Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Matthew 28:16–20

I do. The words came easily at first, practiced, familiar.

​It was Easter Vigil Mass, a most solemn, reverent liturgy. The Church was full, the light soft, the air fragrant with incense. As a community, we were invited to stand and renew our baptismal promises—to remember who we are and whose we are.

​Do you renounce Satan? And all his works? And all his empty promises? I do.

Do you believe in God, the Father Almighty …? And in Jesus Christ …? Do you believe in the Holy Spirit …? I do.

Somewhere in the rhythm of those responses, I felt it—a quiet, halting interruption; a whisper pressing gently against my heart.

​But, do you? It was a clear and pointed question. Do you really believe what you are professing right now?

​Suddenly, I became aware of something unexpected amid my earnest worship: murmurs of doubt. It was only a flicker, and I quickly willed it away, intent on refocusing on the liturgy.

​Yet something of that murmur remained. I can only describe it as the buzzing of a bee. Whenever it came too close, I swatted it away, but the buzzing persisted, lingering in the back of my mind through the rest of Mass and into the days that followed.

​It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later, during a time of quiet prayer, that I again took notice of the buzzing. This time, though, I did not swat it away. I let the uncertainty, once just a flicker, rise and swarm around me.

​Do you really believe what you profess? Because your life says otherwise.

​Memories surfaced, recent moments of real and honest doubt. Doubts about a good God, a personal God. Doubts about the reality of the resurrection. Doubts about eternal life.

Real doubts. Real confusion. Real fear. All of which left me overwhelmed, as if the swarm was closing in on me from all sides, just as the psalmist describes his enemies: “They surrounded me like bees” (Psalm 118:12).

​With all of that buzzing around, how could I stand myself among the faithful?

​Perhaps this is why the second verse from this week’s gospel for the Ascension feels so personal to me. Upon meeting Jesus, their resurrected Savior on the mountain, the disciples “worshipped, but they doubted” (Matthew 28:17).  

​When I brought this gospel to prayer, when I allowed that buzzing to enter the conversation, I was relieved to hear the Lord’s voice even louder in my heart. What He revealed to me was that in our most sacred moments—of worship, faithful profession, or encounter—there can exist a quiet tension within our hearts, a tension holding between both worship and doubt.

​There is something deeply consoling here for those of us who long to love the Lord well, and at the same time wonder if we are any good at it. We aren’t alone. The disciples, those who stand before the risen Jesus in tomorrow's gospel, who saw Him with their own eyes, still had lingering doubts. And, in spite of those doubts, they worshiped.

​Both worship and doubt were present. Both were very real experiences. The one did not cancel out the other.

​How often do we find ourselves here? We show up to prayer, but half-heartedly at best. We profess trust, but internally run through every what-if. We love Jesus, yet wrestle with questions, fears, and quiet resistance to His teachings.

​In those moments, we are tempted to believe the buzz—that we are unworthy, that our faith is insufficient, that we should be stronger, more certain, more steady.

​This gospel, however, is the perfect remedy for those buzzing bees. In it, we find the disciples: the ones who, like us, embody a both/and faith, not being disqualified from Jesus’ presence, nor from His mission. In this very passage, our Lord commissions them, the very same men who worshipped and doubted, were sent to “go and make disciples” (Matthew 28:19). 

It is here, in their doubts, that Jesus meets them and assures them of His identity: “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18). Jesus is reassuring them, and us: He is who He says He is, the image of the invisible God. He is worthy of our worship, and He can handle our doubts.

May this gospel allow us to come face-to-face with the reality of how weak and powerless we truly are. Because, on our own, we will never qualify. Were it not for Jesus, we would still be dead in our transgressions (Ephesians 2:5). It is always Jesus who qualifies us for what we cannot do on our own. 

We are called not because we are perfect, but because He is.

When doubts arise and questions linger on our lips, it is Jesus who calms us with His truth: Daughter, my grace is sufficient for you. Not the other way around. It’s okay for you to be weak. It’s okay for you to fail, doubt, be unsure, or falter. For when you are weak, then I am strong (2 Corinthians 12:9–10).

When our hearts feel unsteady, He reminds us that He is unshakeable (Hebrews 13:8).

When our understanding is incomplete, He points us to His truth (John 14:6).

When the noise grows louder, He draws near with His presence (Matthew 28:20).

And when we are mired in doubt, it is Jesus who assures us of who we are (Ephesians 2:10).

​Dear friend, our faith does not rest on our ability to understand everything. It rests on the One who holds everything together (Colossians 1:17).

​Perhaps that moment at Easter Vigil was not something I was supposed to dismiss or swat away. Perhaps the buzzing bee was meant not as an interruption but rather an invitation to move beyond familiar words and into a deeper, more honest faith.  

​Instead of fearing the doubt, may we embrace the both/and: both the doubting and the faith. May this not hold us back from stepping into the mission He has for us; rather, let it embolden us. With Him, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26).

May all of it lead us back to Him, our Creator, Redeemer, and Savior. And, may we never stop professing, though our voice may tremble, Lord, “I do believe; help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).

Food for thought or journaling …

Where do I feel the buzz of doubt or uncertainty in my faith? How might Jesus be inviting me to bring those honest questions to Him? 

Lord Jesus, You know all of my doubts and fears. Meet me in my weakness and help me to trust You more. Strengthen my faith, and let Your grace be enough for me today. Jesus, I trust in You. Amen. 

P.S. Discover how seeking balance through our worship can keep those buzzing doubts and fears at bay by turning to Lesson 7 of the Bible study, Keeping in Balance.

Note: The Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord is traditionally celebrated on Ascension Thursday, the fortieth day after Easter. In most dioceses in the United States, the celebration is transferred to the following Sunday.