As we spend the next several weeks celebrating the resurrection of Jesus, I think most focus on the resurrection itself and less on the body. Now that the painful Passion is behind us, we can bathe in the love and immortality that God bestows on those who believe in His Son. But there is still a body to contend with; how do we understand the risen form of Jesus?
The Gospel of John presents two very different approaches to the resurrected Christ. The first account is of Mary Magdalene who upon recognizing Jesus embraced His feet. His response to her was “Stop holding on to me… .” (John 20:17) It seems a curious address to someone whom He loved. Jesus’ resurrected body, however, was not destined to stay on earth, but rather to return to God, the Father. The message He was conveying to Mary indicated that she should not expect for Him to remain. Jesus rose from the dead to illustrate that death was no longer a punishment, and it was just one part of His mission to reconnect humanity with God.
The second account in John’s Gospel is that of Thomas. (John 20:24-29) Most focus on “doubting Thomas” refusing to believe in the resurrection. Had he not seen Lazarus be returned from the dead at the words of Jesus? Why was it so hard for him to believe? Yet Jesus invites him to probe his wounds. For Mary Magdalene, she was to stop holding onto Jesus, but Thomas was invited to put his fingers in the nail holes and his hand in the side of Jesus that was pierced by the spear. While I feel sorry for Thomas to forever be remembered as someone who doubted Jesus, it is a powerful witness. If even those closest to Jesus had to slowly process the resurrection, it’s okay for those of us now who stumble with some of the facets of faith. When we have these times of doubt, we need to turn more to Jesus and ask Him to help us in our unbelief.
I think many want to believe that when we are resurrected, all our imperfections will be removed. Yet Jesus retained the wounds of His Passion. They may not have bled any longer, or were a source of pain, but they were still present. How is this possible? I’d like to think of it as a spiritual version of kintsugi, a Japanese technique of repairing broken objects with gold lacquer. Most of us, if we have something broken, want to hide the repair as much as possible. But in this repair process, the gold becomes the star of the show. What was once broken can now be used again, and it is beautiful because of the brokenness. Like Jesus, our wounds —physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual — will be healed through Him with a beauty that we cannot conceive. Any thoughts of what we may look like resurrected can only be a product of our limited imagination.
At each Mass we are called to encounter the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus when we receive the Holy Eucharist. It is a celebration of the Incarnation of Jesus as a human person from the moment of His conception and birth as well as His full divine nature of being the Son of God. While the outward appearance of bread and wine remain, the substance is forever transformed into the being of Jesus for us to receive. Here again the priest breaks the host, mingling a piece in the wine before offering to the congregation. While it may seem that Jesus’ body is divided amongst those who receive Him, in a spiritual perspective, we are the gold lacquer that brings His body together when we receive Him and then follow the promptings of the Holy Spirit to do the Father’s will. We bring beauty to Jesus on the cross when we share the love of God with others. And we can only do that when we offer our brokenness to God to heal.
“But he was pierced for our sins, crushed for our iniquity. He bore the punishment that makes us whole, by his wounds we were healed.”
Isaiah 53:5




