a contemplative woman sitting on stairs
| |

The Furnace of Doubt

A pitcher of milk and a jar of honey

“It is not as a child that I believe and confess Jesus Christ. My hosanna is born of a furnace of doubt.” ~Fyodor Dostoyevski

When our oldest was little, she had epic rage/distress attacks. Years later, we would learn Tourette’s syndrome was the cause. At the time, I only knew that when she felt most out of control, she needed her mom to wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly. When she most doubted her own ability to calm herself, she felt safe held close by someone she trusted.

How many of us have felt similarly about God? Doubt is discredited in the realm of faith. We label it the opposite of faith, and often, we shun those who express it. Yet, in Scripture, we see different kinds of doubt. How does God respond when we’re feeling uncertain about our grasp on control and in need of being held? When is our doubt painful uncertainty, and when is it dangerous distrust? James and Jesus help us make that distinction:

“But when you ask God (for wisdom), be sure that your faith is in God alone. Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed by the wind.” (James 1:6 NLT)

James warns against wavering—a kind of doubt. It’s not, however, the doubt that he questions and explores. The idea here is more a hedging of bets. It’s a mindset with, as he says, divided loyalty. It says to God: I’ll believe, but I won’t trust. I’ll make provisions in case you don’t come through. Sure, you’re my Plan A, but I’ve got a B and C in my back pocket. Either way, I’m going to protect myself and cover my bases.

That’s not faith. It’s a bit like a prenuptial agreement, only with God. This kind of doubting is a lack of trust in God’s very character, and that’s why it’s a problem. If I told my husband, “Sure, I’m with you, but I’ve got a Plan B just in case you don’t work out,” I’ve got a huge issue in my relationship. This is exactly what James is saying we cannot do with God. Trust is the first necessary ingredient in a relationship. Doubt that uses God as one option in an arsenal of problem solving tools violates the core of our faith.

Doubt, however, has other forms.

For a perfect example, listen to the man whose child is dangerously, heartbreakingly possessed. He comes to Jesus, begging,

“Have mercy on us and help us, if you can.”

“What do you mean, ‘If I can’?” Jesus asked. “Anything is possible if a person believes.”

The father instantly cried out, “I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:22-24 NLT)

a contemplative woman sitting on stairs

We don’t know much about the situation or the father. I’m supposing that, like many fathers, before kids this guy had it all figured out. He was certain about everything, including his faith. Now, when his child is suffering, doubt punches him in the gut. He’s tried everything, and desperation meets its match when he throws himself at Jesus.

The father, in his doubt, reveals something important. He believes. He trusts. He knows that in coming to Jesus, he’s come to the only place of hope. Everything else, he’s uncertain of. He chooses to allow Jesus to see and hear his doubts, fears, and confusion rather than pretend they don’t exist. Then he does the only worthwhile thing—he begs Jesus to help him have the faith he doesn’t have.

It doesn’t sound like he has a lack of faith. It appears he has amazing faith, because in the middle of overwhelming fear and pain, he comes to the One who does have the answers he lacks. Doubt isn’t the opposite of faith. Distrust is. Here, the man shows he trusts in Jesus’ ability to heal not only his son but his own heart, arguably the more difficult task.

He’s there not for a transaction but for a relationship. That marks the difference between the kinds of doubt. One uses God as a tool to prop up unpredictability. The other comes to God as One who can envelop us in a great embrace of love when we feel most out of control.

Too often, the church forces us into aloneness when we doubt. It equates doubt with distrust. Most doubters aren’t distrusting God. They’re uncertain about the details, and God seems to be OK with that. In fact, God suggests we not rely too much on certainty. It’s time for the church to make doubt communal. We can choose to answer people in painful uncertainty the way Jesus did.

The beautiful thing is, the father in the story keeps moving toward Jesus. As a result, Jesus leads him not to answers, but to Jesus himself.

All of us need to be wrapped in that “Fear not; I am with you” enveloping of God at times. It’s not by chance that God puts those two phrases together repeatedly. “With” is a word that literally means all-encompassing. A warm embrace. A parent’s arms when control seems impossible on our own. We can bring our doubts to Jesus, as this parent did. He’ll heal whatever needs healing.

Scripture for Reflection

Look here, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we are going to a certain town and will stay there a year. We will do business there and make a profit.” How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? (James 4:13-14 NLT)

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? Why are you so far away when I groan for help? Every day I call to you, my God, but you do not answer. Every night I lift my voice, but I find no relief. Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel. Our ancestors trusted in you, and you rescued them. (Psalm 22:1-4 NLT)

Reach for More

Write down some doubts that you have right now. Give them a name and words. Bring them to Jesus, and ask him to help your unbelief. Relax in knowing that Jesus will never do this by scolding or shaming but in a healing, loving way. Pray and wait for the embrace that envelops you, doubts and all. Then listen to see if he asks any of the following of you:

  • Do some research to see what several experts think about your questions.
  • Ask a trusted fellow believer to talk through it with you.
  • Accept that it’s something you might never receive an answer on and that this is OK.

Jill Richardson, Contributor to The Glorious Table

is a writer, speaker, pastor, mom of three, and author of five books. She likes to travel, grow flowers, read Tolkien, and research her next project. She believes in Jesus, grace, restoration, kindness, justice, and dark chocolate. Her passion is partnering with the next generation of faith. Jill blogs at jillmrichardson.com.

Photograph © Anthony Tran, used with permission

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.