by Fr. Paul D. Scalia

For the past week, the death of Pope Francis has dominated the news. For the next several weeks, the election of his successor will do so. And today the Church places before us the story about Thomas's doubt and, therefore, about what it means to believe. (John 20:19-31) In God's providence, the scene orients our thoughts and prayers about the papacy and the next pope.

Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe." Now, it's a terrible thing to call this Apostle "Doubting Thomas." Yes, he was "unbelieving." But that wasn't the end of his story. He proclaimed the Gospel in distant lands and was martyred for Christ. He should also be remembered for that.

Of course, there's no getting away from Thomas's doubt: I will not believe. But even there, we can glean some spiritual benefit, which is why the event is recorded. Thomas's error is entirely to our benefit, as it was ultimately to his. It teaches us what it means to believe.

First, faith comes from the Church. Thomas doesn't believe that the disciples had seen the Lord, that Jesus was risen from the dead. But more to the point, he doesn't believe the testimony of the Church. For when the disciples say to Thomas, "We have seen the Lord," it is in effect the Church herself bearing witness to the Resurrection. It is the Church announcing what is to be believed. Thomas doesn't believe in the Resurrection because he doesn't accept the Church's witness.

The only way we know our Lord and His teachings is through His Church. To believe doesn't mean to prove it for ourselves, as Thomas wanted to do. It means to receive and to accept what the Church believes and teaches. An individual's act of faith is inseparable from the Church's faith.

Once, when defending her conversion to Catholicism, Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton blurted out to a relative, I believe everything the Council of Trent teaches - and I have not even read it! That sounds crazy to our individualistic culture. But it captures the truth that our faith rests not on our cleverness or human proofs, but on the Church's authoritative teaching. It is the Church who believes first. Each of us can say I believe only because the Church first says We believe.

Second, faith has content. The disciples proclaim to Thomas a specific truth, the Resurrection. And Thomas makes this article of faith even more specific: "Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nail marks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe." This is faith not only in the Resurrection but in the physical resurrection.

We don't believe in God in some vague or general way. We believe in a particular, specific God, Who has revealed Himself by word and deed, and is known by the articles of the Creed.

It's silly to exhort someone to "Just believe!" or "Have faith!" Believe what? Faith in whom? The content of faith makes all the difference. It determines whether we have faith at all. To believe in the triune God gives us the truth and leads us to salvation. To believe in error or merely to have religious opinions leads us astray, no matter how well-intentioned we may be.

Some years ago, then-Prince Charles mused about changing the British monarch's traditional title from "Defender of the Faith" to "Defender of Faith." In fairness, a change of title is probably in order. But the now-King's proposal was typically modern, emptying faith of any content. It rejected "the Faith," implying a specific credal content, for "faith," left unspecified. For our culture, faith is just a vague kind of trust in something, somewhere. . . out there.

This fuzziness about faith leads inevitably to the notion that all religions are the same, just different paths to God. This trivialization of belief insults members of other religions ("You're Muslim? What a coincidence, I'm Catholic!"). More importantly, it fails to take our own faith...