Wounded – Easter II, 10 April 2015

Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you.” [John 20:19-21]

“Shalom aleichem” (שלום עליכם) is what he said, in Hebrew.  It is to this day the common Hebrew greeting.  Peace be upon you.  No doubt it’s often said routinely and without much thought – rather like “How are you…?” in our day (or in the supermarket, “How’s your day been so far…?”)  But on this occasion, when Jesus comes and stands among them, I would think that “Peace be with you” is very deeply meant.  Shalom, as we have often said, is much more than the absence of conflict, although that, to these people, would have been precious enough.  Shalom means health and well-being, justice and a sense of rightness. 

Then we learn that any doubt they may have had about whether this really is Jesus, who had been put to death, is resolved because his wounds remained.  They saw his wounds.  It could only be him.   It fascinates me that their recognition of him was not the usual way, the way we recognise anyone, from memory and their facial features and voice and so on.  John insists that it was primarily that they saw his wounds.  This is the same passage in which we then get the story of Thomas, who needed to be convinced in just that way – he was invited actually to touch Jesus’s wounds. 

So there is a meaning here, something important for us to understand about resurrection and new life.  I am reminded of the Ascension hymn, Crown Him With Many Crowns, which has the words: 

Rich wounds, yet visible above,

In beauty glorified…

But that seems to me an attempt to sugar-coat something important which John Is trying to teach us.  Jesus’s wounds remained.  They were not suddenly sweet-smelling and surrounded by flowers.  They were wounds and they hurt.   You simply can’t bring a literal mind to any of this, and require everything to be explained.  This is mystery.  Mystery is part of the deepest truth, and mystery becomes an old friend to contemplative people. 

What is clear here is that the Risen Lord is still wounded and hurting.  It is as though anyone who expects faith to make them safe and solve all their pains is out of luck.  Resurrection life is subtler and richer than that.  We bear our wounds, our memories, our failures, our injuries.  The difference is now that we have found there is no need to be afraid, we have encountered unconditional love and life.  The wounded Jesus, sharing and bearing our human brokenness, frailty, vulnerability and woundedness, comes and says, Shalom aleichem – Peace be with you!