My son is the world’s most inquisitive observer and its biggest skeptic.
He is perpetually certain that his questions will collapse centuries-old arguments. How could that happen? How can this be true? What about this thing I read recently that directly contradicts it?
When frustration tempts me to throw up my hands, I remember that 1) God made him this way on purpose, and 2) the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
I am also a lifelong skeptic. I almost didn’t join the Church because I wasn’t certain I could give full intellectual assent to every teaching of the faith. Growing up has mellowed me somewhat, but my reflexive doubt runs deep.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus’ eleven closest companions met Him on the mountain. They saw Him. They worshiped Him . . . but they doubted. (Matthew 28:17)
(How could these guys, after all they had seen and been through with Jesus, have doubts? Not just Thomas with his reputation for skepticism, but the whole group in general?)
Instead of lecturing them about how little faith they had, Jesus laid out the only fact that mattered: “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” (Matthew 28:18)
What didn’t He say next? “I see you have some questions; let’s research the answers together.” Or “You seem unconvinced—care to share your concerns?” Or “Let’s adjourn until later so you can put all your doubts to rest.”
He laid it out clearly—go and make disciples. Baptize them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Teach them the faith.
Our baptism in the name of the Trinity marks us for life as Jesus’ disciples. We don’t have to know everything. Jesus isn’t threatened by our doubts, but what He expects of us doesn’t change.
Today is Trinity Sunday. The mystery of One God in Three Persons is at the core of our faith. Despite a lifetime of pondering, I’m not sure I will completely understand until I stand before that triune God, face to face. Until then, I love the prayer from Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity that begins:
“O my God, Trinity whom I adore, help me to forget myself entirely that I may be established in You as still and as peaceful as if my soul were already in eternity. May nothing trouble my peace or make me leave You, O my Unchanging One, but may each minute carry me further into the depths of Your Mystery.” (source)[Tweet “We don’t have to know everything. Jesus isn’t threatened by our doubts. // @dere_abbey”]
Will you pray this prayer with me today, sister?
Abbey Dupuy is the Assistant Theological Editor for Blessed is She and writes her life as a homeschooling mama of four frequently barefoot children. She muses about imperfect parenting, practicing gratitude, and celebrating the liturgical year with her young family on her blog. In her spare time, she enjoys running, gardening, coffee, and cookbooks, not usually at at the same time. You can find out more about her here.