The associated reading for this reflection can be found in your Every Sacred Sunday Mass journal or online here.
Today’s Gospel reading for the Solemnity of the Ascension of Our Lord seems so short. Five sentences for what is such an incredible moment.
Remember that at this point the Apostles had seen Christ’s miracles. They saw him heal the sick, multiply the loaves and fishes, cast out demons, and even raise the dead. They watched him die for our sins and return in his glorified body
And yet we read today, “they worshipped him, but they doubted.”
What does that mean? They doubted He is the Lord? They doubted how they would carry on without Him? According to the USCCB, the Greek here can also refer to having “little faith,” “whose faith in him is not as deep as it should be.”
How can this be? They were with Him. They saw everything! Yet they doubted their own lived experiences.
How often do we do the same thing? We get through Lent with prayer and fasting, sing “Alleluia!” on Easter Sunday, and before we know it…we doubt. We doubt that Christ is really walking with us. We doubt that he truly loves us. We doubt in ourselves and our ability to carry our cross. We doubt that He is listening and guiding us to our salvation if we but love Him. We doubt. We doubt. We doubt.
But what if we looked at it the other way?
The Apostles doubted, but they worshipped Him. Even though we doubt, we can worship. We can choose faith as an action even if our emotions don’t always line up. The Apostles, the men who were at Christ’s side through everything and saw the wounds on his transfigured body, doubted…but they didn’t let that be the end of their story. They spent the rest of their lives making disciples of all nations, spreading the Gospel, and living out their vocations as commanded by Jesus, even to the point of giving their lives for the truth.
We can do the same. We don’t need to let “doubt” be the end of our story. We can choose trust even if we don’t feel it every moment. We can know Jesus is Lord and listen to Him even when we feel unsure.
For we have been promised, “And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.”
Marissa Rankin is a classically trained mezzo-soprano living in Nashville, Tennessee. You can probably find her and her husband at their church, serving their parish in the choir loft, where they aspire to draw hearts and minds to heaven through music. Between rehearsals and Mass, they often joke that their church is their “second home.” She is the creator of Covenant Co., a series of resources for engaged and married Catholics, where she desires to remind the Church that marriage is a vocation, too.
