When is Doubt Denial?

The role of faith is explicit for Christians. We are, after all, called “believers.” And Scripture repeatedly emphasizes the role of faith in salvation. For instance, Jesus said:

I told you that you would die in your sins; if you do not believe that I am the one I claim to be, you will indeed die in your sins. (John 8:23-25 emphasis mine)

Belief is not only the vehicle of salvation, without it you will “die in your sins.”

Nevertheless, even the most seasoned Christian will experience doubts. Not long ago, a couple in our church endured a hideous accident wherein their toddler pulled a pot of boiling liquid on himself. The child was scalded and, several days later, died in ICU from the burns. I must admit, this disturbed me, as it did others. I mean, how could God allow this to happen? Suffering and circumstance have a way of pushing the boundaries of our beliefs. Only a fool would deny that there are unanswerable questions, that life isn’t quite so tidy, even if God’s in the equation.

But when is doubt denial? Can Christians have doubts about their faith — at least, questions — without giving in to unbelief? And should we encourage fellow believers to think through these sticky areas, even if it means pushing them towards faithlessness? If so, at what point does doubt disqualify someone from being a Christian?

A man brought his demon possessed son to Jesus and lamented, “I do believe; help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24). This text suggests that faith and unbelief can co-exist; that I can have faith and still doubt. Then there’s Thomas. He wanted evidence and Jesus gave it to him, of course with the admonition, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:29). Perhaps the Lord tolerates unbelief when the heart is, at least, willing.

Blaise Pascal’s Pensees is one of my all-time favorite Christian apologetics. He addresses this issue of faith and unbelief often. From Section VIII, The Fundamentals of the Christian Religion, Pascal writes:

564. The prophecies, the very miracles and proofs of our religion, are not of such a nature that they can be said to be absolutely convincing. But they are also of such a kind that it cannot be said that it is unreasonable to believe them. Thus there is both evidence and obscurity to enlighten some and confuse others. But the evidence is such that it surpasses, or at least equals, the evidence to the contrary; so that it is not reason which can determine men not to follow it, and thus it can only be lust or malice of heart. And by this means there is sufficient evidence to condemn, and insufficient to convince; so that it appears in those who follow it that it is grace, and not reason, which makes them follow it; and in those who shun it, that it is lust, not reason, which makes them shun it.

It’s heady, I know. But this concept that Christianity contains “both evidence and obscurity” is interesting. Perhaps the key statement is that “. . .there is sufficient evidence to condemn, and insufficient to convince.” In other words, there’s a balance between “evidence” and “obscurity.” The believer has enough to keep pushing forward, and the unbeliever has enough to condemn him to Hell. As such, God has given us enough evidence to trust Him, but not enough evidence to make us robots.

This paradigm is exceedingly helpful to someone as anal as me.

So let me offer an illustration: A close friend gives you a map through a treacherous mountain pass. He assures you that, if you follow this map, you will reach a specific destination. He himself has followed the map and testifies of its reliability. So you begin the journey and, at a crucial point, reach a suspension bridge. It sways over an abyss and looks dangerous. But your friend has crossed this bridge and says it’s reliable. You approach it and examine the planks and the ropes. Though it is old, it appears sturdy. Also you discover a monument carved with the names of those who have safely crossed the bridge. But despite all the evidence, you still must step out onto the bridge, entrust it with your weight, and cross.

The Christian life is like that bridge: there is enough evidence for its reliability, and testimonies of those who have safely crossed. Nevertheless, you are not forced to cross it. You must still exercise faith and step out onto it. Doubts are a normal part of this journey (after all, we’re not robots and the bridge, on occasion, looks rickety). But the person who doesn’t examine the evidence and cross this bridge is not a Christian.

So, in answer to my question, When is Doubt Denial?, I answer: When it keeps a person from crossing the bridge.