Joy. Disbelief. Wonder.
JOY. DISBELIEF. WONDER.
For much of this week, these three words, scrawled in ballpoint ink looked back at me expectantly. They had something profound to say, I was certain of it because they lept off the page at me as I read this gospel text.
“While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering…” (for the full context of this verse read Luke 24.36-53)
JOY. DISBELIEF. WONDER.
That’s it! That’s the sermon I’ll preach this week. That’s what I have to preach about. It’s exciting when a few words in scripture grab my attention like these three did. But as the days labored on, those three words were all I had. Between family, funerals, small groups, projects, and meetings, the silence between my pen and the page felt like a young couple on an awkward first date; they sense something between them but don’t quite know what to say to one another.
Then, as the temperature dropped and the rain fell, I thought, “Maybe my attraction to these words is just a reflection of how I feel about spring in Fort Wayne.
I feel joy when the sun returns after months of stale gray skies.
I feel disbelief when the sun retreats again, and the temperature drops from 70 degrees to 30 overnight.
I wonder how this Florida boy wound up living in such a place.
But it’s more than that.
JOY. DISBELIEF. WONDER.
There’s tension in these words. There’s tension in me, too. I often feel it after Easter.
On Easter Sunday, we boldly and joyfully proclaim the good news of the risen Christ, only to follow up the next Sunday by confronting our doubts and disbelief alongside Thomas as he insists on seeing the scars in Jesus’ hands and feet. The crowd of Easter Sunday subsides, the extra chairs are back in storage, and life returns to an unwelcome normal. I long to hang on to Easter joy, free of question and unbelief. But I’m too much like Thomas and reside in the tension between faith and doubt.
Why can’t I just be joyful?
Why can’t I just be shiny and happy?
The good news is just as good this Sunday as two Sundays ago. Right?!
So, why does my focus drift so readily from the beauty of the Easter lilies to how those same vile weeds set my sinuses ablaze?
Maybe this is what it means to live in the already and not yet.
The kingdom of God has arrived fully in Jesus. It is here and now. Christ is risen. We are whole and healed, forgiven and free. AND Part of me still feels stuck.
Maybe I’ve seen too much suffering up close. Maybe I don’t have the creative energy to put a positive spin on everything and resolve all the conflict by the third verse, as often happens in Christian pop music.
Because most of the time, my resurrection joy, faith, and trust just have to co-exist with my doubt and disbelief.
Maybe that sounds strange or impossible.
Those things can’t reside alongside one another, can they?
Maybe it sounds inappropriate or upsetting that a pastor isn’t all faith all the time. Shouldn’t a “person of the cloth” have this sorted out?
But here’s what I’m discovering: The tension I feel draws me toward a deepening trust in God, not away from it. My simultaneous joy and disbelief lead me to a sense of wonder, and wonder is different from disbelief. Wonder is that sense of awe I feel when all of this is beyond my comprehension. Wonder is the delightful “I don’t know” I can proclaim when someone asks me something I don’t understand about God. Wonder is the feeling I get when my study leads to more unresolved questions than answers yet I still want to trust God even more. Wonder is embracing the mystery that is Christ while proclaiming Christ to be trustworthy and true.
“While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering…”
I love how Jesus responds to the disciple's joy, disbelief, and wonder.
He doesn’t break out his best systematic theology.
He doesn’t chide or berate them for not getting it.
Instead, he says,
“Have you anything here to eat?”
And they sit down around the campfire. They share a meal of broiled fish, and Jesus reminds them of who they are. He reminds them of all they’ve seen and experienced together. He reminds them of what he taught them (and what they learned) along the way. Then he blessed them and left.
It doesn’t say everything was resolved or that they were free of questions, doubt, and disbelief. It just says they worshipped in joy. And I imagine their worship was “wonder-full.” Because something changes in us when we actively trust God, even amid that which we struggle to believe or understand.
JOY. DISBELIEF. WONDER.