
Waiting with Faith Despite Doubts
When Even the Faithful Question
As we continue our sacred Advent journey, we find ourselves in a place that might feel uncomfortably familiar. Today we meet John the Baptist in Matthew 11:2-3, not as the bold prophet crying in the wilderness, but as a man sitting in Herod's prison, wrestling with doubt.
"Now when John heard in prison about the deeds of the Christ, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, 'Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?'"
Think about this for a moment. This is John the Baptist - the same man who baptized our Lord Jesus and heard the Father's voice from heaven. The same prophet who declared, "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!" Yet here he is, asking, "Are you really the one?"
Prison has a way of changing our perspective, doesn't it? The cold walls, the isolation, the uncertainty of tomorrow - they can make even our strongest convictions feel shaky. John had expected the Messiah to bring immediate judgment, to set the captives free, to establish God's kingdom with power. Instead, he finds himself locked away while Jesus seems to be... teaching and healing.
Sometimes our circumstances don't match our expectations of how God should work. We've prayed the rosary for healing, but the diagnosis remains. We've sought God's provision through our patron saints, but the bills keep coming. We've asked for peace in our families, but the conflicts continue. Like John, we find ourselves asking, "Lord, are you really working? Are you really who we thought you were?"
This Advent season, let's be honest about our questions. Even the most faithful among us have moments when we wonder if God is truly at work. John's doubt doesn't disqualify him from God's service - it makes him human. And Jesus' response shows us how our loving Savior handles our honest questions.
Jesus Responds with Evidence, Not Rebuke
Notice how Jesus responds to John's question in verses 4-6: "And Jesus answered them, 'Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.'"
Jesus doesn't scold John for doubting. He doesn't say, "How dare you question me after all you've seen!" Instead, He points to the evidence of His work. He reminds John - and us - that God's kingdom often comes quietly, through acts of mercy rather than displays of power.
The blind see - not just physically, but spiritually. People who couldn't see God's love now understand His grace through the sacraments. The lame walk - not just on healed legs, but in newness of life through baptism and confirmation. Those who were spiritually paralyzed now move forward in faith. The dead are raised - not just from physical death, but from spiritual death to eternal life through the Eucharist.
This is how our Savior works. Not always with the dramatic intervention we expect, but through steady, faithful acts of love and restoration. When we're tempted to doubt, Jesus invites us to look at the evidence of His work around us.
Where do you see Jesus working today? Perhaps it's in the neighbor who brought meals during illness. Maybe it's in the peace that came during Eucharistic adoration. Could it be in the Scripture verse that spoke directly to your heart during Mass this week? Jesus is still opening blind eyes, healing broken hearts, and raising the spiritually dead to life through His Church.
The phrase "blessed is the one who is not offended by me" is Jesus' gentle way of saying, "Trust me, even when my ways don't match your expectations." The word "offended" here means to stumble or fall away. Jesus understands that His methods might not always make sense to us, but He asks us to trust His heart even when we can't see His hand.
Scripture: Our Anchor in Uncertainty
This is where Paul's words in Romans 15:4 become our lifeline: "For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope."
When our feelings fail us, when circumstances confuse us, when even our prayers seem to bounce off the ceiling, we have an anchor: God's written Word preserved and interpreted through the teaching authority of the Church. The Scriptures weren't given to us as mere historical documents. They were written for our endurance, for our encouragement, and ultimately for our hope.
Think about it - every story of doubt and faith in Scripture was preserved for moments like these. Abraham's long wait for Isaac. Moses' fear at the burning bush. David's cry from the cave. Elijah's depression under the juniper tree. These weren't included to make the heroes look bad, but to show us that even God's chosen servants wrestled with uncertainty.
The word "endurance" here means the ability to remain under pressure without breaking. The "encouragement" speaks of comfort that comes alongside us in our struggles. When John sat in that prison cell, he had the Scriptures and the tradition passed down from the prophets. When we sit in our own prisons - whether of circumstance, illness, financial stress, or relational conflict - we have those same promises, illuminated by the Magisterium.
Paul continues in verse 5: "May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus." Notice that our patient, encouraging God wants to grant us unity even in our struggles. We don't have to pretend we have it all figured out. We can be honest about our questions while still encouraging one another in the communion of saints.
During this Advent season, let's return to the Scriptures not just for information, but for transformation. Let's read God's promises not as distant hopes, but as present sustenance for the "not yet" of our current experience.
Hope That Unites God's People
Romans 15:6-7 shows us the beautiful result of this Scripture-anchored hope: "that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God."
Here's what's remarkable: our shared hope in Christ creates unity even when our individual faith wavers. When John questioned from prison, he didn't isolate himself - he sent his disciples to Jesus with his questions. We don't need to withdraw from the body of Christ. Instead, we can lean into the community of faith - the Church that Christ established.
"With one voice" - this doesn't mean we all think exactly alike or never have questions. It means we're united in our ultimate hope: Christ Jesus, present in the Eucharist and active through the sacraments. Some of us might be in seasons of strong faith, others in seasons of doubt. But we're all looking to the same Savior, all waiting for the same promised return, all anchored to the same hope through our participation in the Mass.
"Welcome one another" - how do we do this? With patience. With understanding. With love that doesn't depend on our performance or the strength of our faith. This is how we're called to welcome one another, especially during Advent when the gap between "already" and "not yet" feels most acute.
Remember that faith is both personal and communal. We don't journey alone. When one member struggles with doubt, others can carry them in prayer and through the intercession of the saints. When one experiences breakthrough, the whole body rejoices. This is the beauty of the Church - we take turns being strong for one another.
Paul's vision in verses 9-12 expands this unity beyond just the Jewish believers to include all nations, all peoples. The hope we share in Christ is big enough to embrace every honest question, every cultural difference, every personality type. Our Advent hope isn't just for people who have it all figured out - it's for everyone willing to wait with faith despite their doubts, trusting in the Church's guidance.
Embracing the "Not Yet"
Both passages speak to the tension we live in during Advent - the "already but not yet" of God's kingdom. Jesus has already come as the suffering servant, but we're still waiting for Him to come as the reigning King. God's kingdom has already been established through the Church, but we're still praying "Thy kingdom come."
This tension is where doubt often creeps in. We see glimpses of God's power and love, but we also see continued suffering, injustice, and pain. Like John, we wonder, "If Jesus is really the answer, why isn't everything fixed yet?"
The answer lies in understanding God's timeline and methods. Jesus came first as the Lamb to take away sin. He's coming again as the Lion to establish justice. Between these two comings, we live in the season of grace - a time when God's mercy is extended to all who will receive it through the sacraments.
The early Church Fathers understood this well. They lived as people of the "not yet" - following Jesus' teachings about peace and love even when the world around them chose violence and hatred. They held onto hope even when persecution came, trusting God's ultimate justice even when immediate justice seemed absent.
This Advent, we're called to the same faithful waiting. We acknowledge our questions honestly, like John did. We look for evidence of God's work, as Jesus encouraged. We anchor ourselves in Scripture's promises as interpreted by the Church. And we support one another in community, as the early church modeled.
The "not yet" isn't a punishment - it's a gift. It's time for more people to come to faith through the Church's mission. It's space for our own character to be formed through the sacraments. It's opportunity for us to trust God's heart even when we can't see His hand. Every day of waiting is another day of grace, another opportunity for God to work in ways we might not expect.
Finding Joy in God's Faithfulness
Paul concludes this section with a beautiful benediction in Romans 15:13: "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope."
Notice the progression: God fills us with joy and peace, which causes us to abound in hope through the Spirit's power. This isn't a hope based on our circumstances or even the strength of our faith. This is hope rooted in the character of the "God of hope" Himself, mediated through His Church.
The word "abound" means to overflow, to have more than enough. God doesn't want us to barely scrape by with just enough hope to survive. He wants us to overflow with hope so that it spills over onto others who are struggling with their own questions and doubts.
This happens "by the power of the Holy Spirit." The same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead is at work in us, producing hope that transcends our circumstances. When our natural optimism fails, when positive thinking isn't enough, when even our best efforts at faith feel inadequate, the Holy Spirit steps in with supernatural hope through the grace available in the sacraments.
As we prepare our hearts this Advent season, let's remember that God's faithfulness isn't dependent on our perfect understanding or unwavering faith. John questioned from prison, but Jesus still called him the greatest born of women. We can question from our own prisons of circumstance, and Jesus still calls us His beloved children through our baptism.
The joy Paul speaks of isn't happiness that depends on everything going well. It's deep satisfaction that comes from belonging to a faithful God who keeps His promises through His Church. The peace isn't the absence of problems, but the presence of God in the midst of our problems.
As we light our Advent candles and participate in the sacred liturgy, let's do so with honest hearts. Let's bring our questions to Jesus in the Eucharist, knowing He responds with evidence of His love, not condemnation for our doubts. Let's find comfort and patience for the journey through the sacraments. Let's support one another in community, welcoming each other as Christ has welcomed us.
And let's wait with faith despite our doubts, knowing that the God of hope is faithful to fill us with joy and peace, causing us to abound in hope through the power of His Spirit. The One who came as a baby in Bethlehem is coming again in glory. Until that day, we wait, we hope, and we trust in His unfailing love.
Come, Lord Jesus. Even so, come quickly. Amen.-F.D.
