Jesus has a keen interest in proving that He is not a ghost. That is why He remains to eat with his disciples after the Resurrection, in addition to meriting the condition of dining room and drinker of him, that prestige must be taken care of. That is also why he shows his sores like jewels.
He flatly refuses to be considered an ethereal ectoplasm. And Thomas makes it easy for him, with his incredulity, which Jesus thanks and, in practice, rewards. He liked that Tomás says that he needs to touch his wounds and put his hand in his side. Tomás is not for ghosts or illusions or the parapsychic either. In Visions and comments, Unamunove and comments that Jesus gives his time to Tomás: eight days; but I would say that he buys the method. “Great: then put your hands in my sores,” he tells her, no less. No metaphors or hyperboles.
With that he establishes two subconscious relationships. His wounds are associated with a lack of faith, because if the Pharisees and the people had believed in Him, it would not have happened. In the gesture, so tremendous that it is demanded of Tomás, there is, of course, a penance for his doubt, but also a prize, because touching Christ (remember the hemorrhoid) is a privilege. An award for not having given the minimum margin to the ghostly option.
It is impossible for the glorious Body of Jesus to hurt that touch of Thomas, trembling and delicate. But since he is not a ghost, it is impossible that he did not have a physical, material consequence. Didn’t it have to tickle him, in addition to the relief, like when you caress a fresh scar?
…they saw some embers prepared…
Emmanuel Carrère focuses on a hilarious detail of Pedro in this scene. The apostles are fishing (trying to, because “they caught nothing that night”). From the shore a stranger asks them for something to eat and, since they don’t have anything to give him, he tells them to cast the net to the right. How much have the disciples gained in humility, because this time they throw it away without saying a word, without excuses or delays!
Jesu s’ humor is silent again: gestural; works and jokes are love, and not so many reasons
Since they fish so much, they deduce —specifically John, the beloved disciple deduces— that the man on the shore can only be the Lord. Here comes Carrèrre’s gloss: “It is the Lord”, repeats Pedro, “astonished, and then he does something enchanting, something that Buster Keaton could have done: he puts on his tunic, since he was naked, and jumps into the water dressed”.
It’s pure Keaton, of course, but also an acknowledgment of the majesty of the Lord, before which one cannot appear naked or in fatigues. I don’t know if this scene has been used as an authoritative argument to defend the best liturgical clothing, but it should.
Jesu s’ humor is silent again: gestural. Works and jokes are love, and not so many reasons. It turns out that whoever had asked them for “something to eat” already had some coals prepared, a fish placed on top and bread. “Then, why were you asking?” the apostles might have wondered, hands on hips, but they didn’t because, by now, they knew him very well and knew well that he asks in order to give.
When they had eaten…
The risen Jesus eats grilled fish for breakfast, sits at the table with those of Emmaus, and eats here and there. If the Pharisees saw him, they would call him a “glutton” with a new fear. It is not an isolated case. Within the limited experience we have as resurrected, it turns out that the first thing Jairo’s daughter had to do was give her something to eat. And the next appearance of Lazarus after his resurrection is at dinner: “Jesus, six days before Easter, went to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus raised from the dead. There they prepared a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those who were at table with him” (Jn 12, 1-2).
