23rd April, 2006

WHEN IN ROME ….

It’s hard to believe that a week has passed since we celebrated the ceremonies of Holy Week. Congratulations on the wonderful turn-out for all the celebrations, and apologies to those subjected to all the smoke on Saturday night. I promise, the problem has already been sorted out in preparation for next year. I trust you have had an opportunity to relax a little during this past week, either in Paris, or elsewhere.

For myself, I had to spend a couple of days in Rome, as a member of a group within the Passionists who were asked to look at and make recommendations in regard to the maintenance and development of our mother house. As Italian was the common language of the most of those involved, I had to avail of the services of one of our Indian priests, who had studied in Rome, as an interpreter.

Two things in particular I learnt. Firstly, I’m much better at French than I generally give myself credit for – I found I was constantly replying in French rather than Italian, or even English – ‘oui’ seemed to come more naturally than ‘si’ or ‘yes’! Am I making a break-through? And secondly, there is no hope that I’ll ever learn Italian. Where my instinct would be to say ‘si’, it seems it’s essential that one uses at least two thousand five hundred and seventy words to convey the same message, while at the same time doing an over-the-top impression of a windmill in a constantly shifting hurricane.

But I’ve always liked Rome as a place to visit. On the one hand it tends to be very alive, while on the other there is a great sense of history about the place. Our house is within yards of the Coliseum, with the Forum just across the road. Even with the crowds of tourists, and the souvenir stalls, I find myself transported back to another world, where life was more basic, and fragile.

There’s nothing fragile about the life that has been offered to us through the Resurrection – it is a life offered with the power and strength of God’s love behind it. Where the fragility comes in is in our ability to accept it, to trust in it, to live it to the full. It was that acceptance and trust that was lacking in the disciples in the days after Jesus’ death.

Thomas, in our gospel today, is simply putting into words the feelings of many at the time, and many more down the generations since. We demand a level of proof that assumes that our relatively puny minds are capable of grasping the eternal truth of the extent of God’s love for us. One feels for Thomas – he desperately wants to believe, but he can’t bring himself to it. He is waiting for Jesus’ ‘Give me your hand’. All that asked of us is to say ‘yes’, ‘si’ or ‘oui’ – He understands!