Today is Easter. On this day, Christians believe, Jesus came back to life after being executed on Good Friday.

(This is not a post about religion or religious beliefs. I’m not interested in discussing any of that here, nor in setting off the type of comments-section flame war that always seems to follow any hint of that talk. The Bible means a lot of different things to a lot of different people, but it is inarguably a collection of interesting stories. Do not mistake any of the following for me thumping the Bible in anyone’s direction. Trust me, that’s not my bag.)

Because it’s Easter, and because I am with my family today enjoying some of the delicious trappings of the holiday (ie Cadbury Creme Eggs), and because absolutely everything makes me think of the Mets, I planned a brief post vaguely linking the Biblical tale of Thomas the Apostle to the modern-day Mets fan.

According to the story, Thomas, or St. Thomas, or Doubting Thomas, did not believe that Jesus came back to life on Easter. A bunch of people tried to tell him it happened, but Thomas basically said, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

So my original point was going to be about how so many Mets fans, with Opening Day a day away, are Doubting Thomases. We are skeptical of our team’s ability to compete. We are unwilling to commit blind faith. We will believe it when we see it.

But I realized it’s a terrible metaphor.

In the story, Thomas’ doubt is notable because Thomas knows Jesus to have healed the sick and turned water into wine and all that. Certainly, returning from death is above and beyond the things Thomas knows Jesus is capable of, but Thomas knows Jesus is capable of some remarkable things.

The Mets have performed few miracles in the last couple of years, and done little to inspire faith in their fanbase. Those among us that doubt their ability to succeed in 2010 are not skeptics at all, merely realists. We watched the bitter ends of the 2007 and 2008 campaigns and endured the misery of the 2009 one. We read the reports recapping every baffling trade and misguided free-agent pursuit. We lamented all the vesting options.

We hear the talk that this club features many of the same players that ran away with the N.L. East in 2006 and fell one game short of the playoffs in 2007 and 2008, but we know that the last three seasons exposed warts and occasional inadequacies in those players, and fluctuations in their performances that justify our tempered expectations. And we realize that the team’s opponents in the division have only gotten better over that time.

So we are not capital-d Doubters. We are just reasonable baseball fans with a solid sense of what makes a winning ballclub, and a strong feeling that an Opening Day lineup featuring Gary Matthews Jr., Mike Jacobs, Alex Cora, Jeff Francoeur, Luis Castillo and Rod Barajas is not that.

And it’s funny to me, then, that the Mets’ traditional lexicon is all wrapped up in near-to-downright religious terminology: Magic, Faithful, Believe, Amazin’, Miracle.

That’s the type of stuff, it seems, this club is relying on to carry it through until the injured players return and the starting pitchers work out their kinks and the bullpen roles settle into place, and until all the little things that the Mets need to happen to compete in the N.L. East that no one’s sure will actually happen finally happen.

And the messed-up thing — and I’ll stop writing in the plural now, because I don’t want to speak for all Mets fans here — is that I’m relying on all of it, too.

Opening Day is tomorrow, and somehow, despite all my realistic concerns about the Mets’ 2010 outlook, I’m clinging to the hope that there is some immeasurable intangible — some magic — that can thrust the Mets’ particular collection of underwhelming ballplayers to greatness.

I am the opposite of Doubting Thomas. I am the king of wishful thinking.

I mean heck, the Mets have stars, right? There’s Wright and Santana and Bay, and when they return, Beltran and Reyes. Can’t I hold out hope that five really good players can carry a team to glory, even without complementary performances from their teammates and even despite inevitable mismanagement from their bench and front office?

And the Mets, for the first time in a while, have prospects too! Can’t I believe that Niese and Mejia will succeed, and eventually Davis and Martinez and Tejada can come up and propel the Mets to victories?

Of course I can. Baseball, more than any other sport, inspires in me a sense of spirituality. I love football and basketball too, but those sports provoke a more visceral, emotional response. Baseball evokes something deeper, more meaningful — like those words Mets fans bandy about. Faith and belief and amazement.

So maybe they’ll amaze me this year, is all I’m saying. The day before Opening Day, that’s the most I can hope for.

Would I trade all that for a decent starting pitcher and a second baseman who could field the position? Of course. But this is where we’re at. This is why the realists have no faith in the Mets.

But baseball’s a funny game, and way crazier things have happened than a Mets team that looks downright crappy at the outset of the season looking outright dominant at the end of it. I’m not betting on it happening , but Opening Day is a time for optimism. Blind optimism, maybe, but optimism regardless.

And if all else fails, we can enjoy Citi Field’s new rum bar, and Sonny Rollins: