Does God want grandkids?  It is one of those sayings that I heard first in a talk, then read it in a reflection, then heard it again from another source.  It kept finding its way in to my prayer this week as I reflected on the readings.  I never think I really understood what they were getting at in that phrase: “God has no Grandchildren.”  What in the world is that supposed to mean?  Aren’t grandkids one of the few perks of parenting?  -All the bonus, none of the onus.  You can spoil them rotten, just love them to death, get them all riled up with candy and ice cream their parents don’t want them to eat – and then drop them back off with mom and dad at the end of the weekend.  No grandkids?  Isn’t that one of the best parts?   

And here is where the image of Thomas began to unwrap the meaning of that phrase for me.  “If God does not want grandchildren, then what does he want?  Asked that way, a path of understanding begins to open up.  God wants CHILDREN – sons and daughters.  He wants direct followers of him, not people who put a median level in between.  And then I began to realize how easy it is for me to become just that - a grandchild of God.  I can let my prayer become ‘second hand.’  I can trust in the inspiration of homily resources instead of my own work and prayer and reflection.  Being God’s children can be a bit too close for comfort, demand a bit more than we want to acknowledge or address.  My dad was a much more demanding figure in my life than my grandparents.  (As an aside, why do Grandparents and Grandkids get along so well?  They share a common enemy.) God does not want grandchildren in the faith.  Rather, he wants free sons and daughters.  This is what Thomas knew in his heart of hearts.   

You see, for Thomas, it was not enough to ‘hear about the resurrection’.  He didn’t want to listen to the stories of things that happened to other people. Rather, he wanted to experience JESUS himself.  HE wanted the experience of the Risen Lord appearing to him, allowing him to touch him, to hug him, to hear his voice and see his face, not someone else’s second hand experience.  Thomas just cannot ‘catch faith’ like picking up gently used wardrobe at Goodwill or Caritas.    He can’t just check his brain at the door.  There will be no second hand faith for Thomas.  He will either believe in Jesus because he has seen him with his own eyes, and experienced him with his own heart, or he will walk away from it all.  He will not be God’s grandkid.  

And watch what Jesus does.  He doesn’t chide Thomas, doesn’t yell at him or take him to task for needing the same ‘proof’ that was given the other disciples that first Easter Morning.  Rather, he meets him right where Thomas demands of him – with the physical proof – “take you fingers, put them into my hands.  Put your hand into my side.”  And when the divine mercy met Thomas right at his darkest doubt and deepest fear, what comes forth is the greatest confession of faith that any of the disciples made anywhere or anytime:  My LORD and MY GOD.  My own eyes have seen, my own heart believes.  NOW I know, says Thomas.  Now I don’t have to be a grandchild – but a son.   

Then, because Jesus knew that ‘God wants no grandkids’, he says to us – “Blessed are those eyes that have not seen, but have believed.”  That is OUR invitation to become God’s children.  It is Jesus’ invitation to become God’s heirs and not just inheritors of second hand faith and second hand relationship. 

So of the many ways to pray into this gospel this divine mercy Sunday, let me suggest two: 

1) The first is to ask the question in prayer – have I behaved more like a son or a grandkid in my relationship with God?  Have I been brother/sister to Jesus in such a way as to call God my Father, or have I just ‘drifted along’ in my relationship with God? 

2) If, like Thomas, and like many people throughout the ages, you find yourself struggling with issues of doubt and fear and faith, then sit down and draw up your own “Thomas Litmus Test.”  Thomas needed to see the Lord’s hands and side.  Perhaps you need to experience Jesus’ compassion in a sickness, an easing of grief in the midst of loss, or a lightening of a burden that you have carried for a long time.  In your prayer, ask for these things, in very concrete ways… 

God wants no grandkids.  I think I understand that a bit more in my head these days.  Now comes the hard part – living that in my life – in my prayer and my love and my service of God…  May we draw strength from the example of Thomas – and say with him by our living:  My Lord and My God…