Doubt as Invitation

In October of 2020 I published Doubting Faithfully: Confessions of a Skeptical Pastor -- a radical disclosure of what authentic faith looks like as an active member of the clergy. I wrote it in response to several key losses: the death of a close friend, the death of my father, and the death of my childhood beliefs. I was bitter toward Christians who had behaved poorly toward me, and resentful of life’s senseless cruelty. I was spiritually bored, emotionally exhausted, and above all, I was done with organized religion telling me how to think about God.

So I quit church without actually leaving it behind. Despite my immense displeasure with Christianity, I remained a pastor. If nothing else, I had depended on my vocation to financially support my family and to pay the bills; I mean, I owned a Master’s degree in Church for crying out loud — and my undergraduate degree in Filmmaking wasn’t any more helpful for securing secondary employment.

It’s been five years since coming out as a skeptical pastor, and I’m still employed in ordained ministry, doubts and all.

Doubt has deepened, not weakened, my devotional life with God. I don’t take anything from the Christian tradition for granted anymore. Assumptions have been discarded. Doctrinal beliefs no longer get a pass or are “grandfathered in” just because they’ve existed for centuries. Today I treat doubt as an invitational ally and as a catalyst to further my spiritual development.

Sometimes, however, doubt serves as a warning, as a blinking red light that something unsafe and untrustworthy is lurking. The key to knowing the difference between dangerous doubts and invitational doubts depends on the question. If what I am wondering about calls for enhancing my self-awareness, then I want to open the doors wide and welcome doubt in for some discernment. If, however, my uncertainty stems from something I perceive as threatening or toxic, then I want to batten down the hatches and create some distance for the sake of personal safety and self-preservation.

People who have been morally injured by religious teachings or by the behaviors of Christians and other religious-minded individuals or systems often form legitimate doubts about the efficacy of God and “God’s people.” These are instances when doubt is not invitational but a call for separation and deliverance from evil. Perhaps with time and space, victims will be able to reconstruct something useful out of their questions, but let’s be honest — that’s doubtful.

And then there are people of faith who have been told to avoid religious doubts at all costs, to shun rather than embrace their uncertainty. What a pity. There are also cynics and militant atheists who go about passionately deconstructing the Christian faith, not because they desire their own spiritual growth, but for fear or anger that it’s better to be “safe than sorry.” Both the religious and nonreligious are just as guilty of desiring to be right at all costs.

There’s a time and season for everything, of course, but the most important thing I’ve learned about doubt is that it is often our most faithful tool in the pursuit of Truth.