The benefit of the doubt

There is a story from the Gospel of Mark in which a man comes to Jesus and asks him to heal the man's son. Jesus says to the man, "If you believe, all things are possible." The man does not respond with some canned, cliche platitude you might find slapped on a mug in a Christian store. Instead, the man gives an honest and complex answer: He begins to weep and cries, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:23-25).

Sometimes religious people have the bad habit of treating doubt as if it's some sort of disease. Or worse, they can often treat it as some sort of deficit in one's moral, emotional or spiritual character. The truth is that doubt can be what makes faith real, doubt can lead to a mature faith, and doubt can be what helps us to be more honest with what we genuinely believe.

In 2007, 10 years after her death, a book was released that detailed many of the private prayers of Mother Teresa. The book did not reveal a woman who clung to a handful of pithy, Sunday school sentiments. Instead, the book showed us that Mother Teresa, this woman who stared abject poverty and emaciation in the face every single day, had doubts. Mother Teresa, like a normal person, wrestled with her own questions, doubts and struggles. If Mother Teresa (who soon will be canonized) could be honest about her uncertainty and yet still swab leprous wounds, feed distended bellies and wet parched throats, perhaps there is hope for me in the midst of my own doubts.

One of the most influential theologians of the 20th century was a man named Paul Tillich. His most compelling quote is this: "The opposite of faith is not doubt; it's certainty." As a pastor, I have had to learn that my job is not to be somebody who serves as an answer dispenser or who clears up all the mysteries of the scriptures. Instead, my job is to love and care for people in the midst of their walk with Christ. Sometimes that may involve providing answers, but most of the time it involves simply providing a safe, non-anxious space for people to ask heartfelt and honest questions.

A few years ago, a friend of mine and I met at Starbucks. He told me he had decided to walk away from faith. I asked him to describe for me the kind of faith he was walking away from. He described for me a dogmatic, black-and-white, turn-or-burn kind of faith. I thought for a moment and I said, "If that is your only notion of what constitutes faith, I would be walking away, too." I then began to share with him about the love of Jesus, about how faith does not mean we have to abandon our pursuit of science and knowledge, about how faith is not meant just to save us from something, but also to save us toward something. That friend now is in his second year of seminary and he has a vibrant, strong faith that propels toward seeking God's justice and love in our world.

In an odd way, I am thankful for the doubts and questions I can still continue to wrestle with. They help me grow closer and to fall more in love with Jesus.

Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!