Homily at the Sion Community BELOVED retreat on Divine Mercy Sunday.
Let’s talk about doubt.
I have a confession to make. There are days in my life when I find myself wondering if it’s really true. Did Jesus actually rise from the dead? Is he in heaven right now, listening to my prayers? Are all the sacrifices involved in living as a faithful Christian, let alone as a priest, really worth it?
On days like that, I need to remind myself of a few things that I cannot doubt.
I cannot doubt that I have had moments in prayer when I have sensed God drawing close to me, though not for a long time now.
I cannot doubt that nearly 30 years ago, I surrendered my life to the Holy Spirit and experienced a new way of praying [the gift of tongues], which has remained with me ever since.
I cannot doubt that I know people who have personally experienced or received miracles of healing, though I’ve never seen God perform a visible miracle with my own eyes.
And yet I am still tempted to doubt. In fact, that’s the oldest temptation in the Bible! The Book of Genesis begins with the serpent sowing doubt – did God really say you couldn’t eat of the tree of knowledge?
Perhaps you’re struggling with similar questions. Is it really true that Jesus rose from the dead? Is it really true that he loves you and desires you to be his bride, wedded to him for eternity? Is it true that you are beautiful in his sight, that you can stand in your presence without shame, and that He longs to forgive all your sins for the asking?
We doubt because we have intellectual questions about God – if he loves us, why is the world in such a mess?
We doubt because we have mixed feelings about God – does he really love me personally when my life is such a mess?
We doubt because we’ve heard the rumours, but we can’t see the Lord of life with our own eyes – just like St Thomas during that first week after the crazy message began to circulate about Jesus rising from the dead. Like Thomas, we haven’t seen the risen Jesus. Like him, we experience a mixture of faith and doubt.
Some of us have only the experiences of others as the foundation of our faith. Perhaps we were raised in a Christian family. Or perhaps we met Christians who gave powerful testimonies of knowing God’s nearness. There are times when that hope is enough – like the people in the crowds who longed for even something as flimsy as the shade of Peter’s shadow, knowing it could bring a touch from the Divine.
There was a time in my life, 30 years ago, when I was struggling with whether to accept Jesus as Lord of my life. Could I trust him? Might he ask me to do something I didn’t want to do? I was on retreat, and I gave some time to wrestle with this. For me, the answer came through reasoning. Did I believe that God was smarter than me? Yes – so that was a strong reason to trust his judgment. Did I believe that God loved me? Everything in the Bible screamed out that I had a Father who loved me so much he sent his own Son who freely chose to die on a Cross so my sin could be forgiven. The logic was inescapable. If God loved me that much, and knew what was best for me, I could trust Him. I surrendered. I asked him to be Lord of my whole life and show me what to do after University. That wasn’t the day I got my priestly calling – in fact God led me to work in various universities for the next 5 years – but it was a key step in my journey.
For some of us, it comes in a moment of clear reason. For others, it comes in the form of an intense moment of prayer. But God will win our trust through drawing close to us somehow. Most of us won’t experience anything like St Thomas; few are blessed to see the Risen Lord with their earthly eyes. This is why the Lord reminds us: “Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe.”
However that clarity came to us, we need to hold on to it in our darker moments. If you are familiar with C. S. Lewis’s Narnia chronicles you might remember the terrible phrase in the later books – “Susan was no longer a friend of Narnia”. A woman who had once believed in God had let her faith slip to take on the values of the world around her, pursuing fashion and fickle friendships.
Thomas too might have fallen away; his anguish was what any one of us might cry out in a dark time – “Lord, unless I can touch you, I can’t believe you’re really there.”
Thomas got his wish.
I wonder how Thomas felt in that moment. He was carrying a mixture of fear and love, doubt and hope. He had doubted whether Jesus remembered and cared for him personally. He had doubted the testimony of his friends, that Christ was risen. But now, undeniably, Jesus had not only remembered him, but had noticed his doubt and his pain. Thomas’ reward for his loyalty was to be written into history as the one man to stand for all of us who know that same painful mixture of doubt and hope.
On this Sunday we also remember that Jesus appeared to St Faustina Kowalska in the 20th century, to show his Divine Mercy. “Paint an image of me with two rays streaming from my breast: the water of baptism and the blood of communion. On the Sunday after Easter, honour this image, saying, ‘Jesus, I trust in you.’” Trust is the antidote to doubt. To trust, we need to avoid overestimating what God would do for us, otherwise we’ll wrongly blame God for failing to do what God never promised. But equally we must not underestimate God, who often chooses to leave us in darkness for a time until we have own own “Thomas moment”, however it comes.
You won’t find promises of a trouble-free life in the Bible. You will find promises that God will walk with us through the darkness. When we say, “Jesus, I trust in you,” what we mean is: “Jesus, I will follow your commands even when times are hard; I know you walk with me through the darkness.” Thomas and the other apostles knew the darkness of facing the Death of Jesus, yet they were sent as messengers of hope to the whole world! So yes, acknowledge doubt but choose to trust. Recognise doubt. D. O. U. B. T. : Don’t Overestimate, Underestimate, But Trust. “Doubt no longer but believe.” Put your trust in your beloved, for he has already placed his trust in you.