"The worst periods of doubt for me have been when others have drilled me with questions that I can't answer."
Thanks kt. That is kind of what I was I was thinking about when I wrote this.
So lately I have found it strange that this is true for a lot of people... and it times... maybe me (although not as much in the last couple of years).
Why do we feel we have to have answers to questions? Why can't there be LOTS of questions without answers? I remember when I was in college, most of the campus ministry organizations were big on apologetics (rational arguments proving God, Jesus, the resurrection, etc). Now, there is nothing wrong with apologetics... but is there something wrong with questions?
Do we have to answer everyone's questions? Even ours? What would make us think that God will make sense?
I spoke with someone not too long ago who was afraid to share their faith (actually disciple someone) because they were afraid that the person would ask a question they couldn't answer... and they wanted to have answers to every question. WE HAVE A NAME FOR SOMEONE WHO HAS AN ANSWER TO EVERY QUESTION... and it's not complementary!
The Rabbis in Jesus' day (and before and after)... when they came upon a passage of scripture they could not understand... would celebrate! They would say, "Blessed am I... for I know that one day God... you WILL give me insight. God you are even BIGGER than I imagined!"
When I come upon a question I doubt. Arggggg!
Do you think people who are not Christ followers are expecting all the right answers? Any stories you want to share?
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3 comments:
I'll just state the obviousa nd say that I find when I respond with an "I don't know" people see it as genuine and honest. They trust me more on the answers I can give confidently.
I used to believe, in my young Christian, new to campus group, gung-ho to share my faith days, that I had to make a rational argument for every question or I would be unable to lead anyone to Christ. I believed that I had to convince my friends of the truth or they would never find it. It took me a long time to learn that the burden was not on me to "save" these people.
I think it was this mindset that led to my previously mentioned periods of doubt. I also believed that most things were pretty black and white. This led to many long philosphical/theological arguments with friends that lasted until 4am, that are still referred to as "the Great Debates." When my limited knowledge failed to convince my friends, I felt that I had failed them, and my faith had failed me. They asked questions that I had never considered and that challeneged everything I had ever believed.
At the time it was awful, but I am grateful for that experience and those great conversations. Six years later I am more tolerant of questions, and realize that most of whatI thought was pretty clear cut is often more gray. My faith has become messy and complicated. Part of me misses the simplicity. But the rest of me has decided that that was not true to life.
an entry from april:
ah, it all seems so easy. need an answer? BOOM, look it up, chapter and verse, and you're ready to go. right? riiiiight...? which doesn't explain all the schisms and splits and stalemates found in the history of christendom. yes, the bible is black and white on many matters. but between black and white there is -- inevitably -- gray. problems arise when we assume that gray is bad. that the gray must be solved. that there must be one answer, somewhere, that is definitively correct, and can be -- must be -- found within the gray.
we desire black and white; we desire straight answers. and certainly there is much about christianity that is, indeed, black and white. but gray... gray is not bad. it's just messy.
this is a life of messy faith.
the older i get, the more i appreciate the questions. you know, i once answered one of those parachurch dining hall questionnaires in college, and my roommate and a friend ended up being in charge of sifting through them. interestingly, they did this in my [our] room, as i was asleep on the top bunk, unbeknownst to them. i was half asleep and decided to keep quiet. one of the questions was something like, "how sure are you that God exists?", and i had written 99.9999%. i knew of course that this wasn't the Correct Christian Answer they were going for, and i didn't explain why i wrote it, just the 99.9999%... i was feeling a little subversive.
so they got to my survey, my answer, and i could tell they were a little perplexed. "hey, she only put 99%." "really?" "yeah. what's up with that?" "well, some people aren't 100%," as she quickly added, "but, you know... they can still be Christians." as if such an answer would betray my faith.
now, don't get me wrong: i LOVE these girls. they're amazing women. i don't fault them for anything. but i reflected back then, as i still do even now, in amazement that my .0001% of 'doubt' could be interpreted as a weakness; a chink in the armor; something to be remedied. ah, those pesky "what if"s.
as for my explanation to the 99.9999%, it has always seemed to me that leaving room for doubt is a way to find room for faith... messy though it might be.
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