All people of faith are familiar with doubt. Yet we may well feel some sense of shame or guilt for doubting, as if we should not. The very existence of doubts seems to indicate a feeble faith rather than a clear conviction.
I see it differently.
Doubt is not the same as unbelief; it is a time of being unsure whether we believe or not; it is a potential turning point. Although doubt is not a sin, it is important to pay it careful attention, because there can be consequences for all eternity.
Look back at the things you now believe. Wasn’t there a time, maybe long ago, that you doubted them? Praise the Lord that he has brought you through those doubts to greater faith. Every advance in our faith was preceded by doubt, out of which grew conviction. Through doubt, in time, comes greater faith - doubt is the growing edge of faith.
But of course doubt can also be the turning point at which we lose our faith - hence its seriousness and potentially eternal consequences. So what makes the difference? When does doubt turn to faith, and when to unbelief?
I think it depends on what do you do when you doubt.
Do you dwell on your doubts and try to rationally work them out by yourself, probably getting stuck in the process? Do you pretend to have faith, but inwardly harbour doubt? Do you turn away from God, doubting that he will help? Do you stop going to church because you are not sure what you believe? If so, that way lies disbelief, discontent, disillusionment, and ultimately death.
Or do you take your doubts to Jesus?
There are many famous doubters in the Bible. Here are a few:
- Abram, who doubted God would give him the promised land, in Genesis 15v8
- Gideon, who doubted whether he was hearing from God, in Judges 6v17
- John the Baptist, who doubted whether Jesus was the Messiah, in Matthew 11v2
- Peter, who doubted he could walk on water when Jesus told him to, in Matthew 14v29
- and Thomas, who doubted whether Jesus had risen from the dead, in John 20v25.
Each was honest with God, taking their doubt to Him. And God didn't strike them down for doubting, but in each case responded carefully and gently to their doubts in a way that caused their doubt to turn to faith!
Why do I still doubt? Because my faith is still growing; because He still has more to do in me!
And if you are really struggling with doubt and wonder whether you can carry on as a Christian, do not suppose that you will resolve your doubts by giving up your faith. Do you really think that non-Christians and atheists don’t have doubts: What if there is a God? Perhaps Christians are right? What am I here for? Surely there is more to life than this?
So the answer to doubt is not atheism, but honestly taking your doubts to God. God can use doubt to grow our faith!
There is nothing that God wants better than to increase your faith, so that you know Him better and to make you more useful to Him. In every case I quoted – Abram, Gideon, John the Baptist, Peter, Thomas – it was through their doubt that God brought about greater faith! If we take our doubts to Him, He can use them to grow our faith.
Doubt is the growing edge of faith - when we take it to Jesus!
At this time of year we all like the familiar, warm feeling of Christmas - carol singers with candles, mince pies and mulled wine, nine lessons and carols, a Christmas tree with baubles and tinsel and enticing presents beneath. Somehow it is cozy and safe, reminding us of childhood excitement, snowmen and sledges, followed by hot chocolate.
If only that were the message of Christianity at Christmas!
I'm all for the things above - a time to pause from the bustle of life and re-connect with family and give gifts. But actually I'm very glad that this is not the message of Christianity! For it is also somehow irrelevant to the rather harsher realities of most of life, which includes financial struggles, unemployment, rejections, broken relationships and anxiety. If Christianity has anything useful to offer, it must be relevant to real life.
Perhaps that is why the Christian celebration of Christmas is about God coming into the world as a baby, born in poverty in a muddy shed, welcomed by a few and ignored by the majority, and the family's flight as refugees into exile as the despot ruler massacred children in an attempt to kill the baby.*
Umm, not much tinsel there ... and yet the Love of God revealed.
I hope you have a loving, safe and peaceful Christmas.
* You can read about it yourself in the Bible, in Matthew Chapter 2
When Jesus commanded his followers to be salt and light, he was making clear that they were to be clearly different from their non-Christian neighbours: light in a dark world, etc. After all, if being a Christian makes no visible difference, then what is the point? And if those who are in the dark cannot see the light, then they will never be saved.
It's strange, then, how much effort some Christians take to distinguish their particular theological brand or denomination from other Christian brands or denominations - as if Christianity was some kind of internal competitive market.
Where Christians put more effort into this internal competition than being distinctively 'light' in a dark world, I wonder what's going on and who is being served.
I don't think that was what Jesus had in mind!
Isn't it interesting how we identify ourselves? For example, people commonly define themselves by their work: "I'm a teacher"; sometimes by their sexual orientation: "I'm gay"; and sometimes by their faith: "I'm a Christian". In my particular case, in the 'About me' section on this blog I said 'I work as a counsellor' and also defined myself by saying 'I am a Christian'.
I understand that we need a simple way of introducing ourselves, but I am curious about how particular labels become such central parts of our identity that they are the first things we say when we introduce ourselves, and what effect this has on us and others.
1. Labels are always a shortcut
"Hello, I'm Mark and I'm a counsellor." Even though this is true, it is not a proper identity – I am also a husband, a father, a manager, and like paddling a canoe. Does it seem to change anything if I tell you that I am also a software programmer, a bass guitarist, and a 'biker' (motorcyclist)? We seem to have moved some way from the 'counsellor' label, but even this longer description merely lists some of the things I do, rather than 'who I am'...
In using labels as short-cuts, we both avoid the complexity and miss the richness of real relating; we hide many aspects of ourselves, dealing instead with stereotypes. These simplify our dealings with each other enormously, but at what cost?
2. Labels come to define our identity; they become self-fulfilling - not just descriptive but prescriptive; they influence our behaviour.
When a label becomes a central part of our identity it can be very restrictive. A label round our neck - even if we put it there ourselves - quickly becomes very difficult to remove.
If I define myself as 'a counsellor', then I start to behave in the ways that I think 'a counsellor' should behave, which in some measure will be a false self. And to what extent am I able to put that aside when I am being a husband or a friend, etc? If I continue to act as 'a counsellor' within those relationships, I threaten those relationships as my friends expect me to be a friend and my wife expects me to be a husband; neither asked for a counsellor.
3. A label can be a way of not taking responsibility; it can become an excuse.
Just as a label encourages us to behave in certain ways, it discourages us from behaving in other ways. When my church wants someone to help with serving the coffee after service, it is too easy for me to brush off their request for help - after all, I am 'a counsellor' and not a waiter. So I have excused myself from getting involved; I am of no use to them at all.
4. Another risk of labels is that we come to believe they are true.
I am 'a counsellor' in that this is what I am employed to do, but this side-steps questions about whether I am a good counsellor, or am proficient in some areas of counselling and weak in others, or am growing in knowledge or becoming rusty as a counsellor. The simplistic identity-label allows, in fact encourages, me to ignore all such honest reflections. We come to take its truth as self-evident. If we hold a label tightly in our heart, then what are we missing and what are we avoiding?
We've seen that our labels are gross simplifications, come to define and prescribe our identity, and are something we can hide behind. Moreover, there is a risk that we come to believe in them ourselves and give them a status and a precision they do not deserve.
I have used a simple 'counsellor' label as an example. Let's apply this to two other labels, one that isn't mine and one that is.
I gave an example above of people who define themselves by their sexual orientation, e.g. "I'm gay". Does what I have written still apply? I think it does. That label is certainly a short-cut, omitting saying a great deal of other things about a person. It is a label that some hold very tightly in their heart and can come to prescribe identity and behaviour; and it is possible to believe it is 'true', so avoiding the personal history and complexities that cannot be captured in a simple straight/gay definition. (And that last phrase may begin to rankle with those for whom this is a core part of their identity ... which also applies to straight people too, of course!)
More personally, I'm interested in my self-definition in my 'About me' bio. I said I 'work as a counsellor', which is different from saying 'I am a counsellor'. However, I also defined myself by saying 'I am a Christian', so it's personally challenging to consider whether all that I put above still holds true in my identity as 'a Christian'. Yes, this is also a short-cut; it does come to define and prescribe my identity and not just describe it. It's true that I may at times hide behind the label and I may also become complacent in assuming it's truth, when ultimately it will be God who decides whether this label fits when he looks up his Book of Life. (And some Christians will begin to prickle at the notion that their Christianity could or should be questioned.)
Used as a brief introduction, labels hide more than they reveal. They carry power and influence, for ourselves and our hearers. We need to hold labels lightly, even such core-identity-labels as these two examples.
