Hey Chaplain, I Have Doubts

The men and women I speak with don’t always share my beliefs.  If I had to guess, I’d say less than half of them do.  Several harbor serious doubts about faith in God—which, of course, is the basis for my worldview.  Still, they come anyway.

In the military, people come to a chaplain with two overlapping motives: (1) they’re stuck in a season of discomfort, hoping we can help them move along, and (2) they know we’ll keep their secrets.  In other words, they trust us to make life better.

Ironically, that’s precisely my position toward God: I trust him to make life better. 

Anything I have to offer is going to flow out of my belief system.  I’m clear about that up front: I’m not a psychologist or a social worker.  Chaplains are caretakers of the soul.  Our hypothesis: healthy spirituality is the basis for health in all areas of life.

Many welcome that.  A few tolerate it.  Others turn the discussion toward doubt itself: “I would like to believe, but a stubborn set of doubts stands in the way.”  I love the honesty required to say something like that, so I wrote this article.

I have a special place in my heart for doubters.  Mostly it’s because I am one myself, and I know the pain that comes from uncertainty about life’s biggest questions.  I suppose I’m writing this partially to soothe my own pain.  I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t there.  It is.

But, I believe God is there too.  So, my soul is engaged in an ongoing faith-vs-doubt conversation with Him.  Feel free to listen in—or, if you’re so inclined, join the conversation with public comments or private messages. 

If you do, I ask two things: be honest and be kind.

People are often surprised (and probably disappointed) to discover chaplains have doubts.  We do. 

Stephen Colbert coined the word “truthy” to describe the slick way politicians speak. [1]  It works for preachers too.  In an effort to portray heroic faith, we make big truthy statements like “Just believe and everything will be great.  You can have your best life now!” 

I hate truthy.

I find it arrogant when people on either side of this topic act as if any reasonable person would, of course, agree with them.  Believers portray skeptics as immoral and closed-minded.  Doubters label believers as judgmental and irrational.  It’s not that simple. 

We all have believing and doubting inside of us.  I want truth in my life, so I have to doubt.  I cannot live without hope, so I have to believe. [2]

In my experience, people’s doubts—yours and mine—generally fall into two categories[3]:

1. Is it worth it?
2. Is it true?

If you’re not asking this question, you’re doing it wrong.  Or, maybe you just weren’t listening:

• Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it…” (Matthew 16.24-25)
• Jesus replied, ‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ (Matthew 22.37)
• But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! (Matthew 5.44)

Those expectations should raise serious doubts for anyone considering Christianity: “How will this affect my lifestyle, finances, career options, relationship with others, etc.?”

The short answer: a lot. 

It’s only rational to pump the brakes and ask: do I really want to do this?  Are those changes worth it?  Jesus encouraged people to ask these questions before committing to him (Luke 14.25-33).

Doubts in this category are more objective:

• Does science disprove the Bible?
• Is Jesus God, or are the Muslims right?
• Can God really change my life?

Writers smarter than me have addressed those issues.  You’re better off reading/listening to them directly.  Here’s a list of the ones who’ve helped with some of my doubts.  Unfortunately, nothing on that list has changed my view of Jiminy Cricket.

My doubts tend to fall in the “Is it true?” category.  Some of them have been resolved; others remain open like a faulty app running in the background.  They bog me down—sometimes harmful, always tiring.  If my doubts had a mascot, it would be Jiminy Cricket.

When my sister was 22 she died of cancer.  Just before she died, our family was given an all-expense-paid trip to Disney World by one of those “Make a Wish”-type foundations.  I was in the Army then, so Hannah and I flew in for the trip, meeting everyone in Florida and flying straight back to California afterward.

On the last night of the trip, we rode the ferryboat from the Magic Kingdom back to the parking lot.  The nightly fireworks show was erupting over the park—complete with Jiminy Cricket’s commentary about wishing on a star to make your dreams come true.  I spent that whole ferry ride praying God would come through with a cure.  My sister died a few weeks later.  I never saw her alive again.  I hate that damn cricket.

More to the point: that cricket represents everything I hate about this world.  What’s the point of things like cancer, concentration camps, loneliness, and sex offenders?  Isn’t it true that God could stop all that?

Before all of the Super Christians chime in with platitudes, let me just say: don’t. 

Save it. 

For years after Crissy’s death, I often thought, “If one more person uses the phrase ‘in a better place,’ I’m going to punch them in the throat.” 

I’m a trained theologian, so I know what the Bible says about all of this stuff. [4]  I can spew clichés with the best of them.  But, none of that helps when the pain is your own.  The app keeps running.  I have doubts.

Doubt leads to confidence

When the Catholic Church was considering someone for sainthood, they used to hire a lawyer to argue against the person’s credibility.  He was called the “Devil’s Advocate,” and he was charged with doubting the validity of their claim to the title ‘Saint.’  The process was meant to instill confidence in the final decision.

The “devil’s doubt” is a prerequisite for comfort and confidence. [6]  Blind faith won’t get you there.  You have to wrestle with doubt to be comfortable your faith is properly placed. 

This is the process you follow every time you learn something new.  Whether it’s a foreign language or a musical instrument, being honest about what you don’t know is the first step to becoming confident.

Doubt keeps us humble

Humility is an important byproduct of being honest about my doubts and limitations.  Some people would be better believers if they had a little more doubt. 

Doubt keeps me humble by reminding me of something I’m prone to forget: I’m not God.  Religious fanatics always lack this flavor of humility.  It’s the reason I’m suspicious anytime someone claims to have “a message from the Lord.”  Ironically, those messages always seem to work in their favor.

If you want to doubt, you’ll always find a way.  Doubt that leads to healthy skepticism is a good thing.  Doubt that leads to cynicism is a dead end.  Skeptics sincerely want truth.  Cynics just want to argue.

Cynics would rather appear right than risk trusting anyone.  Armed with readymade conclusions, cynics doubt the motives of everyone in their life.  Consequently, they struggle with meaningful relationships and rarely experience joy.

The benefit of cynicism is that you get to be right whenever you want.

The cost of cynicism is intimacy, the warmth of knowing and being known by someone else.  Intimacy requires trust—something cynics aren’t willing to do.

The point I’m trying to make is this: faith and doubt are not mutually exclusive.  One never replaces the other.  We always have both inside of us. 

Faith is easier to recognize if we know what it is, but first let’s say what it’s not.

Faith is not a force or cosmic power for getting whatever you want.  That’s called magic.

The idea that faith allows you to arm-wrestle God into submission is not only wrong—it’s toxic.  Yet, many “prosperity preachers” proclaim the power of faith to give you “health, wealth, and happiness.”  Someone once told me my sister died because she didn’t have enough faith.  He’s lucky punching people is illegal.

Faith is also not the default method of “filling in the gaps” between what we know and what we don’t know. [7]  That’s “blind faith,” and it works until you’re about six-years-old. [8] 

After that, “Because I said so” doesn’t cut it anymore.  We want explanations.  Our minds crave certainty.

However, many (most?) of life’s important decisions have to be made without 100% certainty.  If I had to know “everything would turn out ok” before getting married, having kids, or joining the Air Force, I would have never done those things.

It turns out life is an exercise in strategic uncertainty.  You resolve your doubts as much as possible, then you make a leap of commitment.  

That is the essence of faith: strategic leaps of commitment.

Almost 16 years ago, I trusted my wife would be a good spouse.  I didn’t have evidence to prove my theory, but I did have good reasons to believe this.  So, we made a strategic leap of commitment.  The only way to be certain I’d never get divorced would be to never get married.

The only path to certainty about God’s existence is death.  Once I pass through that door, I’ll know for certain.  Until then, I research my doubts to determine which “strategic leap” makes most sense. [10]

I want to be clear about this next point: Christian faith means placing trust in a person—Jesus.  “Jesus is who he said he is” is the central message of the Christian faith.  Everything else is subordinate to that one, essential truth.

Christianity is not faith in the Bible, or the church (other believers), or answered prayers. Christianity is faith in Jesus.  I have yet to see anyone walk away from Christianity for reasons central to Christianity.  I’m passionate about this.  In a separate article, I argue:

“If you’ve been hurt by The Church or are struggling with parts of The Bible (especially the Old Testament), then I want to remind you of one simple truth: those things are not what God is asking you to believe in anyway.  Jesus is.”

We all have faith in something.  It’s not possible to prove or disprove God’s existence.  A decision to believe or not believe is a decision based on faith. 

I don’t expect anyone to “convert” on the basis of that simple argument. [11]  I just ask you to be honest about the source of your doubts and the objects of your faith.

In the ninth chapter of Mark, there’s a story about a father trying to get help for his son.  Desperate, he asks Jesus to “help us if you can.”  Jesus takes issue with the word ‘if’ and tells the man “anything is possible if a person believes.”  The father replied, “I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!”

I love everything about this story, but the part I love most is the father’s honesty.

We all have a degree of ‘if’ in our hearts.  We wonder:

• If God is there
• If God can help
• If God wants to help
• If God loves me
• If God knows what I did and loves me anyway

The father’s ‘if’ didn’t turn Jesus away.  Neither do yours.  Our ‘ifs’ don’t need to cause shame or fear, and they don’t have to separate us from God.

The best way to deal with an ‘if’ is to utter the doubter’s prayer: “help me overcome my unbelief.”  When you doubt, pray that prayer. 

Then, trust small.

To be a Christian is to believe Jesus was not wrong.  When he said he was the way to heaven, he wasn’t wrong about that.  When he said he was God, he wasn’t wrong about that either.

But, Jesus didn’t only talk about “heavenly stuff.”  He also said a lot of things about daily life.  Christians think he was right about that stuff too.  If you’re not ready to commit to the heavenly stuff, try trusting him with something small. 

Is life really better when you:

• Replace hate with love? (Luke 6.27-28)
• Treat people the way you want to be treated? (Luke 6.31)
• Show compassion? (Luke 6.36)
• Focus on giving instead of receiving? (Luke 6.38)

Try one and find out.  In my experience, following Jesus’ teaching has made me a better human.  I enjoy people and laugh more frequently.  It helps me worry less and serve others a little more.  Life still hurts, but I don’t panic quite so much.  I’m in no hurry to die, but the idea doesn’t keep me up at night.

If you’d rather not see things this way, ok.  I still hope you experience more peace than problems in your life.  Regardless of where you land on the topic, please be kind to those who doubt.

From the Fray,
-bill

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Find the Entire Hey Chaplain Series Here

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[1] See: https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/truthiness-meaning-word-origin

[2] John Ortberg unpacks this well in his book Faith and Doubt (Zondervan, 2008).  I’m indebted to him for the logic behind much of this article.

[3] I first heard Andy Stanley offer this caftegorization in his sermon “Atheist 2.0.”

[4] There’s an entire field devoted to the question of evil.  It’s called theodicy.  Look it up if you want, but it won’t make you feel better when Jiminy Cricket arrives.

[5] CS Lewis, Broadcast Talks (London: Centenary, 1942), book 5, chap. 1, p33.

[6] In his award-winning book “The Genesis of Science,” Oxford physicist James Hannam credits the Medieval Church as a driving force behind the Scientific Revolution.  Curiosity over God’s “natural laws” led the church to be the “leading sponsor of scientific research prior to the French Revolution.”

[7] This is commonly referred to as the “God of the Gaps” argument: when believers are faced with a phenomenon they can’t explain, their go-to answer is “God did it.”  I’m not comfortable with this approach for many reasons; detailing those reasons are beyond the scope of this article.

[8] The Bible never tells us to have “the faith of a child.”  In Matthew 18.1-4, Jesus addresses a prideful argument by commending the humble faith of a child.  He was not calling the disciples to abandon logic or critical thinking.  Rather, he was encouraging a selfless concern for others that trusts God to meet their needs. 

[10] This argument is commonly called Pascal’s Wager, named after the 17^th Century mathematician Blaise Pascal, who is credited with popularizing the rationale.

[11] This article is not an attempt to “talk you into believing.”  I don’t believe anyone can (or should) do that.  As I stated at the beginning, this article is meant to convey the “faith vs doubt” conversation ensuing in my own soul.