Catalysts for Faith Crisis, Pt. 3

Have you ever used “the D word?” Depending on your faith background or tradition, this can be one of the most unacceptable dirty words of all: Doubt. Too many of us have faced a crisis of faith and turned to a friend for help—only to be met with shock and alarm, or warnings about slippery slopes. It feels easier just to keep these ideas to yourself. 

And yet, doubt is part of life—and even a healthy faith life. Experiencing doubt is not a harbinger of leaving the faith, because the foundation of following Jesus is not certainty but conviction. Faithfulness. 

And faithfulness is a long, long path that will double back several times into doubt, weaving between conviction and confusion, victory and defeat. 

Last month, I (Jason) flew 2,000 miles to see my uncle Calvin for the first time in a couple of years. He didn’t notice me at first when I walked through the door, so I was able to take him in: he was so small, sitting cross-legged on his deep brown sofa, taking up no space whatsoever. Four years of cancer had shrunk him. His hair was gone, as was his color, and all the usual layers of muscle and fat that identify a person. Truly, if I had seen him in the grocery store, I might not have known him.

I knew it would be our last time together. 

We talked about our families, about the joys and heartbreaks of parenting, and of all the hardships that follow us, even as we follow Christ. My uncle had poured his life out for others in imitation of Jesus—but that did nothing to insulate him from suffering. Of course it didn’t. It never does.

“You know, I went through a crisis of faith a few years back,” I said. And I proceeded to tell the story of how my own heartbreaks had ushered in a harsh season of doubt. All the truths I had been certain about before seemed suddenly to hang in the balance. It was a frightening time that made me question the nearness and goodness of God. I worried my questions would disqualify me from ministry, and shatter all the foundations I had built my life on.

My uncle Calvin listened the way he always did: without judgment. I considered asking him if he had ever felt something similar, but decided against it.

“But you know what I appreciate about watching you over the years?” I asked him. “It was this: no matter what you went through, you kept showing up for your family. You were faithful.”

Experiencing doubt is not a harbinger of leaving the faith, because the foundation of following Jesus is not certainty but conviction. Faithfulness. Share on X

Not Like Tinkerbell

Many of us were taught to think of faith as the rock-solid opposite of doubt. Like white-knuckling it through, no matter what. Like hitting the ball out of the park no matter what pitch we see. Heroic victory that never wavers, never questions. Never doubts. 

My co-author Catherine and I call this “Tinkerbell faith” in our book Mid-Faith Crisis. You remember the scene: Peter Pan holds a dying Tinkerbell in his hands and implores the viewers to believe. If we can just believe hard enough Tinkerbell will live! We know we can do it! We believe! We believe! 

And sure enough, the magic happens. New life comes to fruition before our very eyes, all on the basis of our ability to squeeze our eyes shut and believe hard enough. 

Many of us were born with this idea of faith. Do you believe? Do you really believe? Yes, there’s suffering in the world. There are toxic faith communities, abusive church leaders, and questionable teaching. There’s injustice and pain everywhere we look. But if we can just close our eyes and believe hard enough everything will be okay. We struggle to dismiss a nagging belief: “If things aren’t okay, I might not be believing hard enough.”

The trouble is, we can’t. No one can! Some days we can hardly get out of bed. Some days it feels like God is far, far away, or not as good as we hoped, or never bringing justice to our world mired in oppression and greed. Some days—or decades—we question everything. 

The good news is, our faith doesn’t live or die based on our energy-meter of faith day by day—and neither does God. In fact, a long and lasting faith life is likely going to go through all sorts of crises and periods of dormancy as we ebb and flow, question and wrestle, learn new things and try to incorporate them. The trees outside my window provide a far better image of faith: heavy laden with fruit one day, declining into dormancy another day, bursting back into life and flower yet another day. 

Friend, this is how life is. Imagine if we thought a marriage could only last if we felt honeymoon feelings 24/7…for 50 years. Imagine if we thought friendship, or parenting, or careers were only on track if we were 100% certain, every single moment, convinced that this was the right path, the right person, now and forever. 

We humans simply cannot sustain that level of high. We grow discouraged and confused, hit rough patches, and question everything. 

What matters is this: Do we keep going? Do we keep seeking the good road? 

Sometimes the answer is no. Sometimes we decide we need to cut bait, leave a bad situation, and find a new path. Sometimes the answer is yes: Dig deep and keep on going. Most times, the answer is somewhere in the middle: Keep going, but be honest about the trouble I am facing, while continuing to press into the work I must do to make it better. Learn the new thing. Make whole what we have broken. 

My (Jason) uncle died on New Years Day, surrounded by his wife, his children, and their children. He was one of the best men I have ever known, and I am thankful to have been able to tell him so. I don’t know if he ever went through a season of crippling doubt. Maybe he did, and he just sat with it quietly. Or maybe he shrugged off the nagging questions. Perhaps the imperfect answers that do not feel weighty enough for me were plenty solid for him. But what does it matter? It wasn’t his dealings with truth and error that made him him.

Calvin’s consistency proved his faith. The man never failed to show up, regardless of the turmoil he faced. Faith was his choice. He chose Jesus, daily. He chose to show up—to receive the love of Christ and give it away to the broken. He did it all that way to the end of his life.

This is faith: Not a solid certainty about the results, but planting our feet on the highway, taking one unsteady step at a time toward Christ and the kingdom of love. 

If you feel like doubt is an increasingly frequent companion of yours, you’re not alone, friend. And you don’t have to be afraid. 

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*Editorial Note: The first piece in Catherine and Jason’s Catalysts for Faith Crisis series, entitled “Wolves in Shepherd’s Clothing,” can be read here. The second piece, entitled “Unanswered Prayer,” can be read here.

Some days we can hardly get out of bed. Some days it feels like God is far, far away, or not as good as we hoped, or never bringing justice to our world mired in oppression and greed. Some days, we question everything. (1/2) Share on X

The good news is, our faith doesn’t live or die based on our energy-meter of faith day by day—and neither does God. (2/2) Share on X