Doubt-full?

Hebrews 12:1-3

January 21, 2024 • Mount Pleasant UMC

One of the places we visited this fall on our New England trip was the 9/11 Memorial in New York City. Mostly we were taken on a driving tour of the city, but at the 9/11 Memorial we were able to get out and walk through the outdoor part. It’s a humbling, moving experience to be there, and as I walked through it I was remembering the day the towers came down. I remembered watching the news coverage, being almost unable to turn it off, and seeing the rubble for months afterwards. I kept wondering how in the world they would ever get all of that rubble cleaned up. Obviously, they did, because the plaza now is a beautiful yet sobering place in the midst of a busy, dirty city.

Two weeks ago, we began this series of sermons looking at how we find faith in the rubble of bad religion. It’s true that when the things you held onto, the things you have believed, come crashing down, it can feel like a pile of rubble and you may wonder how you are ever going to get it cleaned up, if you can ever find your way out of the mess. As I told you then, 40 million American adults find themselves in the rubble today. There are 40 million people who once went to church but no longer do; it’s been called “the great de-churching,” and it affects congregations large and small, urban and rural, denominational and not. There are as many reasons why people have decided they are “done with the church” as there are people who have made that decision. So here at the beginning of the year we’re trying to look at some of those reasons and consider how our faith might respond. And what we want to look at today is as old as time itself, because some people have walked away due to doubt (Davis & Graham, The Great De-Churching, pgs. 3, 107).

Very often, when we mention the word “doubt” in church settings, our thoughts immediately go to one of Jesus’ disciples, who has unfortunately been nicknamed “Doubting Thomas” all throughout history. He got that name because of a single incident after Jesus’ resurrection. Thomas had seen Jesus die and he knew that dead men don’t come back to life. And Jesus had not only been killed, he had been brutalized and tortured, crucified on a Roman cross. No one comes back from that. No one ever had before, anyway. Unfortunately, when Jesus first appeared to the disciples, Thomas was not with them. Maybe he had gone on a walk to clear his head, we don’t know. We do know he had to wait a week until Jesus showed up again, and in that time he had said, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). Now, you see, I don’t hear that as doubt. I hear that as someone who just wants proof, and actually, he just wants the proof that the other disciples already have been given. And, a week later, when Jesus does appear to him and offer him the opportunity to do exactly what he asked to do, Thomas doesn’t. When he sees Jesus and hears his voice, he doesn’t touch the scars and he doesn’t examine the nail prints. Instead, he immediately responds, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:27). If there was doubt in Thomas’ life during that week, it was actually a healthy doubt, a doubt that spurred him on to faith.

Anglican Bishop Todd Hunter once called together a diverse group of peopled asked them: what are the questions you have that make you doubt your faith? He said he did not have to do much to keep the conversation going; questions poured out of these folks and he wrote as quickly as he could. One man said he didn’t know what to think about issues of human sexuality, but the thing that really made him struggle was the hateful rhetoric around the topic. The man wanted to be “biblically orthodox” and “loving at the same time.” Another man piped up and said he felt that holding to Biblical morality made him a “bigot” or a “hater.” He asked, “If I insist on Christianity being the only right way, isn’t that elitist, judgmental, and proud?” Others felt like Christianity had become a source of destruction in the world rather than healing. One other man talked about his questions around the practice of prayer. Why is there so much suffering in the world despite the fact that people pray for an end to war, terrorism, and suffering every day? He told Bishop Hunter, “I invested in my kid. I did all the right Bible and churchly things, but he is still an addict and continues in his destructive behavior” (Hunter, What Jesus Intended, pgs. 164-166). Those questions are not uncommon; you’ve probably heard most or all of them before. You may have seen them splashed across various forms of social media. You may even have some of those questions yourself; I’ll confess that I have wrestled with these same questions, those same doubts.

And here’s one big thing I want you to hear this morning: that’s okay, and in many ways, it’s normal. Listen to me carefully, please: doubt is not the enemy of faith. It’s not. Doubt is actually “the raw material from which genuine confidence in God is created” (Hunter 166). Jesus never once condemned doubt. He didn’t say to Thomas, “Oops, sorry, you doubted, so therefore, you don’t get to be a disciple anymore.” Not at all. He even offered Thomas the proof to overcome his doubts. A little bit later, before Jesus returned to the Father, he gathered all of his followers on a mountain in Galilee to give them what we call “the great commission,” the same commission that still directs what we do as a church today. These disciples are standing in the presence of the resurrected Jesus. They are hearing him tell them what he wants them to do. And this is how Matthew describes it: “When they saw him, they worshipped him; but some doubted” (Matthew 28:17). The word Matthew uses there basically means to hold two thoughts together, two contradictory thoughts. So likely these folks on the top of the mountain are thinking, “There’s Jesus. But that can’t be Jesus, we saw him crucified. But he’s standing here. But he can’t be standing here because he’s dead.” Or something like that. They worshipped, and they doubted.

Those stories (and others like them in the Scriptures) should affirm for us that doubt is not the enemy of faith. Just because a person has doubts doesn’t mean they have lost all faith. In the Scriptures, the enemy of faith is unbelief, not doubt. Here’s how theologian Frederick Buechner describes it: “If you don’t have any doubts, you are either kidding yourself or asleep. Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith. They keep it awake and moving.” I almost called this sermon “Ants in Your Pants,” and right now I don’t know why I didn’t. But anyway…

Doubt might be called faith’s “ever-present companion.” Buechner suggests there are two types of doubt, the first being “doubts of the head.” These are the thoughts, the questions, the things that we ruminate over in our minds, the things we think about and the challenges others throw our way. When we let those thoughts go on and on, there isn’t much we won’t come to doubt, to question. And yet, much of the time, we just go on like nothing has changed. Unless the doubts have to do with our faith. Those can wreck you if you let them. Billy Graham learned that early on in his ministry. He was preaching at a camp called Forest Home in California, but he came there worn out and weighed down with questions. A good friend of his, Charles Templeton, a man who had once been a preacher himself, had decided that education rather than Jesus offered the hope for humanity. He began to challenge Billy Graham and question the authority of the Bible. Graham was wrecked. He continued to preach, but the doubts kept coming. Finally, one night while at the camp, Billy Graham took a walk in the woods. As his mind wrestled with all the things he had heard, he stopped and put his Bible down on a tree stump. He prayed, “O God! There are many things in this book I do not understand. There are many problems with it for which I have no solution. There are many seeming contradictions. There are some areas in it that do not seem to correlate with modern science. I can’t answer some of the philosophical and psychological questions Chuck and others are raising.” Then, Billy Graham fell to his knees and said, “Father, I am going to accept this as Thy Word—by faith! I’m going to allow faith to go beyond my intellectual questions and doubts, and I will believe this to be Your inspired Word!” And at that moment, he felt God’s presence in a way he hadn’t in a long time. He went back to the camp to preach, and 400 people gave their lives to Christ (https://billygraham.org/story/the-tree-stump-prayer-where-billy-graham-overcame-doubt/). Was Billy Graham ignoring his doubts? Not at all, but he decided to face them with faith and move forward in the midst of his questions. This is doubting of the head.

The other type of doubts, according to Buechner, are “doubts of the stomach,” the gut-level feeling that all is not as it should be. And it’s not just a queasy or unsettled feeling. This is deeper than that, and Buechner’s example is Jesus on the cross, praying, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Here are Buechner’s words, who says it better than I can: “I think [Jesus] had looked into the abyss itself and found there a darkness that spiritually, viscerally, totally engulfed him. I think God allows that kind of darkness to happen only to God’s saints. The rest of us aren't up to doubting that way—or maybe believing that way either.” I think he’s right. Doubting of the head, doubting of the stomach.

Regardless of which doubt our friends are experiencing, how do we or how should we respond to their doubt? First of all, we respond the way Jesus responded, in that we don’t condemn someone’s doubt. If I’ve not said it clearly enough before, let me say it now: doubters are welcome here. You do not have to have it all figured out or all your questions answered for you to come to church here at Mount Pleasant. I know I have said this before, and that’s that the older I get, the more questions I have. When I was twenty years old, I had everything figured out. I’d love to be that guy again, but I’m simply not. And yet, even as the questions circle in my mind and heart, I can also say I’ve never believed in God as strongly as I do now. When I was twenty, I knew everything but I didn’t know much about the ways of God. I thought I did. But I was so very wrong. Jesus welcomes an honest question. He’s not afraid of it and he’s big enough to handle it. Jesus didn’t condemn anyone’s doubt and so we don’t either. And if you’re someone with more questions than answers, you are welcome here.

But the other side of that equation is that while he didn’t condemn doubt, Jesus also never commended doubt as a settled state (Hunter 167). In other words, doubt is not where we’re supposed to stay and be content. Jesus never said, “Happy are those who are full of skepticism, for they shall see the kingdom of God.” Jesus calls those who have questions to move toward faith and to live out their faith. Remember what he said to Thomas in the upper room? “Stop doubting and believe.” And after Thomas confessed his faith, Jesus said this to Thomas and to all the doubters who would come after him: “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:27-29). But here’s the bottom line: “Jesus is patient with those who are struggling with faith” (Hunter 167), and therefore we can be, too, even as we encourage them toward deeper faith.

That’s what the writer to the Hebrews was getting at in the short passage we read this morning (hopefully you knew I would get to it eventually). Here at the beginning of chapter 12, the author is drawing from what was then a well-known image of a “sports stadium where a distance marathon is being run” (Stedman, Hebrews [IVPNTC], pg. 135). Several years ago, I visited the ancient city of Olympia, Greece, and saw the ruins of an ancient stadium where such races were run. Though the stands where the crowds would sit were long gone, you could see where they would have been, both sides of the track with dignitaries gathered on one side, waiting for the marathoners to leave and to return. The sounds had to be deafening if the stands were full, and that’s the image the author has here. Those who are running the race of this Christian life are surrounded by “a great cloud of witnesses” (12:1). And then the author gives three pointers for those who want to successfully run the race of faith, but let me be quick to point out one major difference between a marathon and the race of faith. In a marathon, one person is crowned as the winner. One person outruns everyone else; everyone is competing against each other to win. But in the race of faith, what matters the most is that everyone makes it safely home (cf. Wright, Hebrews for Everyone, pg. 148). And so these tips, these directions the author gives are to make sure that happens. Very quickly this morning, then, what are those directions?

First: “Throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles” (12:1). In other words, run lightly. Get rid of the things that get in your way, and certainly we should get rid of the sin in our lives, the things that break our relationship with God. But sometimes the things that hinder us are things that aren’t necessarily sinful or bad. And sometimes it might be something that’s okay for someone else, but not for you, not for me (cf. Stedman 135). One person might be able to have a glass of wine in the evening but for someone who has struggled with alcoholism in the past, that’s not an option. Whatever hinders your faith, the author says, toss it aside. Ancient athletes carried nothing with them in their race; they even ran naked so that nothing would slow them down. Travel light, the author says (cf. Morris, “Hebrews,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 12, pg. 134). Don’t let the things of this world get in your way.

Second: have patience. Hebrews talks about running with “perseverance” (12:1), which is really a way of reminding us that this life of faith is a marathon, not a sprint. In a sprint, all of the runners take off and run as fast as they can to the end. It’s a short race. But in a marathon, it’s a matter of pacing. You want to run in such a way that you’re good for this mile and the next and the next and the next and so on. Remember, the goal is getting everyone home safely and that requires patience. The word translated “perseverance” means to run with constancy and endurance; run so that you’re in it for the long haul. Maybe you’ve known someone who started out 

“on fire for Jesus” and burned brightly for him—for a time. Then they run out of steam, become disillusioned or something, and end up with no strength for living out their one-time faith when they are older (cf. Wright 149). Have patience, run with perseverance, and remember it’s a marathon.

And then, third: keep your eyes focused on Jesus (12:2), because, as Hebrews says, he is the “pioneer and perfecter of faith,” which is what I talked about two weeks ago. Too many of those who become disillusioned and distracted by their doubts end up with their eyes on everything else except Jesus, and he is the center of the faith, he is the genuine article, not all of the other stuff. He ran this race before us, and he is at the center of the “great cloud of witnesses,” waiting to welcome us home himself. So when the doubts come knocking, when the questions begin to get loud, focus your attention on him. Sometimes that’s simply reminding ourselves of the truth we know. Sometimes it’s returning to the Scriptures and re-reading the Gospel stories. And sometimes it may just be, like Billy Graham, deciding we are going to believe this day. I will worry about tomorrow tomorrow, but today I am going to keep moving forward in this marathon of faith. Sometimes we just need to focus on today and staying in the race today, as the author to the Hebrews says, “so that you will not grow weary and lose heart” (12:3).

Here’s the challenge: we’re not always going to “feel” like a Christian. We’re not always going to have the warm, fuzzy feelings that come with first meeting Jesus or even with being in worship together on Sunday morning. Sometimes a Monday gets us down. Sometimes we run out of steam on Thursday. And sometimes things happen that shake our faith. Sometimes, like Thomas, we want to see Jesus and it seems he’s just not there. We want proof and it’s not available. That’s what faith is, my friends: it’s choosing to believe what we know to be true in spite of what our thoughts are telling us. Or, as Hebrews defines it, “Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” (11:1). It’s crying out, “God, I know you have been faithful to me and to my family and friends in the past, and even though I don’t feel it or see it right now, I’m going to choose to believe that you are still faithful, and that you will continue to be faithful to me in the future.” As musician Michael Card has said:

To hear with my heart

To see with my soul

To be guided by a hand I cannot hold

To trust in a way that I cannot see

That’s what faith must be.

There’s another story I want to close with this morning, another story of a believer who doubted. His name was John the Baptist. He was a relative of Jesus, and he had even recognized Jesus as the savior of the world when he was still in the womb (cf. Luke 1:44). He proclaimed Jesus as “the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), and then he was arrested for daring to challenge the rulers of this world. Sitting in prison, alone and dejected, John began to doubt. He of all people knew who Jesus was, and yet Jesus wasn’t meeting his expectations. Jesus wasn’t doing what John thought he should. And so, even as he sat on the first-century equivalent of death row, he sent some of his disciples to ask Jesus if he really was the one. I think John wanted to know if he had wasted his life and misplaced his faith. If you know the story, you know that Jesus doesn’t really answer John’s questions. He points John to the evidence, to the things that are happening, and asks him to make his own decision, to believe the truth that is right in front of his eyes (cf. Luke 7:18-23). John is executed not terribly long after that (cf. Matthew 14:1-12), and we are never really told what happens to his faith, what happens to his doubts. I believe that Jesus’ response was all John needed, and I believe he died trusting in the truth that he could not confirm. Because that’s what faith is. Doubt is not the enemy of faith. You can come to Jesus with all your doubts and trust that he will see you through it all. Keep your eyes on him and he will bring you home. Let’s pray.