Doubt, generally, doesn’t have a good reputation.
It’s seen as the enemy of faith; the underminer of faith; even, finally, the destroyer of faith. And it is, at times, all those things.
James is particularly hard on doubt. ‘When you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do’ (James 1:6-8).
Double-minded is literally ‘two-souled’ – a unique word James may have coined for this purpose. It means having two attitudes toward God, seemingly trusting but actually denying, and James says such a thing should not be done. Jesus says something similar by telling us that we can’t serve both God and money (Luke 16:13).
Yet in doubt, as in faith, the object is all important. In what or in whom we put our faith (or our doubt) is what really matters. In James, what is being doubted is the goodness and generosity of God. The preceding verse says this: ‘If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you’ (James 1:5). Doubting God’s ability, even willingness, to give wisdom is a big thing. It’s a garden of Eden thing. The serpent tempted Adam and Eve to doubt God’s goodness and generosity, and they succumbed. Death was the punishment that followed.
But not all doubt is like that. Some doubt is more like uncertainty. We lack information and so we hesitate over a decision. Which film to watch, what area of ministry to serve in, whether or not to have a refugee from Ukraine to stay. Being in two minds isn’t always quite so serious.
Indeed, in some situations doubt can be positively good. When a person who is convinced there is no God or that Jesus never rose from the dead begins to doubt, it’s a really positive sign! For, as they begin to doubt their false convictions, they may become open to the possibility of saving faith in Christ. Much depends on the direction of travel. Both those moving from unbelief to believe as well as those moving away from faith and toward unbelief will probably travel through the territory of doubt at some time.
But even for the believer, a little doubting can be good for us. I think it may have been Don Carson who remarked that the faith of those who had never grappled with doubt was fragile. Like cast iron it appears hard, but is terribly brittle. It has no give, no capacity to tolerate the unexpected. So, when suffering comes, it has no capacity to bend and may simply snap.
Two implications might follow. First, doubt will, often, be a pastoral counsellor’s friend. The anxious person begins to doubt their fears; the angry person doubts the reasons for their self-righteous fury; the depressed doubts the lies their depression is telling them. Doubt is the transitory phase we move through before a new perspective, or new decision, or new way of tackling things finally arrives.
Second, we should make it easier for fellow believers to express their doubts. Being able to articulate the evangelical ‘party line’ is a poor substitute for properly thinking something through and being personally persuaded. Many in our churches have more of the former and not enough of the latter. Wrestling, for example, with doubts about whether God can be trusted in the face of ongoing illness, or loneliness, or loss brings a deepened relationship with Him – the psalmists show us that.
None of us, if we are honest, are ever far from the father in Mark’s Gospel who said to Jesus: ‘I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief’ (Mark 9:24)!
