One of my goals in preaching is clarity – making sure that by the end of my message, what I’m saying has been clearly conveyed. Realizing of course that clarity depends partially on the one who’s hearing as well as the one who’s speaking, I work to make sure my presentation is easy to follow and understand, keeps the attention, and doesn’t try to fit in too many different ideas at once.

Sometimes I feel I do pretty well. Other times I don’t, and this past Sunday was one of those times. So what I’m doing now is trying to clarify. I apologize for not being as thoughtful about this sermon as I usually am. But I’m not taking back anything that I said. I simply want to make my own thoughts a little clearer.

So what follows is an expanded and (hopefully) clearer version of the sermon I preached on Sunday.

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Introduction – Poor Mr. Thomas

Before I read the scriptures for the message, I want to play a little game. It’s called “word association.” Psychologists use it all the time to get at our deepest thoughts, but I want to use it this morning to prove a theory.

I’m going to say a disciple’s name, and I want you to call out the first thing that comes to mind when I say it:

• Peter [responses included "steady," "denial," "foundation," "great preacher."]
• John [responses: "beloved," "faithful"]
• Matthew ["tax collector," "Levi,"
• Judas ["traitor," "betrayer"]
• Thomas [a resounding "DOUBTER"]

[Here, the scriptures were read]

How many of you have ever “doubted” God? Questioned? What were the circumstances? Look at Mr. Thomas, the disciple. He has been looked down on for centuries because of his doubt – even gaining the nickname “doubting Thomas.” And somewhere along the line we’ve picked up the idea that what Thomas did was wrong.

After all, the Bible seems pretty clear about doubt in places. James 1:6 says the man who “doubts” in his prayer is like a wave of the sea, tossed with the wind. In Mark 11:22-24, Jesus tells us to ask without doubting and anything we ask will be accomplished.

But look how lenient Jesus seems to be with those who doubt – even Thomas. Notice that all of the disciples doubted at some point, and were not convinced until they had seen Jesus face to face. And Thomas is not asking for any special proof – he’s merely asking for what the other disciples have seen, since he wasn’t there when Jesus showed up the first time. Jesus showed them his hands and side, so why can’t Thomas see it too?

“Tsk, tsk, Thomas. You should have believed all your friends – even though you know for a fact that Jesus was dead three days ago. Even though very few people in history have ever come back from the dead, you should blindly believe these men because they say it’s true.”

But can we blame him? You and I can see after the fact, but we weren’t in the garden, and we didn’t watch from afar as Jesus was paraded down the streets of Jerusalem with a cross on his back.

And then there’s the phrase that is comforting on first brush for us, but then puzzling: “blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Blessed? Exactly what kind of blessing is that, Jesus?

You’d have to be a little off NOT to doubt – look at the fantastic claims we’re asked to believe, all based on no firsthand knowledge at all! If you have never doubted, for even a moment, then you either have a supernatural gift of faith, or you might want to check to make sure you understand what you claim to be true. Paul called it foolishness for a reason – the story is almost nonsense unless you choose to look at it through eyes of faith.

Thomas was not alone in his doubt that week. At least he was sincere in his doubt, if a little stubborn. And Jesus was graceful to him and to the disciples. He knew the disciples had doubts, so he ate before them (which they considered proof that he was not a ghost). He knew Thomas had doubts, but he didn’t say, “Now Thomas, don’t you feel ashamed of yourself?” No, he simply turned directly to him and held out his hands for Thomas to see.

To me, it seems Jesus was very merciful to Thomas if doubt is really the sin we make it out to be…

Is Doubt the Ultimate Sin?

Talking about doubt is difficult for Evangelical Protestants, and I think I know why. It’s because of the atmosphere we’ve created around “faith” and “belief.”

We’ve been taught – and had it regularly reinforced – that salvation comes through “faith alone” (Ephesians 2:8-9). We’ve turned the word “faith” into “belief,” and by belief we mean this: We’ve decided that we think something is true. Despite all our better judgment, despite our faculties and senses telling us it’s difficult to believe, we’ve decided that it’s true that Jesus was the Son of God, performed all kinds of miracles, and died and raised from the dead. It’s a decision, a work of the mind and will.

And this, we think – this decision, this leap of belief that takes place completely in our minds – this is salvation, and nothing else. We call it all kinds of things: “accepted Jesus into my heart,” “invited Jesus into my life,” (both based on the image in Revelation 3:20, which I believe is taken out of context) or “gave my life to Jesus.” But the main idea is the same – “faith” is an exercise of the mind, not something we do with our lives. After all, salvation comes by “grace through faith, and not by works, lest any man should boast.”

It’s a free gift, we say. It’s absolutely simple. Just read this tract, and you’ll understand. Just pray this prayer and you’ll be saved. Just be really sorry for your sins, and then you’ll have it. It’s easy, the easiest thing in the world.

There are all kinds of problems inherent in this understanding of salvation. It creates a paradox that we just don’t want to admit or to talk about. But rather than get on that soapbox now, I’ll put my ideas on that at the end of this post (see the section marked “Postscript“).

But my point is this: In this kind of atmosphere, where “belief” is everything, the worst thing we can imagine is DOUBT. Question God? Wonder about the accuracy of the Gospel accounts? Have second thoughts about God’s goodness in light of all the evil in the world? These things seem dangerously close to damnation, so we’ve been taught (or at least told ourselves) that asking questions is a sin. Questions like that are for the pre-saved, we think. Once you’re saved, you don’t question at all – you “check your brain at the door.”

Case Studies

Job’s story makes us uncomfortable, then. What to make of this man on whom God allowed all kinds of calamities to fall (we won’t even talk about how uncomfortable that idea makes us)? I think a lot of folks have never read Job all the way through, so we’ve contented ourselves with pithy ideas without ever getting to the heart of the story – “he has the patience of Job,” we’ll say… never mind the fact that, most of the time, Job wasn’t very patient at all.

Job refused his wife’s advice to “curse God and die,” but he came about as close as you could get. He didn’t hold anything back – accused God of being his enemy, of hating him, of mocking him, of besieging him with the intent to kill. He wishes he’d never been born, and wonders why God would have created him just to be a kind of punching bag. He rants, says that no matter what anyone else may say that God is unfair, and calls the heavens and the earth to witness that God has wronged him.

All the while, his friends are trying to convince Job that he has sinned, that he brought this on himself, and that he’s wrong to talk to God this way.

And in the end of the book? If we really read it, we might not know what to expect. Maybe God will come out and reveal all the behind-the-scenes betting that was taking place. Maybe God will come out and finish Job off for being so impetuous. Maybe God will give everyone a little theology lesson in theodicy and divine motivation. Maybe God will reward these three friends who kept telling Job to keep his mouth shut.

But what really happens is surprising. First, God answers Job by saying, basically, “I am wise enough and powerful enough to have created everything in the universe. Do you really think you would understand if I told you?” And then to Job’s friends, he says, “My anger is stirred up against you… because you have not spoken about me what is right, as my servant Job has” (42:7).

What??!! Didn’t God just get onto Job for asking too many questions? What about all this stuff Job said about God being unjust, unfair, and cruel? How could God just cover over all that stuff?? This seems to fly in the face of what we’ve been taught about questioning as the ultimate sin!

And what about Moses and his constant arguing – we might even call it bickering at times – with God? Or Elijah, who accused God of ruining his life and asked to die? What about Jacob, who both literally and figuratively wrestled with God? What about Jesus himself who, in the Garden of Gethsemane, seemed to be having second thoughts about what lay ahead?

All of these people display a relationship with God in which it is OK to question, OK to doubt. As Job’s story points out, we don’t understand what God is doing most of the time, and it’s natural to have questions about that. How many people have ever asked God “Why?” in a time of crisis? How many people have ever wondered about all the miraculous events that the Bible claims?

To me, this is where “faith” takes over – NOT blind faith that says, “I’m just going to ignore all that stuff and pretend I don’t have questions.” It’s a faith that says, “I don’t understand, but I’m going to act on what I believe to be true. I don’t understand why Jesus asked me to love my enemy, or how it’s even possible, but I’m going to try. I don’t understand how God could have raised Jesus from the dead, and I’m never going to have historical proof – but I’m going to proclaim it anyway.”

It’s a faith of ACTION, not just of mind. I can “believe” all I want that humans can breathe underwater, but my mental stubbornness is not going to change the fact that I can’t. If I really “believe” it, I will ACT as though I believe it – I’ll decide to walk across the bottom of an ocean, let’s say. Belief and faith are not passive, mental things that we THINK – they are active, living and breathing things that we DO.

Doubting vs. Un-faithing

The word for “doubt” in the NT – diachrino – is relatively rare, and it’s generally used to mean to discern, judge between, or to hesitate. It’s really only used twice in reference to how we act toward God – by James and by Jesus (mentioned above), to talk about how we ask for things in prayer.

I don’t think we need to be afraid of questions and doubting. But there is something I think we need to be afraid of. That word is “un-faith.”

In the NT Greek, there is no distinction between the words “believe” and “have faith.” When you see those two words, they are the same word in Greek – pisteuo – that someone has decided to translate one way or the other.

The opposite of these is apistia – “un-faith” or “unbelief.” Between doubt and apistia, apistia is the more dangerous of the two. Apistia is the reason Jesus could not do miracles in certain places – because the people would not have faith. Apistia is the reason the disciples could not cast out demons when Jesus could. Apistia in Hebrews is the reason some people will not enter the Sabbath rest God has promised.

We need to recapture the Greek notion of faith/belief. To the Greek mind, these words “believe” and “have faith” mean the same thing – to trust in something, despite our reservations. It means to trust enough to act upon our trust. That’s how James can say things like, “Faith without works is meaningless.”

We’ve made a distinction between “having” faith in God and “acting” on that faith. We look at belief as some kind of mental exercise – like learning the multiplication tables, and we either get it right or wrong. But there IS NO DISTINCTION. Faith is not knowing just the right facts. Faith is trusting in something that may or may not seem trustworthy, and acting on that.

Some people have used the illustration of the chair to talk about faith, and it helps us somewhat. But when I came up and sat on that chair, I wasn’t exhibiting faith. I was using my senses (sight, maybe feel) to decide whether that chair was trustworthy, and I made that decision based on my senses. Now, if I’d come up, and the chair had only three legs and looked like it was about to fall over – and I decided I’d trust it enough to sit in it anyway – THAT’s faith. That’s putting my belief into reality.

The opposite of faith is “un-faith,” “unbelief” and all the things that come along with it. Fear, cowardice, refusal to act when God has spoken to us. These things are much more dangerous than asking questions.

I look at it like the story of the sons who were asked by their father to work in the field – one said “no” but went anyway. One said “yes” and did not go. Which one was obedient?

You can “believe” all you want. You can learn the multiplication tables of Christianity and have everything down pat. Theologically, you can be as solid as a rock. But if you “believe” these things and do not ACT on them – when God has called you to share his Gospel, when God has called you to minister and care for the poor, when God has called you to a closer and deeper walk with him – that’s much more dangerous than doubt. That’s flat-out “un-faith.” And if we look at the biblical stories, we find that “un-faith” is the most dangerous place we can be.

The Difference?

What’s the difference between doubt and un-faith? I think this is crucial. And to understand it, we can look at the stories where un-faith is mentioned. As followers of Christ, we enter into a relationship with God – not just a king-servant relationship, but a friend-friend relationship. Yes, God is the one, true, almighty God. Yes, God is the omnipotent creator, his ways are higher than our ways. But for some reason, that God decided he would stoop down to become one of us. And when he did, he said, “Now I call you my friends.”

When we decide to “faith” God, decide to hold onto him and to act as if his word and promises are true, we enter into a relationship of loyalty. That means we are holding onto that relationship, even when we don’t understand what the Other Party is up to. The key is the loyalty to the relationship – not loyalty to a theological construct or doctrine, not loyalty to a book – loyalty to God himself.

It’s a loyalty that says, “I don’t understand why you’re asking me to do this, and I’d love for you to explain. But even if you don’t, I’m going to do it anyway because you’ve asked me to.” That’s the kind of faith Abraham exhibited when God asked him to leave his home behind, and later to sacrifice his only son. That’s the kind of faith Jacob showed when he “wrestled” with God. That’s the kind of faith Moses showed when he “bickered” with God over the fate of the Hebrew people.

That’s the kind of faith Job showed, too. Notice the main difference in his statements and those of his friends: Even though he was angry, hurt, and confused, Job directed these feelings at God, not at his friends. Job may have said some things that were not true of God, but he didn’t go talking to his friends “behind God’s back.” He was loyal to the relationship.

It’s a loyalty that says it’s OK to question and doubt – but it’s not OK to let go.

The Good News, the Bad News, and the Good News

So, we have good news and bad news, and good news again.

The good news is that the questions are OK. We’ve seen from a few biblical characters – and could find dozens more – that questions and doubts are OK, as long as we aim them at the Source and hold fast to the relationship.

The bad news is that we’re all probably guilty of “un-faithing” sometimes, when we allow our doubts and questions to draw us away from a relationship with God. This is the very situation that Thomas and the disciples found themselves in – the word Jesus used with them is “stop un-believing and believe!” They had shut themselves behind closed doors, forsaken the teaching and instructions that Jesus had given them – they could not understand, and they had abandoned the relationship.

Like them, we have a tendency to wander from the relationship and allow our human doubts and fears to draw us away. Like them, we have a tendency to pretend faith, when we are actually too fearful to act on what we know God is calling us to do.

But there is still more Good News. Even in the midst of their un-faith, Jesus turned to those disciples and offered grace. And he offers us the same. May our prayer be that of the man who wanted Jesus to heal his daughter – “I believe… help me in my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24).

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Postscript

First in my mind is the fact that we’ve made the act of salvation a “work” once again. Somehow, we’ve convinced ourselves that when Paul said “not by works,” he meant we aren’t saved by volunteering at the homeless shelter or by going to church every Sunday. This is true, but the point I believe Paul was making was that salvation is a work of GOD, not of human beings. If we say that salvation is still dependent on our making this mental decision, we’re still saying it’s dependent on US. Think about it – even if God offers all the incentive in the world, and makes it so easy that we only have to do one thing, but we can’t get salvation until we do that ONE THING… then who does salvation depend on?

Second, if salvation is a matter of a mental decision to believe, what are the exact requirements for belief? Do we have to “believe” that Jesus was born of a virgin? Do we have to “believe” the doctrine of the Trinity? I could go on listing doctrines, but I put the word “believe” in quotation marks because to believe these things means something different to every single person. There is no list in the scriptures that says exactly what we must do – Romans 10:9 comes closest, but even that can be interpreted lots of ways. Does “confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord,” mean simply saying those words? Do you have to say them in Greek? What does it mean to “believe in your heart that God raised [Jesus] from the dead?”

Third is the fact that Jesus never said salvation or discipleship were going to be easy – in fact, he seemed intent on talking people out of it sometimes. This “free gift,” simple-as-a-prayer salvation doesn’t seem to fit with, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother, and wife and children, and brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” How is that easy? Or is discipleship not required for salvation? Speaking of which…

Finally, this idea places a separation between faith and works, ignoring the fact that 80% or more of the instructions in the New Testament are concerned with the way we live our lives if we really have “faith.” And yet, we persist in saying all that’s required of us is “to believe.” As much as no one wants to admit it, this way of thinking makes our behavior a secondary matter to this primary mental exercise of “belief.” First we have to get saved, then we start the business of works.

But what if we never get around to changing our patterns of behavior? It makes us uncomfortable to say it, but someone could be a lying, murdering thief, could stumble into church drunk one night and be “saved,” then stumble home and continue about his ways until he died. And that man would still be “saved.” We’ve come up with all kinds of ways of talking around this – “maybe he was never saved to begin with?” – but we still must admit that we believe our actions to be a secondary part of salvation… again, ignoring the fact that the vast majority of the New Testament teachings involve our behavior, not some indefinable mental condition (and Jesus’ teachings are an even greater percentage).

I don’t pretend to understand how salvation works, and neither did Paul – he always talks about it as a mystery. But I have a hard time with the idea that a sacrifice so costly to God would be so simple for us to receive and cost us nothing in return.  I don’t think Jesus died just so that we could get a free pass into heaven.

©2010 Notes From Jon. All Rights Reserved.

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©2010 Notes From Jon. All Rights Reserved.