Several years ago I was asleep in the rectory at the parish in Kiln, Mississippi (which is just about as big as it sounds.) Someone came knocking on the bedroom door. “There’s a fire, the convent is on fire.” In my groggy just waking up mode I looked out the window to see the convent fully engulfed in flames – instantly fully awake. Hurrying to get dressed and out the door I was relieved to see five women in pajama, bathrobes and slippers standing across the street from the fire. All of the sisters had gotten out. I ran up to them and checked that they were all right. Only after I had hugged each of the sisters individually did I breathe a sigh of relief and trust that they were safe. Looking back, it was necessary for me to actually touch them in order to feel the blessed assurance that all was well. There is something about human touch which is primal. Mothers tell me that when the new born infant is placed against their skin for the first time an unbreakable bond is formed. Watching young people tentatively holding each other’s hands shows they are learning how to be a couple. During covid one of the unacknowledged tragedies was that family members could not enter the hospital room and hold their infected loved ones at the moment of death. Grief piled upon grief. From the beginning to the end of life, human touch makes a connection unlike any other.
The Bible account shows Thomas was aware of how necessary it is to touch in order to have a genuine human connection. “Unless I put my finger in the nail marks, unless I put my hand in this side, I will not believe.” Touching would make belief possible. You might be able to see Jesus in a picture show. You might be able to hear Jesus on the radio. But to meet Jesus, to make contact with Jesus, to bond with Jesus you need to touch him, to feel his presence, to have a human connection. Jesus got it; he knew touch was important. “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.” Because of that touch Thomas was able to confess his faith: “My Lord and my God.”
That puts us at a disadvantage. Jesus is not likely to walk into our locked up room so that we can reach out and touch him. Happily, though, Jesus gives us some instruction so that he can breach our locked up heart and touch our lives just as surely as he did that of Thomas. For example, Jesus once said, “Wherever two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” That’s us. We’re more than three and we are gathered in the name of Jesus so he is here in our midst. It is in the Christian community that we can touch Jesus. We do so when we touch the lives of one another with compassion, generosity and forgiveness. The concrete liturgical expression of touching Jesus comes in the Sign of Peace. We have welcomed Christ onto the altar during the Eucharistic Prayer. We say the Our Father and then we extend the peace. We are not saying “hi” to old friends or greeting new ones during the Sing of Peace. We’re not checking in on how someone is doing or inquiring about the latest news. The Sign of Peace is the time when we make concrete our belief that Jesus is among us when we are together with one another. During the sign of peace we acknowledge that we are in the presence of the holy people of God – not so much holy because of how virtuous or prayerful we are but holy because the risen Jesus has forgiven us, named us and claimed us. We are touching the Jesus who lives in our hearts as we share peace with one another.
Again, Jesus said, “Whatsoever you do to the least of my people, that you do unto me.” The word of the Lord: if you want to touch me you can do so by touching the lives of those in need. We have to do a little work for this to happen since Jesus is well disguised when we look for him in the hungry and the homeless, the addicted and afflicted, the sick and the suffering, lost and the lonely, the depressed and the dying. The saints can do it. Think of Mother Teresa who said that every time she helped a poor person she felt like she was helping Jesus. Maybe we don’t have that kind of spiritual insight but we can give of ourselves even without it. What happens to many people when they feed the hungry or clothe the naked or visit the sick or console the grieving is they find that we receive much more than they give. They receive an awareness of how precious every person is – and that is how we can touch Christ.
Finally, we particularly touch Jesus in the Holy Eucharist. “This is my body. This is my blood.” That certainly was the experience of the early Church according to the Acts of the Apostles. Even though Jesus was not walking with them any longer they touched him by being devoted to “the communal life, to the breaking of the bread and to the prayers.” There is a sermon preached by the great African bishop, St. Cyprian of Carthage, back in the earliest days of the church, around the year 250AD. Cyprian said that when we hold out our hand in order to receive Holy Communion it is as if we are creating a manger like the one in Bethlehem for Jesus to come into the world, come into our lives, come into our hearts. Because we touch Jesus in the Eucharist, we too can say, “My Lord and my God.”
