A Tempered Faith Faith doesn’t grow in spite of doubts, but because of them. Jamie A. Hughes I still remember how my heart was twisted in knots. As I listened to the pastor preach on the goodness of God, all I could think about were the dead Egyptian firstborns mentioned in Sunday school. If God is good, I asked myself, He wouldn’t hurt anyone, especially innocent babies, would He? Jesus loves the little children of the world, right? I couldn’t reconcile the ideas, and the struggle made me squirm. Granted, the pew was far from comfortable in the best of times, but each time it creaked and groaned, I just knew the entire congregation was staring at me, well aware of the doubter in their midst. Finally, we all stood to sing the invitational hymn, the last obstacle between me and escape. But before we could finish the fourth verse of “I Surrender All,” the pastor stopped and asked, “Do you know that you know that you know? Are you certain you’re a child of God? Do you trust in His goodness?” Cries of “Amen” and “Thank You, Jesus” erupted around me. Suddenly, I wanted to collapse back onto the unforgiving wood, to vanish into it until I (and my doubts) could slink out unnoticed. I’ve learned many things since that day, the most important of which is this: I wasn’t the first person to experience such a moment, and I certainly won’t be the last. Chances are you’ve been there too. You’ve battled with doubt or questioned some aspect of your faith. Maybe you felt guilty about it because a teacher shamed you with Scripture, as mine did, saying that “the one who doubts is like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind” and “that man ought not to expect that he will receive anything from the Lord” (James 1:6-8). Maybe your questions, like mine, were not warmly welcomed. And maybe your heart still carries the scars. The Sources of Doubt There’s a reason why Jude advised believers to tread carefully where faith is concerned and “have mercy on some, who are doubting” (1:22). It’s easy to forget, especially when the pressure of conformity is brought to bear, that Christians can be “found” and still feel totally “lost” at times. The death of a loved one, a terminated job or relationship, the pain of disappointment—all of these things may cause us to doubt God’s goodness, perhaps even His existence. But thankfully, He stoops to meet us where we are and teaches us about Himself all over again. He will wrestle with us through the evening, just as He did with Jacob, and bless us for our willingness to approach Him for reassurance. (See Genesis 32:24-32.) The same thing happens when new knowledge challenges our convictions. If what we’ve learned in church clashes with the things we’re taught in the classroom, a battle begins in us that can be won only through self-examination and soul-searching. But it is in these moments of discrepancy that we discover exactly what we believe. Through them, we learn a valuable lesson: It’s not enough to have faith because we’re told to. We have to make faith our own. As William Lane Craig says in Hard Questions, Real Answers, “Any Christian who is intellectually engaged and reflecting about his faith will inevitably face the problem of doubt.” Seeds of unbelief can take root when what we’ve asked has not been answered, but that doesn’t mean all questions are created equal. “Any Christian who is intellectually engaged and reflecting about his faith will inevitably face the problem of doubt.” - William Lane Craig, Hard Questions, Real Answers An obstinate heart that interrogates God judgmentally is a dangerous thing, but sincere questions are proof of courageous faith. Yet doubt remains an unwelcome guest in many of our churches; it’s something we sidestep, ignore, and rarely if ever discuss. And this refusal to deal with frank questions is negatively impacting young believers. Dealing with the Questions The simple solution for doubting is to request answers—and to do so together. No matter how old we are or how long we’ve been Christians, there are times we all feel like shouting, “I believe; help my unbelief!” to anyone who cares to listen (Mark 9:24 NKJV). Our questions and fears shouldn’t be relegated to the shadows, because faith, especially the kind that walks around on wobbly coltish legs, doesn’t do well alone. So instead of being discouraged from asking, searchers should find the church a sanctuary where believers are “speaking the truth in love” (Eph. 4:15). Perhaps we feel that expressing spiritual insecurities or asking probing questions about God and the Bible is somehow taboo, but the Word teaches the opposite. Time and time again in Scripture, God rewards people who refuse to settle or take no for an answer. For instance, Ruth declined to leave Naomi despite being told to return to her homeland, and for her courage, she became part of the familial line of David (Ruth 1:8-18; 4:13-17). The same can be said of the Canaanite woman who cried out to Jesus to heal her demon-possessed child. She persisted despite His testing, and because she trusted in His power, she earned the highest praise of all: “O woman, your faith is great; it shall be done for you as you wish” (Matt. 15:28). The truth is, believing isn’t always simple. In fact, when we’re hurting or have been blindsided by life, it can feel downright impossible. That’s the reason Sarah laughed in her heart and said, “Shall I indeed bear a child when I am so old?” (Gen. 18:13). Even Jeremiah, who was tasked to call Israel to repentance, asked God, “Will You indeed be to me like a deceptive stream with water that is unreliable?” (Jer. 15:18). The important thing to understand is that these honest questions, when posed to God, were met with understanding rather than condemnation. And by answering them in His time, the Almighty enlarged Sarah’s faith with the child whose name means “laughter” and strengthened Jeremiah so he could declare, “The Lord is with me as a mighty, awesome One” (Gen. 21:6-7; Jer. 20:11 NKJV). Like them, we are His beloved children, and He will provide us with the same kind of reassurances. Drawing Closer to God . . . Together As I think back to that agonizing Sunday when I felt so alone in my doubts, I wish I’d had the courage to linger—not in shame, but in expectation that a fellow believer would help me untangle the knot of questions in my head. What if someone had seen me, known my angst for what it was, and said, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Tell me what you’re thinking, because I bet I’ve thought that too”? What if someone had said, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Tell me what you’re thinking, because I bet I’ve thought that too”? Discussions like this make the body of Christ stronger, not weaker. They allow us to link arms on the journey to “comfort those . . . with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God” (2 Cor. 1:4). Sometimes a question—a longing to know our heavenly Father—is all we can bring to the altar, and in those moments of vulnerability, a kind ear can be the difference between a person walking with God or walking away from Him. In James’s discussion of doubt, the apostle also says that “the testing of your faith produces endurance” and anyone who “lacks wisdom” can “ask [it] of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach” (James 1:3, 5). Questions are how we ask for wisdom, and a faith that asks the right ones, according to Os Guinness, “knows God more certainlyand . . . can enjoy God more deeply” (God In the Dark: The Assurance of Faith Beyond a Shadow of a Doubt). That’s why He gives us the freedom to wrestle with Him, to plead for understanding, and even to shout and shake our fists, if that’s what we need to “taste and see that the Lord is good”(Ps. 34:8). His desire is not to browbeat us into submission but to draw us ever closer to Himself. As we mature in faith, we should meet our doubts head-on each and every time they arise. It is how we make faith our own and grow in Christlikeness. In his “Holy Sonnet XIV,” the poet John Donne pleads for God to carry out this painful but essential transformation in him: Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for You As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new. This should be our daily prayer as well, for when our questions are answered and our doubts relieved, a tempered faith remains. And in a world determined to tear us away from the Source of truth, we need a faith that has been tested in the fires of examination—a faith that will let us rise and stand.
Posted on: Sat, 24 Aug 2013 01:14:36 +0000
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