Touching wounds

The Sunday post-Resurrection Gospels have moved on... from last week's closed room to this week's outdoor scene; but during this week I have found myself intermittently reflecting on Jesus' encounter with Thomas from last Sunday. In particular, I have wondered whether Thomas did in fact touch Jesus, did in fact place finger and hand in his wounds, or whether, maybe recoiling, he was allowed simply to see. John's Gospel doesn't tell us, just as it doesn't tell us whether anyone else touched him: we only know that Mary Magdalene, in that first rush of relief and belief, was told not to touch him; whereas Thomas was challenged to do so, very specifically.

And reflecting on this, two thoughts have danced and interwoven within me this week. The first is that if Thomas did indeed touch him, how did he do so? Reluctantly, squeamishly, curiously, anxiously, or in awe and wonder...? Was his touch the merest hesitant whisper, or did Jesus firmly guide his hand, as artists such as Caravaggio - for example - suggest?

And secondly: Thomas knew those wounds existed - not only the holes inflicted by nails but the wound in Jesus' side too. How? Could it be because he had seen them - and probably touched them already - on a lifeless body? He may well have been one of the disciples who climbed up to remove nails and thorns and gently lower Jesus' body to the ground. He may well have been one of the ones who would have bathed away as much as they could of grime and blood, before anointing the body and laying it, neatly arranged, in its shroud. We know that Joseph and Nicodemus were there, with linen and spices, but others would surely have worked with them.

But whoever was there, and whatever they may or may not have done, we can be sure of one thing: they would have touched Jesus' body, especially his wounds, with the utmost tenderness, and with tremendous love. Whatever had been inflicted by brutality and cruel intent would be caressed and repaired with love. And that, of course, is how we are called to approach and touch the wounds of those we encounter - and our own wounds, too. Not with reluctance, squeamishness or curiosity, but with tenderness, awe and love: because in here lies reparation, recompense, healing and making whole... through the touch of a great love which is profoundly and intentionally restorative.

To touch wounds with love: that's our mission, especially in this time filled with pain and cruelty.