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

Thomas

I would not know you, Lord, without your wounds.
If you had risen with your skin made new,
without the marks of all that you went through,
you would not be the teacher that I knew.

And will you let me touch your hands and side,
the holes where nails were driven as you cried,
the place the spearpoint opened you up wide?
And does it hurt, remembering how you died?

I have my own wounds, weeping here with yours;
I have my pain, a lifetime full of scars.
And now I see you stand here, bruised and sore--
Oh, touch my wounds, for they were always ours.

Oh, touch my wounds, as you let me touch yours.
Be with me in my pain forevermore.
And when you come again, have mercy, Lord,
on me and all the weary, wounded world.

Anyway

Although it may not seem like it, this was actually inspired by this Sunday’s Gospel reading about Jesus walking along the shore, calling his disciples. Doubting Thomas and the centurion with sick servant also make appearances.

In deepest night that waits for day,
when we have lost our pride,
when hope and faith have lost their way,
left us without a guide,
when we have broken and betrayed
and run away to hide,
the Lamb appears to us to say,
"Come, touch my hands and side."

This world where sorrow keeps its sway
grinds us beneath its heel.
While pain and loss rule all the day,
we suffer their ordeal.
"Come to us, Lord!" we dare not say,
who so unworthy feel,
but Jesus meets us on the way
to speak the words that heal.

Amid the business of the day
and battles of the night,
we hear the Lamb who calls us say,
"Come, follow now my light."
When we are tangled in the fray
and weary from the fight,
the Lord comes to us anyway
to set the world aright.