yourself and even suffer for the sake of the beloved. One of the early heresies was docetism—the belief that Jesus only appeared to suffer—but his spirit actually left his body before he was crucified.  This was based on the Greek understanding of God as an eternal, abstract being incapable of suffering.  But the church quickly vetoed that idea because Jesus reveals a God who loves authentically and is willing to suffer for the sake of the beloved.  Truly loving someone involves self-giving, and that is precisely what Jesus did.  Greater love has no one than to lay down his life for his friends. 

If you love someone with an authentic love, you want what is best for them even when it isn’t best for yourself.  You are willing to give of yourself for that person. 

We learn something of authentic love from families, at least when they are healthy.  Mothers and fathers give of themselves and are willing to suffer for the sake of their children—giving birth, losing sleep, worrying about them, bearing with their developmental stages, suffering when they are hurt, going without so they can have what they need.  Parental love is never perfect and sometimes it is painfully mixed with abuse.  But most parents give of themselves out of love for their children and we know it—that is why we honor them on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. 

Children also often give of themselves for the sake of their parents.  I think especially of children who are caregivers for their parents as their health fails, but there are numerous different examples of sacrificial love in the context of families.  Spouses and partners are continually giving of themselves, and a healthy relationship is marked by growth in both parties’ capacity for self-giving love. 

We see examples of self-giving love all the time.  The Church at its best is a school for self-giving love.   During Holy Week, I could not help but reflect on all the people here at Christ the King who give of themselves out of love, but really, it goes on all the time.  Some of you cook, some clean, some serve in worship, some welcome the stranger, some visit the sick, some feed the hungry, some teach children, some help with administration.  The church wouldn’t exist if you didn’t give your time and your prayers and your treasure. 

And you give of yourselves in your work, in your neighborhoods and in the larger community.    

To be a Christian is to strive to follow in Christ’s footsteps on the path of authentic love.  We are called continually to grow in our capacity to give of ourselves in love.  But the hard part comes when our love is met with hostility, opposition or rejection.  That can come from both friend and enemy—just as Jesus experienced opposition and rejection from both his friends and his enemies. 

Nevertheless,  our calling is to continually widen our circle of love, to take in not only family, friends and community, but every human being.  Our calling is to love friend and enemy alike, and open ourselves to the risk of being hurt that authentic love entails.  Love one another as I have loved you, Jesus tells us.  Loving one another will wound us, just as it wounded Christ.  And if Jesus’ experience is our guide, we will bear the marks of our wounds even when we are raised to new life.  But those wounds make us what we are—they are the mark of authentic love.  They are a sign that we have risked ourselves and given ourselves freely for the sake of love.

Authentic love survives everything—nothing can destroy it—not sin, not evil, not even death.  So the wounds we sustain because of love end up being a sign of our love and a source of healing to others, just as Jesus’ wounds are a sign of his love and a source of healing to us.