Consider the following quotes about the advisability of expressing doubt from the pulpit:
In its ugliest form, the preacher says something like this: “Our passage this morning, Luke 16:19–31, like quite a number of other passages drawn from the life of Jesus, depicts hell in some pretty shocking ways. Frankly, I wish I could avoid these passages. They leave me distinctly uncomfortable. But of course, I cannot ignore them entirely, for after all they are right here in the Bible.” The preacher has formally submitted to Scripture’s authority, while presenting himself as someone who is more compassionate or more sensitive than Jesus. This is as deceptive as it is wicked…
D.A. Carson, “Subtle Ways to Abandon the Authority of Scripture,” 2
There is something about this part of our Bible that I have to include in my basket of things I don’t understand about God and his ways. I find myself thinking, “God, I wish you had found some other way to work out your plans.” There are days I wish this narrative were not in the Bible at all (usually after I’ve faced another barrage of questions about it), though I know it is wrong to wish that in relation to the Scriptures. God knew what he was doing – in the events themselves and in the record of them that he has given us. But it is still hard.
C.H. Wright, The God I Don’t Understand, 86
In a previous post, I suggested that despite appearances these quotes need not be pitted against one another. In what follows, I will offer five reflections to flesh out that claim.
A Question of Precedent
What is the biblical pattern with regard to the doubt we might express? Both Carson and Wright direct their readers to what the inspired authors of the Bible had to say. Carson reminds us of the words of Paul: “by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to everyone’s conscience in the sight of God” (2 Cor 4:2). The Apostle Paul, who was certainly no stranger to deep study, apparently did not feel the need to stop at every available opportunity to validate the doubts and concerns of his primarily Gentile audience. Yet in key passages of his letters, Paul was at great pains to explain how the rejection of Christ by many Jewish people could be part of God’s plan (Rom. 9-11), or to assign meaning to his own suffering (2 Cor 12). The wide gulf between our expectations and God’s reality cannot always be crossed with more Bible study, or even a more robust biblical faith. There are in Scripture, as Wright notes, “many examples of people who stood before God in confusion, grief, anxiety, or fear and addressed their questions to him” (19-21).
If we were to press Carson’s point about the dangers of portraying oneself as more compassionate than Jesus too far, we wind up in the awkward position of lobbying that accusation at several biblical figures: Abraham, Sarah, Moses, Job, Habbakuk and Christ himself as he quotes Ps 22 on the cross. The biblical precedent for some expression of doubt is there, even if it is tempered by the warnings.[1]
God has fielded questions on a whole host of topics from his own people. But even when interacting with genuine believers, God’s response is not uniform. God’s answer to Abraham was to reassure him that there were indeed very few righteous people in Sodom and Gomorrah (Gen. 18:32). God’s answer to Job was to challenge him to trust (Job 38); this is mirrored by Habbakuk’s doxology (Hab 3). God’s answer to the psalmist in Ps. 22 (and to Christ on the cross) was, in that moment at least, deafening silence.
A Question of Perseverance
Have we truly given God the benefit of the doubt? It is true that the Bible contains many expressions of doubt, even from the faithful. But it also includes many expressions of what might be called defiant hope despite unresolved tension. In Ecclesiastes: “I perceived that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it. God has done it, so that people fear before him. That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already has been; and God seeks what has been driven away” (Ecc. 3:14-15). Or Lamentations: “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end” (Lam. 3:22)—a theme that comes at the cost of unspeakable loss. There are countless examples of this, but they are only believable because of the Bible’s God is so gloriously persistent in his pursuit of wretched human beings, and so persistently challenging in its recounting of the gentle words of Christ, that doubters can give the Lord the benefit of the doubt in the darkest periods.
Wright’s words are not offered after a few meager hours of study. He has not simply thrown in the towel at the first sign of resistance. Wright has been writing on the topic of Old Testament ethics for decades, and has indeed answered a “barrage of questions” about it. And Carson’s concern about an expression of “heart embarrassment” before the text comes on the heels of his discussion of selectively avoiding hard topics (i.e., the very things that cause doubt and controversy). His warning about setting oneself up as “more compassionate or sensitive than Jesus” is set in the broader context of a call to persevere through difficult texts—even those which might cause disagreement or full-blown controversy in the church.
It is only through the Spirit’s discernment and thorough theological reflection that we can hope to separate from all the felt tensions those true problems that require us to admit we do not know. Giving up at the first sign of trouble, or resisting the search for the best arguments for or against a proposal, shows that a teacher is probably more interested in what is convenient (“that’ll preach”) than in what is true.
A Question of Honesty
How have we positioned ourselves in relationship to God and the text? Anyone who has ever disagreed with their boss has had to learn that there are respectful and disrespectful ways to object. Mere disagreement does not free the subordinate of obligations; if that were the case, in a world where human beings continue to see things differently, it would be essentially meaningless to speak of authority at all.
It will do little good to pretend that authority alone is enough. Subscription or piety cannot absolve us of all responsibility toward empathy when dealing with difficult questions. The texts, after all, serve as the rule of faith, not our feeble understandings of them, and brain power is no magic shield. To act or believe otherwise is to put one’s own theological perspective or confessional status before the fear of the Lord (Prov 3:5-6). Due to the noetic and psychological effects of sin, the way sensibilities and cultural mores develop over time, God’s inscrutable nature, the deeply tragic aspects of life, and the complexity of translating ancient documents into contemporary terms, “hard sayings” will remain a fixture in a fallen world until Christ comes again.
There is an important difference between setting ourselves up as more enlightened, more fair, more compassionate, or more coherent than God, and on the other hand, admitting limitations in our all too human understanding. Carson is correct to say that the former is “as deceptive as it is wicked,” but the same cannot be said of the latter. It is equally deceptive and wicked to pretend that we can answer all the questions. As John Wenham puts it in his book-length reflection on the goodness of God, “we shall have failed to convey our message if any reader thinks that he has been given all the answers and that he now ‘comprehends’ God.”[2] God is not simply a smarter person; he is an altogether different order of being.
It is helpful to realize that Wright is confessing an attitude, not glorifying it, as he reflects on his subordination to God: “I know it is wrong to wish that in relation to the Scriptures” (86). There will always be things that we, along with Wright (and Job long before him), need to put in our basket of things we do not understand about God and his ways. This is a way of expression that maintains a submissive posture rather than the external, empty and “formally submitted” way Carson warns about. We must be careful not to become pastors who honor God with our lips, while our hearts are far from him (Mt. 15:8; Isa. 29:13).
A Question of Emphasis
What have we spent the most time or energy saying? Week to week and in our sermon series planning, what has been the main point? If we have spent considerable time emphasizing a central, less debatable, more unifying theme for a Christian community—the resurrection, the call to love one another, anything listed in the Apostles’ Creed—then there is surely an appropriate place and time to admit some doubt. As established earlier, this is not a call for a magic ratio, but the cumulative emphasis of what is being said is a reflection of priorities.
That being said, if the only way we are creating tension in the minds and hearts of our hearers is through raising doubts, rather than reminding them of their sin or shortcomings, something is wrong. The fallen condition of humanity involves more than intellectual concerns.
Another way to attack the question: what are we most emphatic about in our sermons? Word frequency does not always tell the full story. It is possible to emphasize a point quickly, or de-emphasize gradually, whether with word choice or body language or strategic pauses. Have we encouraged our congregations to only critique and analyze a given understanding of an issue, or have we encouraged them to look to the saving work of Christ in all matters of heart, mind, body and soul – to include the uncomfortable and trying times where life’s circumstances do not make sense and biblical themes seem foreign? Robert Murray McCheyne’s famous remark continues to be relevant to our concern: “For every look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ.”[3]
A Question of Obligation
What are the needs of those we are teaching? To get at the deeper concerns of this question of obligation, we must consider the role of the pastor as a shepherd or teacher as a guide in the first place. Insofar as preaching is proclamation of the good news, rather than a lecture about ideas or theology, the place of doubt is tenuous. Those given the gift of free grace ought not to put the Giver to the test. The speculation in a commentary may be immensely helpful in a discussion at Bible study or as part of a Q&A forum, but is not necessarily a fit for a confident declaration on Sunday morning. Those put in a position of teaching authority should not default to lukewarm uncertainty. As James attests, those who teach are to be judged with greater strictness (James 3:1). As Jesus scolded Nicodemus (Jn. 3) and the other Pharisees: “what do the Scriptures say? Do you not know?”
The better a preacher or teacher knows the people whom they are trying to educate, exhort, or persuade, the better they will be able to explain the themes or lessons in terms they understand. Congregations and individuals are not all the same. Some believers are at a spot in their life where they need reassurance, not another rehearsal of a thorny problem. Some need encouragement and not another reminder that the world can be cruel. But others need strong challenge rather than vague platitudes to wake them from a sinful coma. Some need a greater appreciation for the deeply intellectual, moral, emotional and spiritual problems they might encounter later in life, or something their neighbor might be struggling with daily. Some need more academically rigorous theological training because they are drifting from orthodoxy or heterodoxy and are coming close to heresy. Some need to maintain their dove-like innocence; others need to understand how crafty and dangerous the serpent can be.
Doubt and the Preacher
What considerations, as preachers or teachers, should guide our decision to express or conceal our own intellectual struggles? Careful reflection on the five considerations outlined above provides a more complete and biblical picture: to the extent that (1) the biblical pattern on a particular issue is one of confessed doubt, (2) we have truly given God the benefit of the doubt through prolonged research, (3) we are positioning ourselves as limited and dependent human beings, (4) we have spent the bulk of our time or energy on positively emphasizing the central truths of Christ’s death and resurrection and the forgiveness of sins, and (5) we have attuned ourselves to the unique needs of those we are called to teach, then expressing doubt, even from the pulpit, may be the healthiest option. The key word here is “and” – all five of the conditions should be met before pursuing this line.
Yet for all this, we should never forget God’s faithfulness, nor neglect our responsibility to mortify our cynicism and skepticism. When all else fails – all interpretive options are a dead end, all human effort to “take every thought captive” (2 Cor. 10:5) has been exhausted – we should never forget the biblical encouragement that God’s final and inevitable answer to every doubt will be a resounding renewal of all things, a constant, abiding, illuminating, eternal presence and the wiping away of every tear (Rev 22), even those shed in the fear and confusion of doubt.
Caleb Miller is a US Army chaplain and has written for ThemeliosandFrom the Green Notebook.
[1] Wright, The God I Don’t Understand, 22-23. Wright cites Jer 15:19 and Isa 45:9-13, though he states his purpose of channeling the spirit and truth of Psalm 73.
[2] John Wenham, The Goodness of God, 10.
[3] Robert Murray McCheyne, “Letter to Mr. George Shaw, September 16, 1840” in Andrew Bonar, ed., Memoir and Remains of Robert Murray McCheyne (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1981), 254. Carson offers a more verbose version of this same encouragement: “If ‘heart embarrassment’ before this or that text […] reduces the authority of Scripture in my life, a hearty resolve to align my empathies and will with the lines of Scripture until I see more clearly how God looks at things from his sovereign and omniscient angle will mean I offer fewer apologies for the Bible, while spending more time making its stances coherent to a generation that finds the Bible profoundly foreign to contemporary axioms.” Carson, “Subtle Ways,” 12.
