The title of this article can be taken in two different ways, and I mean both of them. On the one hand, “Doubt Away” might sound protective, as in put doubt away. Or it might seem permissive, as in go ahead, doubt away. As Christian educators we should teach and model to our students how to do both. When it comes to doubt, we aim for protection while giving large swaths of permission.
We aim for protection because the goal of the Christian life is faith, not doubt. We’re called believers, not doubters or even wishers. But we give our students—and we give ourselves—much permission to doubt because we understand that while doubt is not the goal, neither is it the opposite of faith. This article will examine both permission and protection, and each section will close with specific tips for keeping our faith.
Permission to Doubt
We live in a secular age that threatens to turn us all into doubting Thomases. I once saw a jogger run past a splintering pole. I winced and wondered what it would feel like to brush against its shredding shards. I remembered Jesus was nailed to a cross like that. And then I thought, What if he wasn’t? How do I know the story in the gospels is true? I shook my head and snapped out of it. How did seeing a jogger lead me to question my faith—and in three short moves?
It’s the times we live in. We are continually told we only know what we can empirically prove, so it’s natural to start to wonder about the facts of history. Especially when they’re important. The higher the stakes, the more we’re likely to doubt. Remember the shadows of doubt you felt when you closed on your house? I’m borrowing how much money, for how long? Or perhaps also on your wedding day? Do I really know this person I’m going to live with for the rest of my life? Big ticket items like a mortgage or a marriage make us want to know for sure.
It’s the same with God. Nothing is more important than knowing the one true God. The stakes could not be higher. Everything is at risk. If that doesn’t cause an occasional lump to rise in our throats, we’re probably not thinking. But as with mortgages and marriage, the doubts that arise provide an opportunity for discovery, which either leads to change or confirmation. When we pursue answers to our doubts, we should eventually find either that we were wrong (so we change our beliefs) or that we were right (so we confirm our beliefs). Either conclusion is an improvement. So rather than run from doubt or pretend we’re not doubting, we should use our doubts as an opportunity to find and verify the truth.
Of course, the process of discovery can be excruciatingly painful. Sometimes we wonder if we will ever know for sure. We may become paralyzed by fear, not knowing what to think or do. When this happens, the following are three truths that may help through our dark night of the soul.
We can believe even when we don’t know for sure. The word faith simply means to commit, trust, or rely. We express our faith in Jesus when we put all our weight on him. And we can do that, even when we have doubts. History’s biggest doubt happened on the cross. Jesus cried out in bewildered anguish, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt. 27:46). But he continued to believe. He came right back with, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit” (Luke 23:46).
If faith means to commit, then the opposite of faith is not doubt. We can commit to Jesus even when we’re unsure. The opposite of faith is disobedience. Demons lack faith not because they have doubts about God but because they refuse to obey the truth they know.
Martin Luther noticed the first of the Ten Commandments is “the command to believe,” for God is ordering us to put our entire “confidence, trust, and faith in [Him] alone and in no one else” (1500–1, 1512). Luther’s observation may seem harsh to doubters. Besides the panic caused by doubt, should they also feel guilty for not believing? But Luther’s point is actually liberating: my uncertainty need not stop me from committing. I can choose to rely on Jesus because God has commanded me. I can believe out of obedience until my knowledge catches up.
Our distress is a sign we do believe. The desperate father’s cry to Jesus, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” is not as paradoxical at it seems (Mark 9:24). The man’s anxiety to believe is a sign he’s already believing more than he knows. We should worry most about our faith when our big doubts don’t bother us. If we can shrug at significant doubts, then we show we don’t care enough to wrestle with them. Conversely, we should take our anguish as a sign that our faith matters, and it matters because deep down we really do believe.
The object of faith matters far more than the strength of our faith. Would you rather be a conflicted fan of the New England Patriots or a passionate fan of the Detroit Lions? You might suspect Tom Brady is over the hill, but your trust in him, no matter how feeble, is more likely to be rewarded than your inexplicable confidence in the Lions. It doesn’t matter how much we believe in something. What matters is what we believe in. Our faith doesn’t have to be powerful. It only needs to be well placed. Jesus said faith as small as a mustard seed is enough (Matt. 17:20). Don’t worry if your faith isn’t as strong as you’d like. Faith is like horseradish: a little bit goes a long way.
Protection from Doubt
Wise teachers give students and themselves space to doubt. We don’t panic and try to stifle doubt, as if it were some embarrassing character flaw. Conversely, neither do we try to stoke it. The apostle Paul writes, “The goal of this command is love, which comes from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith” (1 Tim. 1:5). Christians don’t aim for doubt. We want to believe!
Many Christian teachers, perhaps trying to turn a difficult situation into something positive, attempt to make a virtue out of doubt. They claim that doubt is necessary for faith and that if we’re not doubting, then we’re not believing. This is absurd.
One evangelical leader asked his audience if they believed he had a twenty-dollar bill in his hand. “Now watch,” he said, “I will open my hand and show you that it’s there, and I will destroy your faith. Because now that you know it’s there, you can’t believe it’s there.” Really? If this were true, then Jesus would have told Thomas, “Put your hands in my side, and I will destroy your faith. Now that you have seen me, it’s impossible for you to believe in me”? If this were true, then Jesus’s return would destroy our faith. But we’ll never stop needing to rely on Jesus. It will simply be easier when he returns and our faith is made sight.
Read almost any Christian book on doubt and you’ll be told that God doesn’t pull out a celestial megaphone and announce his existence because to do so would ruin the freedom we need in order to exercise faith. If we knew for sure that God existed, then we would have no choice but to trust in him. Really? Adam and Eve had no doubts about God, and yet they managed to disobey. Pharaoh asked, “Who is the Lord, that I should obey him and let Israel go?” (Exod. 5:2). Ten plagues later, Pharaoh had a pretty good idea. Yet he managed to avoid putting his faith in God. So did Israel, who found the freedom to worship a golden calf even as Mount Sinai shook with thunder. Consider why we sin. It’s not because of our doubts. I disobey not because I’m unsure about God and his will for me. I disobey when I just don’t care.
Let’s not emphasize our permission to doubt so strongly that we say doubt is somehow necessary for faith. If I had told my godly Mennonite grandmother, “Grandma, I don’t see you wrestling with existential angst. Are you sure you believe?” she would have said, “Mike, you’re an idiot.” She would have been right.
We must avoid two extremes. On the one hand, we give permission to doubt because doubt is not the opposite of faith. On the other hand, we seek to protect against doubt because doubt diminishes knowledge, which is the fuel of faith. As Paul rhetorically asked, “How can [anyone] believe in the one of whom they have not heard? . . . Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ” (Rom. 10:14, 17). Faith doesn’t need doubt, but it does need some knowledge. We can believe when we don’t know for sure, but we can’t believe in what we don’t know at all.
The following are three reminders that help when I’m doubting:
Know your place. The first rule of all Christian thought is that an ontological chasm exists between the infinite God and finite me. If this is true, then I should expect to find questions I cannot answer. I get into trouble when I forget my finitude and try to climb into God’s realm and Figure It Out. This may feel like an honest quest for truth, but it’s actually a pious display of pride. I need to be content with my limitations and what God has chosen to reveal to me (Deut. 29:29). If God is who he says he is, then I should expect both unanswered questions and unanswerable ones too. Let’s take divine mystery not as a reason to doubt but as a sign we’re talking about God—or at least somewhere in his vicinity.
Practice good spiritual hygiene. Not all doubt rises from sin, but sin does exacerbate doubt. Not always but often when I find myself doubting, it’s at least in part because I’ve been slacking in corporate worship, Bible reading, prayer, or obedience. When I don’t behave as a believer, I shouldn’t be surprised when I struggle to be one. Besides practicing regular spiritual disciplines, I find it helpful to shut off my computer and phone. Digital technology tends to sap my sense of transcendence. It’s hard to believe in God when I am constantly online. So I take regular technology fasts. Especially on the Lord’s Day.
Don’t trust your feelings. We can’t control our feelings, but we can control how we respond to them. When I feel like I don’t believe much, I remind myself why I believe in Scripture and Jesus. This often helps, but when it doesn’t, so what? I can commit to my heavenly Father anyway, regardless of how I feel. These moments may be when my faith is most real. Anyone can believe under blue skies in May. But when you’re rattled, when heaven is not responding, when you’re hanging on a cross, that’s when your continued reliance on God might just mean the most.
Don’t fear doubt, and don’t aim for it. Doubt away.
Work Cited
Luther, Martin. What Luther Says, Volume 3. Edited by Ewald M. Plass. St. Louis: Concordia, 1959.
Michael Wittmer is professor of systematic theology at Grand Rapids Theological Seminary and author of Despite Doubt: Embracing a Confident Faith (Discovery House).