Viva the Archdiocese of Las Vegas- Updated

As I hinted in Sunday's post, there is some fairly big Church news that breaking today. What is this news? The creation of a new ecclesiastical province: the Archdiocese of Las Vegas.

All of the territory for this new metropolitan province comes from the Archdiocese of San Francisco. San Francisco is an enormous archdiocese. Until today it counted twelve dioceses as suffragan dioceses. Among those were the dioceses of Las Vegas, Reno, and Salt Lake City. Now, these three dioceses together comprise the Archdiocese of Las Vegas.

Going back to the late nineteenth century, Utah and most of Nevada were part of the same Vicariate Apostolic. This vast area was served by Lawrence Scanlan. Scanlan went on to become the first bishop of Salt Lake City. He was ordained a bishop on 29 June 1887 in San Francisco. As a bishop, he continued to have charge of this vast territory until his death on 10 May 1915 in Salt Lake City.

Considering the establishment of the Archdiocese of Las Vegas and the growth of the Catholic Church throughout the huge territory where he so faithfully ministered, it is interesting to remember that at the time of his death, Bishop Scanlan was not terribly optimistic about the future of the Roman Catholic Church in this part of the United States. It seems to me that Bishop Scanlan's skepticism about the Church's prospects here supports one of my main theological theses: hope only begins where optimism ends.

On 27 January 1891, Pope Leo XIII erected the Diocese of Salt Lake City. At that time, the diocese included most of Nevada. It was not until 27 March 1931 that Pope Pius XI created the Diocese of Reno. This diocese consisted of territory taken from the Dioceses of Sacramento and Salt Lake City. From its inception until 21 March 1995, the Diocese of Reno covered the entire state of Nevada. Pope John Paul II, splitting Nevada in two, made the Diocese of Las Vegas, all of its territory coming from the Diocese of Reno.

Cathedral of the Guardian Angels, Las Vegas, Nevada

If I am not mistaken, when the Archdiocese of Denver was erected in 1941, there was a proposal to move the Diocese of Salt Lake City into that metropolitan province, but this did not happen. Originally, Utah was to be aligned with Colorado. Despite the Holy See's creation in 1871 of the Vicariate Apostolic of Colorado and Utah, this alignment never really occurred.

The Vicariate of Colorado and Utah lasted until 1887 when Utah was designated a Vicariate Apostolic in its own right under the jurisdiction of the Archdiocese of San Francisco. As already mentioned, this vicariate and, from 1891 to 1931, this diocese, included most of Nevada. So, until today, the Diocese of Salt Lake City remained the eastern outpost of the vast metropolitan province of San Francisco.

Two bishops of Salt Lake City moved on to serve as archbishop of San Franciso: John Mitty and George Niederauer. I have to note that I was ordained a deacon in 2004 by then-Bishop Niederauer. Another bishop of Salt Lake City, William Weigand, went on to serve as bishop of the Diocese of Sacramento. Sacramento was the other diocese from which territory was taken in 1931 to establish the Diocese of Reno.

One more historical note I want to bring up is that the first native Utahn to be ordained a priest, Robert Dwyer, went on to serve as the second bishop of the Diocese of Reno. From there, he was named archbishop of Portland, Oregon. Dwyer, to date, remains one of only two priests of the Diocese of Salt Lake City to be consecrated bishop. The other is Duane Hunt, an adult convert to the faith, who served as the fifth bishop of Salt Lake City.

Interestingly, the metropolitan see of the new archdiocese is the youngest of the dioceses that comprise the province. Today's establishment of the Archdiocese of Las Vegas has the effect of elevating George Leo Thomas to the rank of archbishop. Archbishop Thomas, the third bishop of Las Vegas, has served there since 2018. Originally from Seattle, where he was an auxiliary bishop, he served as bishop of the Diocese of Helena, Montana before being sent by Pope Francis to Las Vegas. His suffragan bishops are Oscar Solis of Salt Lake City (my bishop and much-beloved friend) and Daniel Mueggenborg of Reno. Archbishop Thomas also has an auxiliary bishop: Gregory Gordon.

Service as a healing gift: getting outside myself

As it turns out, I can't quite wait until 2 June to resume blogging. In light of my recent struggles, which I noted in my previous post, I have to say that getting outside of myself is quite helpful. On Thursday morning, as I was working from home, my phone rang. To my shame, I thought it was my wife calling me for the third time in rapid succession. Resisting the temptation, to just pick up my phone, swipe, and say something like the gentle but slightly annoyed spousal, "What now?," I looked and saw that it was a call from Bishop Solis, my bishop.

Because I serve as the Director of the Office of the Diaconate, I have responsibility for both permanent deacons and those in formation to be deacons. Hence, I thought my bishop was probably calling me about a clergy personnel matter. So, managing a polite, "Hello, bishop," he asked me if I was available to accompany him on a trip to Southern Utah. He informed me that if I was available, we would need to leave in two hours. I was able to quickly make some arrangements at home and work and go with him.

On Thursday we traveled from Salt Lake City to St. George, Utah. Arriving in the late afternoon, we stayed in the parish rectory with Frs. Dave Bittemann and Tristan Dillon. We spent a pleasant evening together, going to dinner and enjoying some light conversation. After dinner, I stayed up very late talking with Fr Bittemann, a wonderful priest, with whom I served at the Cathedral years ago right after he was ordained.

The next day, I had most of the day to myself. It was very nice. After dropping the bishop at the golf course, where he'd been invited by some parishioners of St. George Parish to play, I went on a nice hike on a lovely desert trail. It was the kind of alone time that is truly healing, not more unhealthy self-isolation. This was a time when my heart was more attuned to gratitude than resentment. I then joined the bishop, Fr Dillon, and the bishop's golfing partners for lunch.

After a post-lunch rest, we celebrated Confirmation for 85 young people. The Mass was a beautiful, bi-lingual celebration. The rather large church was full. The Confirmation Mass was followed by a very nice catered dinner. During my time at the dinner, I was able to speak with the deacons assigned to St. George and one of our aspirants to the diaconate who will be made a Candidate for the Sacrament of Orders by Bishop Solis this coming Saturday. I also met and spoke with several wonderful parishioners.

Arising early on Saturday morning, I drove the bishop to the small farming community of Milford, Utah. There, in St. Bridget's Church, we celebrated Confirmation for around 25 young people from the pastoral area. This large area consists of Milford, Delta, Fillmore, and Beaver. This local church is capably served by Fr. Marco Lopez, who is from El Salvador. He is a wonderful priest who serves his people very well. He is a very kind, gentle, and energetic pastor.

La misa celebrada en español. Tuve un buen opportunidad para practicar español con la gente amable de la parroquia. Once again, the Church was packed. After a wonderful lunch at the home of a very nice family, the bishop and I headed back south to Christ the King Parish in Cedar City. There we celebrated Confirmation, appropriately enough on the Vigil of Pentecost, for another roughly 30 young people.

Following the reception in Cedar City, I drove the bishop 250 miles back to Salt Lake City. I arrived home myself at about 12:45 AM. It was a lot of fun jamming to the music of Carlos Santana driving late at night with my bishop!

Why do I post all this? Well, it ties back to my starting point of how getting outside of myself often helps with what otherwise debilitates me. I realize this may sound like a cliché. But for those who are afflicted with what sometimes afflicts me, it is no easy thing to get outside of yourself. This is true even as I recognize that it would "probably" help. My bishop's call was a godsend. Serving my bishop and the wonderful people of our diocese for two-and-a-half straight days was such a privilege and so helpful to me.

In my experience, this is how God's grace works, that is, in ordinary and yet unexpected ways. My bishop's phone call came out of the blue! Having traveled like this with my bishop before, I was once again able to see how his life is almost totally dedicated to self-giving service. While he gets physically tired sometimes, he serves with such joy and fervor. He is a great example to me. Putting some physical distance between myself and my everyday life also helps me gain some perspective on my perceived troubles. Who knows? I may be able to preach again soon. We'll see how things go.

In addition to this post, I have another one coming this week. It will contain some interesting and exciting ecclesiastical news.

Regrouping- a post about blogging

Thus far 2023 has been slow here on Καθολικός διάκονος. The pace will not pick up until 1 June. Between now and then, for the eleven days following this, I am not going to post anything.

2 June is a Friday. On that day, I am going to resume our Friday traditio. On 4 June, I will resume posting reflections on the Sunday readings on the Sundays I don't preach and my homilies when I do. I will also resume posting the weekday homilies I prepare and deliver here and there. During the week, unless it is a solemnity, I usually preach on Mondays. Why Mondays? Because that is the one day of the week my parish celebrates daily Mass in the evening.

It is also my desire, starting in June, to post some thoughts on other matters in the church and in the world. It's funny, the thought of giving up blogging after more than 16 years is one I can't bring myself to take seriously. As Beckett wrote at the end of his novel The Unnamable: “ … you must go on. I can’t go on. I’ll go on.” Something like that.

I realize the halcyon days of blogging are over, I am oddly attached to this medium. I still take my cue from the now very outdated term weblog, of which blog is an abbreviation. What I find especially attractive is captured by Nick Barney in a piece describing blogs (see "What is a Blog?"): "a frequently updated web page used for personal commentary."

I can honestly say that there is nothing at all scientific about my approach to blogging. I just write and post what I write. My only means of dissemination are my own social media accounts (i.e., Facebook, Twitter, MeWe). I don't use analytics or employ strategies about how to increase readership, etc. In my early years of blogging, I wrote a lot. I also worried about whether or not people were interested in what I wrote. This drove me to tackle just about every disputed question about which I had view. It wasn't a bad exerise for me, even though once in awhile I look back and realize that my views have changed. In most cases, not completely but in important ways nonetheless. These days, I express myself more carefully, with far less certainty, and, hopefully, more generously.

After several years and a lot of posts, I started- to use a phrase I loathe- "to find my voice." I also realized that writing is a great way to help me understand what I think, explore questions more deeply, and grow. Once I realized that not just writing but writing publicly was a vehicle for growth, I was committed. Taking this view means not worrying too much about the number of people who read what I post. In short, I am not trying to impress anyone. I simply find value in thinking through things that interest me and sharing the results of that process.

So, far from being dead or even on its last legs, this little cyberspace will continue, at least for now and for the foreseeable future. One weird thing that's happened this week here on Blogger. Four comments that were made more than a decade ago suddenly showed up for me to review. Only one was spam. I wonder why that happened. This caused me to reflect for a moment on just how long I've been doing this. Of course, in the early days, before social media really took off, my blog was much more interactive.

As for me, I am in the process of recovering from a pretty devastating bout of depression. I tend to have one or two a year. As a result, I have pulled back from everything for a few days, preferring to stay at home. I wish I could write more honestly about what it's like, but I can't. I am not sure I ever will be able to do it. Trust me, I am under no illusion that I am a writer of any sort. Yet, I write!

What did I do? Well, Friday I melted down and finally fell asleep. Yesterday, I slept in, walked, and read the third of Philip Roth's so-called "Nemesis" novellas, The Humbling. I set out to read all four last year but I only made it through two: Everyman and Indignation. These short works were the last things Roth published before calling it quits. Nemesis, the final book, was published in 2010. Roth died in 2018. After that, I started reading the one John Cheever novel I have not read: Oh What a Paradise It Seems.

The Humbling, for those who've read it, may not seem like a great book to read for someone in my situation. Oddly enough, I found it helpful. I could go on about that but I won't. I am also finishing the late theologian James P. Mackey's The Critique of Theological Reason. Like most of Mackey's work, this important book from the first half of the first decade of this century was too overlooked. Maybe I will share some thoughts about and insights from the book.

When a homily is really a sermon: Mother's Day revisited

Someone asked where I draw the line between a homily and a Mother's Day Sermon. It's a fair enough question and one I am happy to answer. But before answering, I feel the need to point out the obvious. As indicated in my Integrity Notes, everything on this blog falls under the caveat "in my view." While, like everyone else, I share a view because I think it is more or less a correct one, I make no claims to infallibility.

Generally, what is supposed to be a homily becomes a sermon when it has nothing to do with the readings proclaimed or even when it renders the readings tangential by veering off onto other things. This is merely to state the difference between a sermon and a homily. This difference is something with which those of us charged with preaching should know. Bait and switch is usually the tactic employed.

It would be pretty hard to squeeze a Mother's Day homily out of the readings for the Sixth Sunday of Easter Year A of the Sunday lectionary. In these circumstances, the bait and swith usually happens by means of a transition, sometimes smooth and sometimes not. This is where the person preaching begins by addressing the readings, or an aspect of the readings, then transitions to something else s/he wants to talk about. In evaluating the preaching of prospective deacons, this is something I am pretty consistent about calling out and strict about discouraging.

Shouldn't we draw from life in our preaching? Only if you want your preaching to have some relevance. This is not the issue I am addressing and nothing I wrote contra Mother's Day sermons indicates otherwise.

Elsewhere, I made a comment about last Sunday's readings in which I said something about how lacking pneumatology often is Roman Catholic preaching and teaching. By contrast, our liturgical pneumatology is sublime. Being prima theologia, liturgy is a good place to start. Along these lines, I have one word: epiclesis. Last Sunday's readings provided a great opportunity to address, creatively, of course, the Holy Spirit: who the Spirit is, what the Spirit does in the divine economy, how the Spirit works, and why it even matters.

I will restate another issue with Mother's or Father's Day sermons: the cue concerning the family is not usually taken from the New Testament, at least not from Jesus or the authentically Pauline letters. "My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it" (Luke 8:21). The first sentence of the NABRE footnote to this verse states: "The family of Jesus is not constituted by physical relationship with him but by obedience to the word of God."

The paralell passage from Mark 3, lacking the background of Luke's Infancy Narrative, is more stark (see Mark 3:31-35). Of course, this, too, can and has been put to nefarious use. Our quick dismissal of this revealed reality causes all kinds of problems, certainly doctrinal and, more practically, in forming and sustaining Christian community, the Father's eschatological family. This also negatively impacts how the Church gets with the larger society.

Do last Sunday's readings present any possibility to bring up Mother's Day? While not claiming to have algorithmically analyzed every possible connection, one hook might be Paracletos, rendered "Advocate" in the NABRE. A paracletos is one who stands beside you, who literally takes your side. This is something good mothers certainly do. But this is easily rendered vapid by making recourse to a stereotype: the mom who takes her child's side even when her child is way off-base. So, in this vein, a mention here might not be out of line. But nobody's Mom, however sainted, is the Holy Spirit.

One also needs to be mindful of those for whom such observances are a bit painful for various reasons: wanting children but not being able to have them, not having a good experience with one's mother, to name perhaps the two most obvious. There is no issue with adding some intercessions to the Prayers of the Faithful appropriate for Mother's Day, which can also include prayers for those women who desire to be moms and healing for those who may have issues with their mothers. Another possibility is a blessing for mothers, which might include those who want to be moms, between the Prayer after Communion and the Dismissal.

I am not proposing ignoring Mother's Day altogether. But it is important to not make-up a Mass for Mother's Day.

Blogging, the Holy Spirit, deacons, and Mother's Day

Things here have been very dormant as of late. Life takes priority over blogging. Nonetheless, I miss writing posts. I have every intention of resuming. I even intend to resume posting more than homilies and reflections on Mass readings. I am taking a pass again this week, however.

The thing that strikes me about today's Gospel is what a deep pnuematology Jesus lays out in this snippet from John's Last Supper Discourse. It is a wonderful opportunity to unpack what it means to be Spirit-filled.

Speaking of Spirit-filled, after last week's reacing about the seven men called by the primitive Church in Jerusalem and set apart for service by the apostles, today picks up a thread of one of those seven: Philip. Remember, there were three criteria set forth for those called: men of good reputation and who were "filled with the Spirit and wisdom" (see Acts 6:3).

We only hear more about two of the seven: Stephen and Philip. Unlike Stephen, who was stoned to death Jerusalem, Philip fled the persecution and went to Samaria. Undaunted, he preached the Gospel, like Stephen. Many responded to his preaching by coming to faith in Christ. If you take these seven men as the first deacons, something done in the Church since at least Irenaeus, who lived from the second into the third century, then, from the beginning, deacons have been evangelists. Today this highlighted by the deacon reading the Gospel at Mass. In the absence of a deacon, a priest reads the Gospel at Mass as a deacon.

Without a doubt, today, many were subjected to a Mother's Day sermon instead of a homily. Oddly, this tends to happen in places where there is a lot of loud protesting about the Church capitulating to the culture. Well, Mother's Day is a secular observance. It's not on the liturgical calendar. Not many Christians in the U.S. conceive of family eschatologically, which stands in contrast to natural/biological family. God's eschatological family really couldn't be much clearer in the Gospels and in the authentically Pauline letters. At least in the U.S., Christians tend to make an idol of family. If not an idol, then settng forth an unrealistically idealized version of family.

I will content myself with a few thoughts barely sketched out today.

Year A Fourth Sunday of Easter

Readings: Acts 2:14a.36-41; Ps 23:1-6; 1 Peter 2:20b-25; John 10:1-10

“Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins.”¹ These days this exhortation is usually passed over in silence. Gospel, as we all know, means Good News. In addition to being timely and relevant, news conveys information. News tells you something.

What is the content of the Good News? Jesus suffered, died, rose on the third day, and sent his Holy Spirit as his presence in, among, and through us until he comes again. Our first reading today is from Acts 2. Its context is the first Christian Pentecost.

“Pentecost” is Greek. It means fifty days. For the Greek-speaking Jews of the Second Temple period, which was most Jews at that time, Pentecost referred to the Jewish feast of Shavuot. Shavuot is celebrated fifty days after the conclusion of Passover. This is why it is important to qualify it as “the first Christian Pentecost.” It is not the only or even the first Pentecost.

What the Jewish people celebrate during Shavuot is God giving the Torah to Moses on Mount Sinai. This is the single most important event in the history of Israel. Torah is what sets Israel apart from other nations and peoples. Torah is what them distinctively God's people.

By Jesus’ time, for some Jews, by no means all and maybe not even most, but certainly for the Pharisees with whom he disputed, observing Torah had become a matter of adhering to the 613 mitzvot. Meaning “word” in Hebrew, in the context of Torah, mitzvot means rules. Hence, one is a “good” Jew if s/he keeps all these rules, doing what these require and not doing what they forbid.

Before taking a dim view of this kind of religiosity, it’s important to note that for many Christians, Catholics seem particularly prone, this same mindset is evident. Faith becomes a matter of adherence to a set of rules: do this; don’t do that. This, it seems to me, is often quite accurately reflected in the routines of comedians who were raised Catholic. Bill Burr, an Irish Catholic from Boston, immediately to my mind.

In 1 Timothy, we learn “that the law is good, provided one uses it as law.”² What is meant in this deutero-Pauline letter by using the law as law? The law is used as law, according to this scripture, when it is understood “that law is meant not for the righteous person but for the lawless and unruly, the godless and sinful, the unholy and the profane,” etc.³ In short, God gave the law for sinners like you and me.

God gives the law, which, as Paul notes in Romans, is written on our hearts, to each person as a standard or measure of holiness.⁴ It is rightly used to show you how far short you fall when it comes to love of God and neighbor. It is misused when, despite one’s failures, it is applied to someone else, using this standard to judge them. The worst thing about this misuse is that one who does it put himself in God’s place.

In his letter to the church in Galatia, the apostle taught that the law is a schoolmaster to bring us to Christ. Then, once justified through repentance and belief, you no longer need a schoolmaster because, according to Paul, “through faith you are all children of God in Christ Jesus.”⁵

Here is the law given on the first Christian Pentecost: repent and be baptized in Jesus’ name and your sins will be forgiven. All that remains, as indicated in our passage from the Acts of the Apostles, is to accept or reject this Good News.

What about sins I commit after baptism? We have the sacrament of penance, which is an extension of the sacrament of baptism. Because the name of God is mercy, God makes provision for our weakness, our inability, our stubbornness, and our struggles.

Being baptized and forgiven should mark a turning point in your life. Your life after baptism should look different than your life before baptism. Why? Because through Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, you have been forgiven! Baptism, as we witnessed so powerfully at the Easter Vigil, is your liberation from bondage to Pharoah.

Our reading from 1 Peter says- “If you are patient when you suffer for doing what is good, this is a grace before God.”⁶ More than a grace before God, this passage goes on to say, this is our baptismal vocation.⁷ Your vocation consists of becoming more and more like Jesus. Contrary to those who preach the so-called “Prosperity Gospel,” being a Christian is not about living your best life now, being healthy, wealthy, and very good-looking.

The Fourth Sunday of Easter, for obvious reasons, is Good Shepherd Sunday. As such, it is World Vocations Day. As mentioned, if you’re baptized, you’re called. You are not called generically. You are called by name. When you're baptized, the celebrant doesn't say "I baptize you..." No, rather, you are called by name and then baptized. As Pope Saint John Paul II taught: as Christians, we have one vocation: follow Christ. Then the question becomes how does the Lord call you to follow him? In what state of life do you live your Christian vocation? Priesthood, religious life, either in a contemplative or active order, through the sacrament of matrimony, as a single person, or, who knows, maybe even as a deacon.

Jesus Christ is the gate to the Kingdom of God. You enter God’s kingdom through the cross of Christ. Anyone who enters God’s kingdom does so through him in some way, even if that way is hidden and mysterious, known to God alone.

As our Lord tells the Pharisees in today’s Gospel: “I came so that they [his followers- us] might have life and have it more abundantly.”⁸ My friends, worldly success is fleeting, even when it lasts until death, and you live to be a hundred. Following Jesus is the path to true glory.

On this glorious Easter Day, taking our cue from Saint Peter, let us hearken back to Ash Wednesday, when, as we received ashes, and were invited to “Repent, and believe in the Gospel.”⁹

---

1 Acts 2:38.^↩
2 1 Timothy 1:8.^↩
3 1 Timothy 1:9.^↩
4 Romans 2:15.^↩
5 Galatians 3:24-26. ^↩
6 1 Peter 2:20.^↩
7 1 Peter 2:21.^↩
8 John 10:10.^↩
9 Roman Missal. Ash Wednesday.^↩

Not seeing is believing

Readings: Acts 2:42-47; Ps 118:2-4.13-15.22-24; 1 Peter 1:3-9; John 20:19-31

Today's reflection is a sketch, not a full-blown "take" on the readings for this Second Sunday of Easter. This is so I can try to cover way too much ground.

It is important to note that John's Gospel was likely written in the last decade of the first century. This places it 50+ years after Jesus' passion, death, and resurrection. It also bears noting that the written Gospels took the forms in which we now possess them only after eyewitnesses of things these texts seek to hand on began to die. In other words, these are not, at least not in their entirety, firsthand accounts of what they convey

The inspired author places both of the risen Jesus' post-resurrection appearances on the first day of the week, the Lord's Day, Sunday. This is the day that Christians gather to open the word and to break the bread. So, the context of these appearances is the Eucharist.

Since the sacrament of penance is seen to flow from the risen Lord breathing on the twelve and entrusting them with the forgiveness of sins, one can make a connection between penance and Eucharist. Of course, penance is an extension of the baptism. Since the Eucharist is the font, the other six sacraments flow out from and back into it.

Thinking again about what section seven of Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Second Vatican's Council Dogmatic Constitution of the Sacred Liturgy, sets forth about Christ's real presence, it is necessary to highlight that he is really present in the assembly of the baptized.

Notice that Thomas was not present in the assembly the first time Christ appeared. Hence, Thomas "missed" him. But he encountered the Risen One when, the very next week, he was present.

It's interesting that while Jesus invites Thomas to touch the wounds in his hands and even to place his in hand in his side, the Gospel does not tell us that he did so. Certainly, Thomas saw, but did he then feel the need to touch? Resurrection transcends sensory perception. It is not empirically or scientifically demonstrable. It is something, to quote U2, "that has to be believed to be seen." It is a matter of faith.

Faith is not knowledge. And so, the opposite of faith is not doubt. The opposite of faith is certainty. The central point of today's readings is not only believing in Jesus risen from the dead but loving him without seeing him. A strong belief that you can make arguments in favor of is not knowledge.

Getting back to real presence, we, too, have a real encounter with the risen Lord by participating in the Eucharist. A real encounter, however, is not an immediate encounter. Being sacramental, our encounter with the risen Christ in and through the Eucharist happens mysteriously through the assembly, in the person of the priest, in the proclamation of the scriptures, and under the aspects of bread and wine. It is a mediated encounter, made real by the symbols and signs through which his presence is mediated.

Blessed are those who believe and do not see Jesus risen from the dead, those who do not see him but who love him. What does this look like? Well, our reading from Acts sets this forth, even if in a very idealistic way. Our first reading gives us a glimpse of an assembly of the redeemed, those who love Christ by loving each other and loving their neighbor, seeing him in them, especially in the poor, the outcast, and the neglected.

One final note about suffering: even after his rising from the dead, Jesus continues to bear the wounds of crucifixion. One can say that he is recognizable, as Thomas indicates, by his wounds. As I keep pointing out, keep in mind that it was Thomas who said, as the Lord set out for Judea, where he was in danger of being put to death and where he was, in fact, killed, after the death of his friend Lazarus, "Let us also go to die with him" (John 11:16). It seems that Thomas knew what it was to die with Christ but, like Peter and John in our Gospel for Easter day, "did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead" (John 20:9).

Like all facts, the "fact," such as it is, of resurrection does not convey a meaning in and of itself. "Fact," as the scare quotes indicates, is not a good way to describe or to think about the resurrection because it diminishes its power by making it a fact alongside all the other facts in the world, reducing it to a discrete and static thing that happened a long time ago in a land far away instead of the dynamic mode of Christian life it is and is meant to be. But Thomas gives a profound explanation of its meaning when he says "My Lord and my God" (John 20:28).