Internal/External

Yesterday I was thinking about this and I wonder if I have come to a writable thought.

All of us have questions about the nature of faith and whether what we believe is true or not.  When these questions continue in our minds without some sort of action, they begin to rot and lead to decay of what we believe.  This decay leads to indecision and we become paralyzed internally - not wanting to admit that we don't have the certainty that we may have once had but not wanting to admit that things have changed.

So we look for inspiration from apologists to tell us that what we believe is worth following.

But all of this is on the outside.  These are questions that deal with whether "it" is true as if our beliefs are something that we attach ourselves to.  Is is possible that this kind of faith is no good to us because it is always evaluated.  Like a judge we are always sifting through the evidence.

Isn't the true believer internalizing the faith?  Jesus said the Kingdom of God is within us.  We act on what we believe and so it becomes true in our lives.  It becomes the truth because of how it changes us.  The reality of the Gospel is not "did it happen" but rather "is it happening inside of me?"  I mean did Jesus really do what He did so that I can comfortably put my trust in Him?  Or did He come to this earth so that I too might die to myself.

The greatest apologetic for the faith might just be how much it changes me from the inside-out.  Which, when you think of it, is much harder to put your mind around.

Do you have questions or are they doubts?

I have been mulling over what doubt really is.  Some would say it is a lack of certainty.  While that is true in many instances, it doesn't seem to encapsulate what doubt really is.  Some say that doubt is good - that in the same way that black velvet dramatically shows off the splendor of a diamond - doubt is the backdrop to our faith.  I don't know if I go for that either, however.  Yes, faith needs a doubt (in the same way that warm needs cold or high needs low) - oppositional ideas are best drawn out by their counterparts.

But if doubt is so great why does Jesus continually chide the disciples for their lack of faith?  In fact, you could say the entire Christian religion is unique in how much value it places on faith.  How can we be so content to harbor doubts?

I need to think some more about this, because I don't think that we can ever say that we have no doubts.  I think we would be lying to say that we don't have doubts.  But something may be helpful here - is it really doubt we struggle with or unanswered questions?

I am starting to think that whatever we come to believe about the world requires us to have questions and then go on to answer those questions.  If we wonder whether someone will feed and take care of us, we get that answered when our mothers call us for dinner or tuck us in bed as kids.  As young adults we wonder what our life will look like and that answer gets slowly answered over time.  We have no doubts when the question is answered, but when the answer is slow in coming the question begins to rot and becomes doubt.

So I wonder if doubt is just a fermented question.  The question we have not answered. Maybe we are too tired, apathetic or scared to seek it's answer.  Doubt does not mean that there is uncertainty out there, it means that there is uncertainty within.

How do we get rid of doubt?

Face the question.  Answer it.

10 Doubts that we should begin to doubt.

   When I was growing up we had children's church in the basement of our church.  We'd hear the organ groan over top of Mrs. Sealey's rendition of "Onward Christian Soldiers" banged out on the piano by Uncle Harvey.  If you were under 6, it was a cool place to be . . . we celebrated birthdays every week by having the person whose birthday it was come up and count out pennies into something that looked like a plastic cake piggy-bank.  I don't think I got why we were paying for our birthday, but it was cool to have them light a candle on the plastic cake and Uncle Harvey play "happy birthday to you" on the piano.


  Ah, the days of flannel graphs and felt banners (for some reason it was all the rage at my church to cut outlines of Bible characters and glue them onto burlap and call it a banner).  We were Episcopalian so being in children's church was a short step away from being an acolyte or altar boy (I can't wait to tell you how bad I was at that).

  Well anyhow, it is a wonder how any of us took the Bible stories seriously when none of our questions got answered.  I remember having serious questions like, "what about all those people who don't read God's book?"  and "how do we know the Gospel writers didn't all just get together and map out this 'story' as a creative hoax?"  I am pretty sure I didn't use a word like "hoax" at 6 years old, but I remember frustratingly trying to get my question across to my Sunday school teacher and her completely missing the point.  Now to be fair, I am sure at 6 years old I wasn't the most clear communicator and maybe Mrs. Sealey was just ready to go home and watch football.


  The problem with so many of us is that these experiences are all we have of asking honest questions about faith.  We have memories of being given pat answers or frustrating attempts to just get our questions out.  Over time, these memories serve as barriers to faith and we think that maybe faith is for the kind of people who don't have questions.  This is completely untrue.  


   Do you realize the name "Israel" means one who wrestles with God?  Read the Psalms - any one of them - sometime.  Tell me that the ancient Jews weren't like, "hey - answer me on this one, God! I want answers!"


   The truth is that there are answers to our doubts . . . if and only if they are really questions that we have.  So many people I know use their questions as tools of disengagement.  Because they have a question it becomes the way to slam the door in God's face.  What a weird thing to do - a question becomes the beginning to an open-minded exploration of what may or may not be true.  In short . . . let the question become a way to understanding rather than an obstacle.


   In the next few weeks we are going to look at 10 of these hurdles.  On Tuesday the 1st question will be "Isn't the Bible just a collection of myths?"  Check out the video to the right and meet me back here on Tuesday to explore this question together.  Have a great weekend!  

Doubt your Doubt.

My experience is that most people have a particular way of looking at the world or set of beliefs that inform the way that they live . . . and then there are the doubts.  Everyone has doubts.

These doubts are usually lurking somewhere far beneath the noise and busyness of our lives.  Perhaps that is why we love to be entertained so much – so that we don’t have to deal with the deeper questions.

Doubts come in many forms and it they usually creep in at night.  I have a friend who is an atheist who has flickers of hope that there is a God.  It teases him from time to time, but not enough to do anything about it.  On the other hand, there are those who are very public about their beliefs while nursing very private doubts about God’s existence.

We all have questions about the certainty of our beliefs.  And doubts can be a  powerful thing . . . corrosive even.

So what if instead of running away from our doubts, we exposed them to the same scrutiny as our beliefs?  What if we (literally) doubted our doubts?

This is the business of true skeptics – not just doubting a particular belief.  Just doubt alone is the choice to join a particular path of belief.  True skepticism doubts everything – even the place from where he doubts. 

Take a few minutes and read some of the entries on this site and see if you are a true skeptic - ready to re-think what you believe.

Three Things I Know . . . and One I Don't

Faith is a tricky subject.  It inflames passions and gets people riled up.  It often winds up making people feel judged.  We almost never talk about it unless we are arguing . . . which makes it the sacred ground of the experts or the kooky.  


As a result, people keep their faith private . . . and as a result of that, the faith that grows inside of us never gets to see the light of other people's thoughts.  So weird things grow in the musty dungeon of our hearts.  It comes up for air a few times a year - at funerals or around Christmas and then it runs back down to the darkness of our innards.  


I have heard some really strange things from people.  Businessmen, single moms and school teachers alike - they all develop their faith in the confines of their heart for fear of someone making them feel judged.  


As I get the chance to talk with people, these stories come out.  One man I sat on a porch with at the shore tried to convince me that it was Jesus' mastery of tantrism that enabled him to slow his heart rate down to appear dead and then roll the stone away and flee for safety.  I was most intrigued by this theory and really wanted to know where Jesus went next.  He had no answer.  I mean, you try carrying out the biggest hoax of humanity and then trying to figure out where you spend retirement.  


There was another guy I talked with who just felt that we transcend ourselves at death.  I pressed him for what that means, but all I got was the T-word.  I guess to transcend yourself means that you somehow rise in the air?  I think he was more enamored with the word 'transcend' than he was the idea of resurrection.


I also remember working at one time for a man named 'Gus' who owned a Greek pizza shop.  His real name was over five syllables but everyone called him Gus.  When he found out that I was studying theology he made it his pet project to try to convert me to a way of thinking that was not just unorthodox, but actually a little perverted.  I don't think we need to go into too many specifics, but lets just say that I tend to stay away from Greek pizza shops.  I know, its culinary profiling, but I am human.


All this is to say that I think everyone has theories about faith and what to think about God.  It is a shame that we live in an era in which we keep it to ourselves, though.  Not only do weird things grow in the slime of the ill-informed theological swamps of our souls, but we don't get to help each other grow as spiritual people when we are so individualistic.


A lot of the impetus behind keeping faith so private has been the battleground between faith and logic.  Scientific skeptics face off against faith-minded apologists and it may be a lot of fun for them as they play word games or intellectual ping-pong.  For the rest of us, we become collateral damage as we are forced to align with one side or the other.


Or do we?


I say that there is a third way - a spiritual perestroika that can enable us to embrace our intellect and our faith.


So in that spirit - here are three things I know:  (I actually think I know more than this, but this is some of the better stuff).


1.  I know that there is a God.  


I know that there is a God because of all the motion around me.  Yes, I have three kids, but I am speaking of a different kind of motion.  The philosophers called it "prime mover" - I know that there had to be something that put this entire universe in motion because . . . this entire universe is in motion.  Aquinas and Anselm said it so much more eloquently (with assistance from the likes of Aristotle) but I will summarize the thought by saying that everything goes back to a first cause.  A ball in motion was put in motion by a foot kicking it.  It does not decide on its own to roll.  Similarly, the motion of the planets and stars indicates that we were all set in motion by someone.  To those of you who say that it was an incredible explosion that started it all, I am certain you are correct . . . but you have said nothing substantial.  Imagine sitting in a concert hall listening to a beautiful piano concerto.  Someone asks, "where did all of that beautiful music come from?" If you point to the keys on the piano you are right . . . sort of . . . but you have missed the point.  




2.  I know that this God is described of accurately in the Bible.


Of all the ancient works - the Bhagavad Gita, Qu'ran, Dao De Jing - you name it, there is nothing that has the same degree of historical attestation as the Old and New Testaments.  Geza Vermes, one of the most renowned Egyptologists (and not a believer, as far as I know) has remarked that the preservation of the Old Testament is nothing short of miraculous.  As a historical witness it is unparalleled among religious works.  As a document that continues to exhibit head-scratching self-deprecation, it testifies to its reliability as a book that tells the truth regardless of the outcomes.  From the exposing accounts of morally-challenged leaders like David to the attention to honest detail in the New Testament including shepherds hearing of the birth of Christ and women witnessing His resurrection; the scriptures paint an accurate picture - warts and all.


3.  I know that the Biblical ideas are divinely inspired.


The Bible is full of (what we would call) ridiculous ideas.  A God who creates from nothing, with nothing, from nowhere.  A Son of God who is fully divine and fully human.  Grace as an ethic.  These are absurd when viewed from a rational perspective.  But that is exactly what encourages me about their divine authorship.  When I look at two ideas - one is completely logical and the other is wild and weird - the one that does comport with reason looks suspiciously like it may have come from the human mind.  On the other hand, those things that seem ridiculous exhibit signs of something from somewhere else.


Okay - so there are three things that help me place an address on what I think and believe.  But it is the thing that I don't know that is most compelling.  


Since I am human and I have limits that are set on the things that I can see and sense and reason, I have to arrive at the conclusion that there are things outside of my present understanding that exist.  In fact, if you take philosophers like Kant or James seriously you have to think that there are things that are not just unknown to me, but things that I purposefully 'tune out' because I am not able to 'make sense' of them.


Okay, okay - for the less philosophically minded.  Basically we are all creatures that love to see what we want to see.  Faith has had that charge leveled at it for centuries.  The same is true in our daily experiences.  Sometimes we see things that aren't there (optical illusions) or we hear things that weren't said (try talking with people about song lyrics).  Chances are that you cn read ths sntnce bcuse your brain is trned to look for pttrns among thngs evn whn thse thngs are mssing.  We are creatures that look to fill in the blanks - we project what we think ought to be onto the world around us.  This is the same for logic.   Logic is not 'in the world' - it is in our minds - it is a way of looking for patterns that has a hard time with things like faith.  


The fact that faith eludes reason does not make me doubt faith - it makes it more real!

Doubt your Doubt. The halfway argument.

"I'm having doubts"


"About what?"


"About my faith . . . I mean, is it real?  How would I know if it was real or if I just want to believe the stuff that I say I believe in?"


"Why would the fact that you want to believe in it mean that it can't be true?"


"Because maybe I am just engaging in wishful thinking . . . perhaps my desire to believe in something is causing me to see things that really aren't there?"


A lot of us have had similar conversations about faith with people who aren't sure what they believe.  Maybe you have had an internal conversation like that with yourself. 


These are truly deep thoughts - the kind of reflection that we should have on a regular basis to make sure that we are not treating our beliefs like an intellectual candy store.  We should not let our desires dictate what we believe or don't believe.  There needs to be a healthy dose of skepticism that we subject our faith to in order to have depth as believers.


It is fascinating, though how incomplete it is.


I have met many people who almost seem to want a pat on the back for being skeptics.  Like having doubt is some kind of accomplishment.  


"I'm not sure what I believe . . . I have lots of doubts about what Christianity offers."


Well good, as you should . . . but don't stop there mister.  Skepticism, the healthiest kind is a 360 degree endeavor.  So many people who have doubts stop with the acquisition of doubt.  Skepticism is not a point we reach, it is the manner in which we arrive at the truth.  


To successfully arrive at the truth means that we have to have a healthy doubt about everything - including our doubts.  True skepticism is reflexive.


Unhealthy skepticism is when we stop doubting.  There are many 'skeptics' of the faith who are merely dogmatists.  They have doubted certain ideas, conveniently neglecting to subject their own assumptions to the same doubt.  In order to be a real skeptic, we should doubt our doubts.