It is regrettable that much of the spiritual culture that has arisen around Christianity discourages honesty. We treat doubt as a great sin when the apostle James (in his Epistle Ch. 1, v. 3) tells us “that the trying of your faith worketh patience.” Blind faith is not a virtue; Christian faith is believing what we should believe as best we know how. Discerning what we should believe is perhaps the greatest occupation of life and an important part of the Christian’s journey. Faith is not the absence of doubt, just as courage is not the absence of fear; faith is moving beyond and acting despite our doubts when it is prudent to do so. We hear much about faith moving mountains, but the first thing that faith must move is ourselves. For faith to move us, we must look at both faith and ourselves honestly, and the Scriptures show us just how to do so.
In the Gospel according to Mark (Ch. 9, v. 14-29), we encounter a remarkable account: A man has brought his son to Christ’s disciples, and they are unable to heal him. But, despite their impotence, the man stays and waits to see Jesus himself. When Jesus finally arrives, the man doesn’t express confidence: “[I]f thou canst do any thing, have compassion on us, and help us.” When Jesus tells him that “all things are possible to him that believeth,” he cries, “Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.” And, Jesus was indeed able to heal his son. Here is faith. This man didn’t flatter Jesus or put on a show of piety; he approached Jesus just as he was—broken, afraid, unsure, in pain. This is how we all come to God: We bring ourselves to Jesus—with all of our pain and all of our sin and all our doubts and fears. We don’t approach Jesus because we have some strength but because we know that we are weak.
Faith in God does not erase our weakness; it supplements it. The Psalms demonstrate this amply. How many times they express doubt! “Will the Lord cast off for ever? and will he be favorable no more?” the Psalmist writes (in Psalm 77, v. 7-8). “Is his mercy clean gone for ever? doth his promise fail for evermore?” Eventually, the Psalmist concludes, “This is my infirmity” (Psalm 77, v. 10). He can’t rid himself of doubt; it is a fundamental part of the human condition. What he can do is change his focus (Psalm 77, v. 11): “I will remember the works of the LORD: surely I will remember thy wonders of old.” In the next verses, he reminds himself of what he believes. His faith is not the absence of doubt; it is persevering, as best he can, in his belief in the very presence of doubt. It is choosing not to be controlled by doubt or by emotion. Faith is not an emotion. Faith is a way of confronting and controlling emotion—a basic function of reason.
It is through faith we bake a cake from a recipe without understanding the difference between “baking soda” and “baking powder” or the precise function of either. It is through faith we learn the history of places we have not seen and hear stories of things we have not experienced. It is through faith we build friendships with those we have just met and societies with those we do not know. Faith isn’t something certain people have and certain people don’t. Everyone has faith. The Scriptures say faith is a gift of God (Epistle to the Romans: Ch. 12, v. 3). It’s a power we all have, one that we use every day. But faith has a higher function. It is through faith that we come to Jesus Christ and through Jesus Christ that we receive forgiveness, new life, and a hope for the future. God made a way back to himself for us, and that way is accessible to all through faith. Like the father in the story of the Prodigal Son, God is waiting for us to come back to him, not with payment, not because we are special, but through his mercy, his provision, his sacrifice on our behalf made because he loves us: Jesus Christ. Jesus said (in the Gospel according to John: Ch. 14, v. 6), “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.” The road is paved; it is by faith that we step onto it and begin our journey home.
Coming to God in faith and living by faith does not mean purging all doubt from our minds. (If such a feat were possible, it would likely be dangerous and make us vulnerable.) It is taking our doubt, our infirmity, our humanity before Christ and trusting him to bear us up when we cannot stand ourselves. “For,” says the Epistle to the Hebrews (Ch. 4, v. 15-16), “we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.” Faith is not a burden we bear, a standard we must live up to; it is the act of laying our burdens down and admitting, to God and to ourselves, that we cannot bear them alone.
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Comparing Notes 