Doesn't it give you heart to know that, even with all they have come through, and all that Jesus has done to assure them of who he is, some of the disciples continued to struggle with doubt?
Even after following him for years, learning from him, witnessing miracles of healing and resurrection, even after receiving the Spirit of peace from Jesus’ own breath, even after they too have been called to follow in his steps, commissioned to forgive and teach all they have learned, even then, some continue to doubt.
Even after following him for years, learning from him, witnessing miracles of healing and resurrection, even after receiving the Spirit of peace from Jesus’ own breath, even after they too have been called to follow in his steps, commissioned to forgive and teach all they have learned, even then, some continue to doubt.
Now, having gone to the mountain to which he has directed them, they see him and worship him . . . and even so, they doubt. What a comfort these words can be for us. These are no super hero disciples. These are the ordinary faithful, folks among whom we, too, can find our place. Among these stumblers and mumblers we, too, can belong. This imperfect circle has room for our own imperfection, our own questions, space enough for both belief and lack of belief.
It is what it is. Some of us doubt. And what does Jesus do? Does he recoil in anger, utterly disappointed? Does he go in search of different disciples? No, he just keeps handing out assignments.
True to form, Jesus keeps calling us to our full capacity, coaxing forth a new kind of community, composed of both darers and doubters, the bashful and the bold. Fully human, as well as fully immersed in the Spirit that is Holy, his way of community can hold all that we are.
If Jesus can accept as his own those who have trouble believing, can we not accept ourselves and each other, regardless of our limitations and liabilities? Can we not answer yes to being both learners and teachers of this radical way of acceptance, following the one who has room even for our doubts?
True to form, Jesus keeps calling us to our full capacity, coaxing forth a new kind of community, composed of both darers and doubters, the bashful and the bold. Fully human, as well as fully immersed in the Spirit that is Holy, his way of community can hold all that we are.
If Jesus can accept as his own those who have trouble believing, can we not accept ourselves and each other, regardless of our limitations and liabilities? Can we not answer yes to being both learners and teachers of this radical way of acceptance, following the one who has room even for our doubts?
