Marvelous Light Through the Cracks of Doubt

  Let’s begin here: No matter what you’ve been told in the past, your questions are valid. Your uncertainty makes sense. Your deconstruction — the way you’re taking apart what you believe, shedding what no longer fits, and trying to put it together in a new way — is not an unfaithful experience but rather an incredibly faithful one.

  Ask any pastor, spiritual director, or counselor you know: doubt and deconstruction are everywhere in our churches and faith communities — and perhaps even more so outside of them. Millions of individuals have been exiting churches in the last decade or so, and doubt has a lot to do with why. In my years as a pastor and in offering spiritual direction, I have heard countless stories of doubt, of questions, and of uncertainty, and they all have a unique origin story.

  Some doubt because of a painful experience in church. Some doubt because of their mistrust in institutions. Some doubt because their experiences or relationships caused them to re-think some previously-held ideas. Some doubt because of how people of faith are portrayed in the news or in politics. All of these reasons are valid; they all are warranted and make sense.

  For many people — myself included — the idea of doubt was always shared as a cautionary tale. Pastors and teachers and parents do a lot of hard work to help those in their care avoid doubt and come back to certainty. Doubt is scary, and full of “what ifs.” But resisting doubt can cause us more harm than the doubt itself.

  However, Peter Enns, in his book The Sin of Certainty, puts it this way: “By resisting [doubt], we may actually be missing an invitation to take a sacred journey, where we let go of needing to be right and trust God regardless of what we feel we know or don’t know.” 1

  Doubt doesn’t have to be a frightening crisis of faith. In fact, doubt and deconstruction of faith may actually be a window into a deeper, truer, more beautiful faith. We don’t need to be certain. In fact, chasing certainty may do nothing but increase our anxiety and shame around our doubts, or even rob us of the beauty that lies within and beyond our doubts.

  On an episode of his podcast, The Eternal Current Podcast, Aaron Niequist suggests that befriending and allowing space for our doubts might feel similar to a child learning the truth about Santa Clause. (Spoiler alert to any parents reading this near young children!) When a child learns that Santa is, in fact, his or her parents, there might be a lament of that particular magic — and that makes sense. At the same time, however, this new perspective on our holiday joy can also deepen the meaning of that season. All the magic, the joy, and the wonder of Santa is actually your parents who love you deeply and are distilling that love into a beautiful, memorable experience for their children each year. Niequist says, “It’s fun to receive gifts from a magical fat man with a flying sleigh, but it’s deeply meaningful to receive gifts from a parent who loves us and promises to take care of us.” 2

  When we allow ourselves space to doubt, to deconstruct or ask big questions of our faith, we open the door to a newer, deeper, more true and more profound understanding of our faith. As Leonard Cohen so beautifully wrote in his song Anthem, “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” May our doubts be the cracks in our certainty that allows the marvelous light of God to shine through.

Practice: Contemplative Prayer

  To allow our doubts, we need to hold space for them. This means we notice our doubts, name them, and give ourselves permission to not know for now. The practice of Contemplative Prayer offers us a way in which we can hold space for our doubts, noticing them and naming them so that we might see God’s light shining through the cracks. This practice does not necessarily bring us to certainty or quell our doubts; rather, it removes the shame or fear we might feel around our questions of faith in order to hold them well.

  This section will guide you through a contemplative prayer practice. This practice is not mine; I first came across it in Aaron Niequist’s “The Practice Podcast” (Episode 2). Before you begin, give yourself the gifts of a quiet space to meet with God, and enough time to engage fully in the practice. This is a practice that asks you to stop and prayerfully consider your questions and experiences.

Begin: Take a deep breath — or two. Allow yourself to become quiet and present in this space.

Then: (1) Notice and name some of your doubts or questions to God. Your doubts may be about specific ideas or tenets of faith, or they might feel more existential or thematic. Any and all of these things are okay; simply notice what comes up.

(2) Which one of these doubts or questions feels most alive to you? Choose one of these things that you’ve named, and imagine yourself pulling that doubt into your heart. Don’t push it away; allow yourself to receive it fully, knowing God is with you.

(3) Ask this doubt to tell you the truth. Make space for God’s light to sneak through the doubt and into your heart. What might this doubt or question want to teach you? What does it reveal about reality?

(4) Ask God to bless this doubt or question as a midwife of new life. Ask God to stay near to you in this next season of new life, even as you continue to hold your questions.

Peter Enns, The Sin of Certainty, p. 16. 1
Aaron Niequist, The Eternal Current Podcast, Episode 2. 2