Love Marked Out

Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve,
was not with them when Jesus came.
So the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.”
But he said to them,
“Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands
and put my finger into the nailmarks
and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”
John 20:19-31

When I look through weeping eyes, Lord,
aching for the light of day;
when I seek and cannot find you
in the shadows of the grave;
when I cannot recognize you,
Teacher, call again my name.

When I turn back to my old ways,
daunted in the face of dread,
wandering confusion's mazes,
tell me what the truth has said.
Come with me to my Emmaus:
Savior, stay and break the bread.

When all that my heart remembers
is your silence in the tomb;
sorrow drowns the burning embers
kindled in the upper room;
show me death was not the ending:
Lord and God, show me your wounds.

When my faith has failed to know you,
when I have to walk by sight,
call my name and bless the broken;
let me reach to touch your side.
Jesus, in your mercy, show me
love marked out for humankind.

Eglise du Saint-Sauveur, transept nord : l’incrédulité de Thomas. Photo By Cyr Manuel Evgenikos – Réunion des Musées Nationaux, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15154497

Broken

Now a week later his disciples were again inside
and Thomas was with them.
Jesus came, although the doors were locked,
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.”
Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
John 20:19-31

We know you in the broken bread,
the wounds in hands and feet,
as one who comes here from the dead:
This is the Christ we meet.

You come to us transformed by pain:
God's only Son is marked
and bearing now the sign of Cain,
revealing God's own heart.

From timelessness you entered time;
you took our blood and breath
to bring us into life divine—
but, oh, that road is death.

We know you by the way you took;
your body is the map.
Now through the sundered veil we look
across the mortal gap.

For you have bid us peer inside 
the wounds in hands and feet.
New mercies open to our eyes,
deep calling out to deep.

And Cain, whose offering was refused,
is comforted at last,
the wheat he gave is finally used
to break the ancient fast.

For Abel has forgiven all,
whose blood spoke from the ground.
Through it we hear the Shepherd call
and know that we are found.

“The incredulity of Thomas” from an English manuscript, c.1504 By Unknown author – This image is available from the National Library of WalesYou can view this image in its original context on the NLW Catalogue, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44920993

Noli Me Tangere

Jesus said to her,
“Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father.
But go to my brothers and tell them,
‘I am going to my Father and your Father,
to my God and your God.’”
John 20:11-18

Untwine my fingers, Lord;
unwrap them from your hand,
from grasping where the nails have bored
and hammer blows did land.

Unclasp my winding arms
that circle you around
to cling to safety in the storm,
and let me run aground.

I clutch at you in fear
and say your wounds I'll tend,
but if my love should hold you here,
then how will you ascend?

How open up the way
and lead the exiles home?
If at my pleading you should stay,
oh, where, then, could I go?

You will not speak again
the words I long to hear,
but bid me go and vanish then:
You leave me in my fear.

Yet through its grip I know
what you have called me to:
Unclench my fists and let you go
that I may follow you.

*Christ and Mary Magdalene* (1890) by Albert Edelfelt in a Finnish locale By Albert Edelfelt – https://www.kansallisgalleria.fi/en/object/393331, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=90602629

Noli Me Tangere

The place where I had laid you
is empty, cold, and bare.
I come again to crave you,
but will not find your there.

Not in the graveyard garden,
nor farflung Galilee—
O Christ, grant me your pardon
and come again to me!

I know that you have risen,
but where, then, is your light
when all the world is prison
and every day is night?

Come forth, O Lord of morning!
Come forth, O rising sun!
My hope, be once more dawning,
and let this night be done!

Or have you gone already
and left me in the tomb?
My earth can't be as heaven
if I am reft of you.

If you are gone, Rabbouni,
still point to me the way
and I will follow, follow
'til break of endless day.

Mary Magdalene

Mary Magdalene stayed outside the tomb weeping.
And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb
and saw two angels in white sitting there,
one at the head and one at the feet
where the Body of Jesus had been.
And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”
She said to them, “They have taken my Lord,
and I don’t know where they laid him.”
John 20:11-18

In the dim, gray light of morning,
when the day's afraid to start,
nothing but a shadow dawning
streatches out across my heart.
But my blood and breath are beating;
their persistence bids me wake.
O my savior, I will seek
while the heart within me breaks.

I will bring you balm and spices,
though they cannot soothe your wounds,
as the new day's sun arises,
though it cannot pierce my gloom.
I will carry on in grieving
though my love can do no more.
I will go on still believing,
though I cannot find my Lord.

There will come to me a morning
when I see again your face,
and a sun within me dawning 
will illuminate your ways,
but 'til then this bitter perfume
fills the chambers of my heart,
and I bring it to anoint you:
Take my offering, O God.

Llimona_Josep_LEnterramentDeCrist_1916_Detall de Maria_Magdalena Photo By Friviere – Own work, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=75418687

We Looked For You Among the Dead

Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve,
was not with them when Jesus came.
So the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.”
But he said to them,
“Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands
and put my finger into the nailmarks
and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”
Now a week later his disciples were again inside
and Thomas was with them.
Jesus came, although the doors were locked,
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.”
Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Jesus said to him, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me?
Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”
John 20:19-31

We looked for you among the dead,
for we had seen your awful wounds.
You coem to us alive instead,
through still-locked doors in hidden rooms.

For you had learned to pass through walls,
through fear and pain, through hell itself.
You opened ways to pass through all;
with open wounds you pass through death.

We could not roll away the stone
that sealed you lifeless in the grave,
but you have passed on ways unknown 
through stone and door to come and save.

And though we hide from all in fear
and go alive to early tombs,
O risen Lord, still you draw near
to breathe your peace in upper rooms.

Inviting, then, you bid us touch
the open ways in hands and side,
to follow you through death and love
on pathways you have opened wide.

You meet us here in living flesh,
and we will meet what you went through.
Come with us yet through life and death,
and may our wounds lead us to you.