No More Doubt

I know Holy Week can be hard for a lot of us who struggle with scrupulosity. Often, special seasons or holidays in the Christian year mean more church services and thus heightened exposure to Scripture, prayer, and the other things that can trigger our intrusive thoughts and anxiety. But I want to encourage you with a thought my pastor shared this morning, and why it gave me hope: Jesus’s resurrection was not just spiritual, but it was also bodily.

His heart began to beat again, his lungs took in air again, and he got up and walked out of the tomb. This means that our resurrection will not only be spiritual, but bodily, too. Jesus is making all things new, and we have his promise that when he returns, our bodies will be made new. Our souls will be fully cleansed and free from sin, but our bodies will also be fully whole and healed, raised from the dead like seeds, long buried in the dirt, now bursting into bloom.

I know this probably brings up doubts: “What if I’m not his child? This sounds great, but what if I’m outside of the promise?” As we know, the what ifs are characteristic of scrupulosity. It is hard not to believe them or give into the cycle of obsession. But we cling to the promise that all who come to him will be saved. We cling to the promise that nothing we do can put us beyond Christ’s redemption. How do we know this is true? Because the tomb is empty. Sin and death have been crushed, and Jesus stands ready to welcome any who come to him. Yes, even you, in your endless doubts and what ifs.

And when he comes back, when he makes all things new, when we see the resurrection that has come from all of this desolation—we too will be made whole.

What hope this offers the suffering Christian!

One day, your brain will be healed. Your conscience will no longer unjustly accuse you. Your mind will no longer latch onto obsessions. You will no longer be crippled by anxiety, dread, or panic. Intrusive thoughts will no longer be sticky. In fact, they will no longer exist at all. There will be no more doubt, and no more need for faith, because then we will see him face-to-face.

And hear this: we will see not the frown that we fear, nor the anger that we anticipate, nor the disapproval that we dread. Instead, we will see affection from the One who came to the people who rejected him, the Man of Sorrows, his hands still bearing the scars from when he was pierced for our sins. And we will finally, fully believe that he loves us. Deeply, generously, truly.

These things will be true when he returns. And until then, we continue to cry, “I believe; help my unbelief!”