FAITH AND DOUBT

We are a people of faith. We are also a people filled with doubts about that faith. The doubter never expects to receive anything because the doubter doubts that anything he desires will be his. His life is one of negativity. The person of faith, on the other hand, expects his desires to be filled even though he knows that not all of them will be. His life is one of positivity.

There is a further difference. The doubter wants his will to be done but believes it will not be done because his faith is not what it should be. The person of faith wants God’s will to be done even as she prays that her will becomes God’s will and even as she knows that her faith is not all that it could be. The person of faith can live with her personal desires unfulfilled because she knows God knows what is best for her. The doubter lives with the belief that his desires will be unfulfilled because he doesn’t know if God really cares about him.

We all have doubts, of course. Such is the nature of faith. Faith is never knowledge and, thus, never certain. We may live in sure and certain hope but not in sure and certain faith. We are always growing in faith, little by little, each day. We certainly hope so, do we not?

That growth is usually imperceptible but it is real and can only be realized over time when looking back. I know my faith is stronger today than it was five years ago and maybe stronger than it was five days ago. But I can recognize the growth over five years but not over five days.

Yet, because of the nature of faith, certainly the nature of my faith, and, I suspect, yours, there is always that nagging doubt that hovers around the fringes. It kicks in often when we least except it, asking us if we truly believe what we say we believe, if we truly trust in this God whom we say we trust. It does not shake our faith; it simply gives it a little prick, but one that is felt.

When we think about it, doubt is good, is a good. It reminds us that even if we have a very strong, a sure and certain faith, we cannot take it for granted. We must always examine it, try to understand it, grow in it. When those trials of any kind arise, we know we should rejoice because they are an occasion to put our faith to the test, to put it to work. When we have passed through the fire, singed perhaps, but still safe, we can look back and see how our faith got us through and how it grew in the process.

That is not to say that we look for occasions to be tried and tested. We are not that foolish. But we are wise enough to know that they will come our way, especially when we least expect them to. We need to be ready and wise at all times.

Even more importantly, we need to be thankful for that gift of faith and, even more, for the times that faith is put to the test because that faith gives us the confidence that knows God will see us through.

"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH THEM?"

At the end of John’s Gospel Jesus appeared to his disciples who had gathered in that upper room because they were afraid of what might happen to them as followers of Jesus. They believed that the Jewish authorities who had had Jesus executed would now come after them and demand the same punishment. So they locked the doors and waited to see what would happen next.

What happened next was that Jesus suddenly appeared in the room and wished them peace, peace of mind and peace of heart. Then, according to John, he told them he was sending them off to be his disciples just as God the Father had sent him. Then he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” (John 20:21-23)

In other words, Jesus is giving his followers the power to forgive sins – his followers, those who believe in him, you and me. We can forgive the sins of those who have sinned against us. We don’t have to, of course, just as Jesus said. Sometimes we don’t. And sometimes, probably more often than not, even when we do forgive, it is not easy to do so. In fact, the only way we can forgive someone who has selfishly hurt us, sinned against us, is through the power and strength of the Holy Spirit.

That power and strength is always there to be accepted and utilized – or not. The choice is ours. We have that freedom. Over the years we have used it and we have rejected it. What I find telling about this ability to forgive or not forgive are Jesus’ words in another translation of the Bible, Eugene Peterson’s The Message. Thus, “If you forgive someone’s sins, they’re gone for good. If you don’t forgive, what are you going to do with them?”

That is the question, is it not: What are we going to do with all those sins that we refuse to forgive? Well, what we do do with them is hold onto them. We all have over the years, and I dare say we are all holding on to some of those past sins even today. We have not forgiven and are still not ready to forgive; and until we do forgive, we hold on to them. They weigh us down and hold us back. They are a burden and they become more and more of a burden the longer we hold on to them.

It is not easy to forgive someone who has deliberately hurt us, for all sins are deliberate. The other knew what s/he was doing when s/he said or did whatever it was to hurt us in whatever way we were hurt. For us to forgive that deliberate hurt is very, very difficult. The greater the hurt, the greater the difficulty in forgiving. It can’t be done unless we want to forgive and unless we allow the strength of the Holy Spirit fill us with the ability to do so.

The choice is always ours: we can hold on to the sins others have committed against us or we can unburden ourselves, forgive and move on with our lives, freed from the heavy load those sins truly are. The heavier the load, the more difficult life is. The lighter the load, the easier it becomes. What are we doing with those sins?

VESSELS OF CLAY

Back in the dark Ages when I was in seminary (1957-1969: high school, college and theology), every day from 12:00 noon to12:15 there was a time set aside for what was called “Spiritual Reading”. If our Spiritual Director did not have a meditation for us to ponder before lunch, one of the students read from a spiritual book that was to give us some food for thought.

The only book I can remember anything about from all those years was one that was read when I was in high school. It was written by a priest, Leo Trese, and was called Vessels of Clay. The point of the book was that even though priests were, by their vocation, to be role models for the people they were called to serve and even though this was a tremendous responsibility, anyone aspiring to become a priest needed to be reminded that he (always and only he back then and still now in the RC Church) was still a very fallible and fragile person – a vessel of clay.

Over the years I have come to realize just how true that is. Clay vessels are easily cracked and even broken into pieces. They are not like bronze vases that can be slightly dinged and then re-polished or hammered back into their original shapes. They are not almost unbreakable and even everlasting like those made of metal. All earthen vessels, all vessels of clay must be handled with care and sometime even with kid gloves.

Trese was trying to remind his readers, and especially us young seminarians, that as great a vocation as everyone said we were called to fulfill in being a priest was, that was no guarantee that fulfilling it would be easy and that simply because we were priests we would be automatically holy people and inspiring leaders to the various flocks we were called to lead and serve.

Over the years I have learned from experience that it has not been easy and that I have not always, if ever, been that holy and inspiring person. Every one of us, every priest and every lay person, we are all, each and every one of us, a vessel of clay. The older we get, the more nicks and cracks. Some of us, perhaps many of us, have been broken and then pieced back together almost as good as new, but not quite.

The fact that I am just like everyone else has given me some consolation even as I recognize my many failures and shortcomings. It should give all of us consolation. No one of us is perfect. We are all fragile human beings. We have all made our share of mistakes and committed our fair share of sins, maybe even more than our fair share. But with the help of others, with our own self-will and determination and with the grace of God, we have been pieced back together.

Trese’s book has been a constant reminder over the years, if only in the back of my mind, that it does not take much for the vessel to be cracked and even broken into pieces if I am not careful. But that is true for all of us no matter who we are, what our vocation or how old or young. The truth is that “Handle with Care” should be stamped on all our foreheads and into all our brains.