The First Move of Mercy
Jesus came...and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.” - Jn 20:26-27
Last weekend I was reminded of the powerful gift of mercy and God’s invitation to extend it to others. I was visiting my dear friend, Fe, who currently cares for her biological mother (from whom she was estranged for a long time) and an elderly woman with special needs who was abandoned by her family. During my visit with them, I asked Fe where she finds the strength to love others so freely and deeply? She gave me a gentle smile and honestly remarked how challenging it is to love, especially those who can’t—or won’t—love you in return or in the way you would like. “But it’s also changed my life for the better and has helped me experience God’s love and mercy.”
To me, it has always seemed like Fe could love so effortlessly. She then admitted her serious struggles with her brother. There’s a lot of deep division between them right now, and she’s been hurt his words, actions, and cold way of relating to her. “I honestly love my brother, even though he causes me so much pain.” I asked her how she finds a way to love him despite everything. “Honestly, I’m very aware of my imperfections, and I can also see how wounded he is. The Lord made the first move with me in healing my wounds and transforming my limitations. Lately, I’ve felt the call to make the first move with God for my brother, to let God heal his wounds through little acts of love.” Like Thomas in today’s Gospel, Jesus invited Fe to touch his wounds in her brother. But it began when she let him touch her wounds with her, which ignited a healing process, an increase of faith in the God who is merciful, and a call to extend that mercy to others.
I’m not sure she knew it, but Fe proclaimed the Good News of the Resurrection to me that day—Easter Sunday, of all days. Fe’s resurrected wounds reawakened my faith and summoned a call in me to become more involved in this dynamic of mercy: to let God to see my wounds, insecurities, and doubts, and allow his grace to transform them so that I may be encouraged to extend that mercy to others, especially those who give me an allergic reaction.
As I’ve prayed with the challenge of this dynamic of mercy these days, I’m slowly coming to trust in my heart that our wounds—like Jesus’—are not removed but revealed to be part of a greater, divine wound of love and solidarity. Similarly, maybe instead of doubting, perhaps Thomas wanted to see that even the suffering of the cross could somehow be redeemed and transformed in the resurrection. Then, by touching wounds and doubts (ours and those of others), we come to greater peace and deeper faith. We come to share new life in Jesus, who always makes the first move.
Are their wounds and sufferings in my life that long to be raised to new life this Easter season? How might God be trying to do this? Are there ways in which my “resurrected wounds” could help strengthen the faith of others?
David Romero, SJ