Monday, Fourth Week of Advent
Reflection by Joel Klein
Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with the other disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
Do I believe in God? I don't remember a time when I would have answered anything other than yes. I've got a letter thanking my grandfather for his 25 years of service on the vestry and pictures of my grandmother leading the children's choir at Holy Cross Episcopal Church in Brooklyn, NY. My father was an acolyte… Karen and our two children were all baptized by our Father Bob Brown when he was our priest here at St. Michael's, back in the 70's.
To clarify, let me call my belief an intellectual belief for much of this time. I could stop and think;: yes I believe in God, I believe Jesus is his son, born of a woman, here to prove man could live without sin, to instruct and guide us and to lead us in the hereafter…
Last spring I suffered a horrific accident. Bad enough to be a “guest” of Harborview's trauma center for a full week. One night, lying in bed, I was reflecting on all the family and friends that had contacted Karen and/or me to say they were praying for me. It occurred to me that so many were from Saint Michael's and that I also knew — from some that contacted us ' that there were many others also praying for me. As I pondered my recent past, the present (between operations) and future in light of all the prayers on my behalf I felt a palpable buoying up of myself, as though lifted on the hands of all those praying for me. It was as though I was, without words, being told, “It will be okay. Don’t fear.” This was a visceral, palpable, wordless experiencing of God's love FAR beyond any intellectual belief I had ever experienced.
In his latter years I recall my father saying, “I'd feel much better about dying if I could talk with someone who's been there.” This was his way of expressing his intellectual belief in God at that time. I can now truly say: I “…have not seen and yet have come to believe.”