For years—long, miry, stumbling years—my spiritual state reflected the words of Fyodor Dostoevsky: “It is not as a child that I believe and confess Jesus Christ. My hosanna is born of a furnace of doubt.” My worship was not childlike. Every “hallelujah” felt secretly tied to a cry of “why, God?!” that I could not bring myself to voice for fear of appearing faithless to God and to others.
The book of Habakkuk was a balm. Tucked away among the minor prophets, which are difficult to appreciate unless you’re willing to devote time and study to them, is a book of someone who just doesn’t approve of the way God is handling Himself. We find Habakkuk wrestling with some of the most gut-wrenchingly raw questions in all of Scripture: “how long, o Lord must I call for help, but You do not listen?” (1:2a), “Why do you tolerate wrong?” (1:3b), among others. As the story unfolds, Habakkuk finally hears God’s answers and is able to begin the journey of seeing things through His eyes, but the journey to get there is fraught with hurt.
Notable in my mind is David, too, whose prayers I have echoed in my own life during times of tempestuous emotions. All throughout the psalms, we see David’s heart bleed as he asks God, “why are You so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning” (Psalm 22:1b) and “how long, Lord, how long?” (Psalm 6:3b). Other writers of psalms often have similar things to say, as well. Hang in there: if you continue reading David and the other psalmists’ laments, you’ll see that their questions nearly always end in expressions of faith.
Yet these are not the only people who questioned God. There are others who did the same but with different motivations. We must consider Thomas, who refused to believe the disciples’ account of Jesus’ resurrection until he touched Him with his own hands (John 20:25). And when Jesus reveals Himself to Thomas, He rebukes him, “Because you have seen Me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (20:29). Clearly, God wanted His disciples to trust what He and the others had said about His resurrection without having to prove Himself.
I feel compelled to bring Job, also, into the picture. The pages of the book of Job is a chronicle of human suffering. After being afflicted with the losses of property, family members, and personal health, Job refuses to curse God and die, as his wife suggests he does (2:9), but he certainly does question God throughout the entire book. Finally, in the climax of the great poem, God reveals His power and majesty with a mighty declaration of His power, which begins with, “Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him? Let him who accuses God answer him!” (40:1b-2). He is not about to be defamed.
In my experience, I have seen more conflicting opinions over the reading and interpretation of Job than nearly any other passage in the Bible. On a scale of, “God is outraged at Job” to “God welcomes Job’s questions,” I don’t know where I land; I’d venture to say that most of us don’t. But I do notice that there is something different in the way Job and Thomas question God vs. the way David and Habakkuk question God.
David and Habakkuk question God in order to understand Him and repair the relationship with Him. Thomas and Job question God because their faith appears to depend upon the answer He gives.
Now. What is the point of all this? What does this have to do with us? Let me tell you—but let me start with an illustration.
My husband is Japanese, born and raised in Japan except for a few years in America. I am American, born and raised in America except for a few years in Japan. The years we’ve spent living in one another’s counties certainly help with understanding one another’s cultures, but still, there are things in our cultures that the other person simply does not get. And to be honest, sometimes, the things my husband does are just strange.
For example, America is a very direct culture, communicatively. If we think or feel something, we usually say it. Japan is the complete opposite. Very little is said, and nearly everything is kept inside. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told my husband, “well, if you feel that way, why didn’t you say so a long time ago?” And there have been a multitude of times where he says, “I don’t understand why you had to say that,” after I drop a particularly honest and potentially hurtful comment.
In times like this, we have found that the best solution is to sit down, take a deep breath, and explain our cultures. As it turns out, while there are pitfalls in indirect communication, Japanese people’s general ability to keep their conflict-inducing feelings or opinions to themselves can often be helpful in maintaining a healthy group environment where everyone works towards the same vision. It’s part of the reason why Japan is such a safe, polite country to live in! At the same time, while America can often be selfish and/or hurtful with our level of authenticity, direct communication often fosters deeper interpersonal understanding in relationships and can ensure that all parties involved can feel at peace with one another after working through a conflict honestly.
The above paragraph is a topic I intend to write a whole post for, but my purpose in explaining it all is this: My husband and I would never have known these things about each other’s cultures if we hadn’t asked. I would understand him less if I did not voice my confusion with the intention of understanding him more.
Why do you keep your feelings to yourself? Well, let me tell you. Why do you feel the need to express how you feel so often? Sure, I can tell you that. Imagine how we would continue to feel hurt and misunderstood if we did not openly ask one another why we operate the way we operate. I cannot tell you how many times one of us has hurt the other before realizing that the other person’s actions are not personal but rather, a product of having grown up in their particular culture.
See, when we ask questions of one another with the intention of growing in our understanding, our questions are fruitful—and often even necessary.
Another illustration: one of my siblings is Jewish, and learning about how the Jewish faith handles questions has been largely eye-opening to me, especially considering that Jewish culture is exactly what all the Biblical examples I’ve mentioned thus far grew up and operated in. According to my sibling (and some extra research I’ve done since), most rabbis welcome learners who question their teachings. It’s not as if the learners say, “I think you’re stupid, and if you don’t prove this to me, then everything you’ve said thus far is obsolete.” Rather, questions are asked (and often heatedly so!) from a stance of wanting to know. This is the culture that David, Habakkuk, Thomas, Job, and Jesus Himself would have known.
Let’s bring this back to God.
We all have doubts. It’s not a question of whether or not we have doubts, it’s a question of whether or not we have expressed them. If you don’t think you have doubts, ask yourself: do you sin? The correct answer is “yes,” by the way. The existence of sin in our lives is proof that we all harbor unbelief in our hearts—unbelief such as, “God isn’t as satisfying as this sin,” “God doesn’t really care about what I do,” “this sin isn’t as bad as God says it is,” etc. None of us are off the hook, sorry to say. And there are a plethora of other doubts our hearts can house, as well. “God isn’t in charge of my future.” “ God isn’t good if x-y-z happens—or if x-y-z- doesn’t happen.” “God isn’t listening to my prayers.” And the list goes on and on.
In my experience, and I believe countless Biblical figures would attest to this as well, voicing those doubts in faith is the beginning of healing from them. If we insist upon keeping unbelief tucked away in our spirits, how on earth can we release it and replace it with belief?
When I say, “we should all question God,” I don’t mean, “we should all go out and look for new arguments that seem to threaten God’s existence.” What I mean is, “we already question God—our sinful lives are proof of that. It’s time to bring those questions to the surface.” Our relationship with God will absolutely suffer if we do not bring Him our honest hearts and ask Him to help us through our wrestling.
What makes the difference is whether or not we ask Him in faith. Many people turn their backs on God because He doesn’t provide a satisfactory answer to their question. But, as Jesus pointed out to Thomas, those who believe even when we do not see are blessed. Questions are only dangerous if our faith hinges upon the answering of them. Otherwise, I firmly believe our attempts to understand the heart of God bring us closer in relationship to Him.
There is one last point I would like to discuss. I’m sure Jesus would have delighted in Thomas’ belief if Thomas had not required tangible proof of His resurrection. But I think the point of that story is not only that believers who have not seen Jesus are blessed but also that the Lord had compassion on Thomas’ doubts and revealed Himself to him in response. Furthermore, while there’s no way to be 100% certain, the existence of multiple historical accounts claiming fairly justifiably that Thomas brought the Gospel to India after Jesus’ ascension to Heaven and was martyred there can show us that Thomas’ doubts were not the end of his faith, but rather, that God’s patience with him allowed him to overcome them and throw himself into the work of Christian ministry. And so, even if we find ourselves questioning God with hearts of stone, He Is kind. He provided both Thomas and Job with second chances. Even in their stubborn, self-atoning doubt, He brought them back to faith in Him. This gives me hope because sadly, many of my questions are asked in self-righteousness and not the desire to grow closer to God; the period of time I mentioned at the beginning even brought me to the point of hurling out at God, “I hate You!!” To know that God did not leave Thomas after rebuking him for lack of faith buoys my faith in times when it’s fraying. I have voiced my doubts disrespectfully more times than I can even confess, but God is still here.
In short, I firmly believe that doubt does not have to be the end of faith. I’ll leave you with the words of Gary Parker, not my own: “If I have to choose between a faith that has stared doubt in the face and made it blink, or a naïve faith that has never known the firing line of doubt, I will choose the former every time.”
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Beautiful resources for finding God in the middle of doubt and fear: The Case for Faith, Lee Strobel //If God Is Good, Randy Alcorn // The Broken Way, Ann Voskamp //Aching Joy, Jason Hague // Resenting God, John I. Snyder // If I Perish, Esther Ahn Kim
I liked the points you made about communication. I find the story of Gideon comforting. How he doubted God so much, he kept asking for miraculous signs even after he got them XD. God kept giving them to him until he was confident! God is often very gentle with us when we doubt, I think.