What we see as a stumbling block can be a step toward deeper faith  

My 7-year-old son crept downstairs one night, two hours after his bedtime, and announced that he couldn ¢â‚¬â„¢t sleep because he was too scared. I quizzed him about nightmares, scary books and horror movies on TV, and received  ¢â‚¬Ëœno ¢â‚¬â„¢ on all counts. I finally asked him what had upset him.  

 ¢â‚¬ËœI was just thinking, ¢â‚¬â„¢ he said.  ¢â‚¬ËœWhat if we ¢â‚¬â„¢re all wrong? What if there is no God? What happens to us when we die? ¢â‚¬â„¢  

 ¢â‚¬ËœGreat, ¢â‚¬â„¢ I thought.  ¢â‚¬ËœExistential angst at age 7. ¢â‚¬â„¢ None of the parenting manuals cover this.  

My son – and his faith – survived his first major battle with doubt. But like all of us, he didn ¢â‚¬â„¢t survive it because I or anyone else could provide the definitive answer that would make his doubt disappear. Instead he started learning to live with it – like we all do.  

Why is doubt such a universal affliction? In some form or other, doubt seems to be a constant companion on the journey of faith. I don ¢â‚¬â„¢t know any believer whom I truly admire who hasn ¢â‚¬â„¢t struggled with it throughout their life.  

From Martin Luther to Mother Teresa (and before and beyond), Christian writers, thinkers, leaders and followers have documented the battle between doubt and trust in their walk with the God who loves us.  

Why is this? I ¢â‚¬â„¢ve often thought that if God wanted us to have no doubt, there would be at least some of us who had overcome it. There would be some models, some mentors who could encourage us with their testimony that the battle against doubt is winnable. But whether it comes in the form of wondering if God exists, or just wondering if the God who does exist really loves and calls us, doubt seems to assail every person who loves God.  

When Mother Teresa ¢â‚¬â„¢s diaries were opened after her death, they revealed her bitter struggles with doubt and with the meaning of her life, work and faith. Some of us felt torn. We couldn ¢â‚¬â„¢t decide whether we should grieve that an icon of faith and beacon of faithful witness hadn ¢â‚¬â„¢t been as strong and steady as we ¢â‚¬â„¢d always believed. Or should we rejoice that she ¢â‚¬â„¢d been able to be that beacon despite her doubts?

The latter certainly holds out more hope for our own witness and is the camp where I ultimately found myself. I think Mother Teresa would be content with that.  

Most of us are used to thinking of doubt as something that stands against faith, as an enemy and its opposite. But doubt often assails us in direct proportion to our faith. And may not be so much the enemy of faith as part of the process of deepening it.  

Martin E. Marty, ELCA pastor and church historian, writes of Luther ¢â‚¬â„¢s struggle with doubt in Martin Luther (Penguin Lives, 2004). He points out that Luther ¢â‚¬â„¢s struggle with Anfechtungen (for which  ¢â‚¬Ëœdoubt ¢â‚¬â„¢ is a rough and incomplete translation) led the Reformer to understand that while Satan may be the instigator of times of struggle, the whole problem ultimately stems from God who is, after all, the author of all things.  

Luther came to the conclusion that God uses the assaults of doubt to strip us of self-assurance. In other words, we are unable to wholly grasp the promise of God and our salvation, which saves us from the danger of placing our confidence in ourselves and our self-understanding.  

As odd as it seems, doubt serves to protect us from ourselves. When we can ¢â‚¬â„¢t trust our capacity for faith, we have to go back to trusting God and only God. Doubt keeps us mindful that salvation doesn ¢â‚¬â„¢t depend so much on our ability to hang on to God but rather on God ¢â‚¬â„¢s ability – and willingness – to hang on to us.

Doubt serves another purpose in the life of faith. If we ¢â‚¬â„¢re willing to put the energy and effort into the struggle, rather than just walk away, it can serve to keep us engaged with God. Doubt can actually help keep our faith life dynamic and growing. Despite the lack of clear and definitive answers, we can ¢â‚¬â„¢t help going back to God with our  ¢â‚¬Ëœwhys ¢â‚¬â„¢ and  ¢â‚¬Ëœwhat ifs. ¢â‚¬â„¢  

The struggle to understand and accept God ¢â‚¬â„¢s place in our lives – and our place in God ¢â‚¬â„¢s life – keeps us in a creative tension with God. Like the father in Mark 9:24 we cry out,  ¢â‚¬ËœI believe; help my unbelief! ¢â‚¬â„¢ In many ways this keeps the lines of communication open and keeps our relationship with God from becoming something we take for granted.  

Luther pointed to the story of Jacob at the Jabbok to illustrate the ways in which God can use doubt (Genesis 32). In our struggles to understand God, to  ¢â‚¬Ëœwrestle through the night, ¢â‚¬â„¢ we neither overcome our questions about God nor are we overcome by them. Rather, we are blessed and renamed in the interaction. The struggle includes tension and pain but also leads to new life. When we engage God in the struggle, God is also engaging us.  

Marty quotes Luther ¢â‚¬â„¢s  ¢â‚¬Ëœwrestling proverb, ¢â‚¬â„¢   based on the story of Jacob:  ¢â‚¬ËœWhen you think that our Lord God has rejected a person, you should think that our Lord God has him in His arms and is pressing him to His heart. ¢â‚¬â„¢  

Doubt makes it impossible for us to take our relationship with God for granted. It keeps us creatively engaged with God. It can also have an impact on our relationships with our sisters and brothers in faith. We are not alone in our struggles – our fellow journeyers are also engaged in this creative tension.  

It ¢â‚¬â„¢s inevitable and necessary that we share the conversation, questioning and struggle of the process as well. Rather than serving to break the bonds of community, sharing the struggle can become encouragement and glue.  

When we open our hearts, make ourselves vulnerable and share our struggle with doubt with each other, we open ourselves to the experiences of God ¢â‚¬â„¢s faithfulness amid the struggle that our fellow-believers have to bring to us. The fact that we are still able to serve God, to do some good, to proclaim some truth and to love one another despite our doubts testifies to the fact that God must really be with us. Which is, perhaps, the one answer we always need to hear the most.  

Melody Beckman Eastman  

http://www.thelutheran.org/article/article.cfm?article_id=5757