Once upon a time two lovers met. They met under the most unexpected places, in the most unexpected circumstances. One was walking to church and the other was walking away from church to a place of reason and radical empiricism, and they bumped into each other. At first glance it was obvious that the two did not belong together and needed to keep going their separate, opposite ways. Yet there was something there. There was something that pulled the one to the other. It was not long until they bumped into each other again, and again it was while one was going toward church and the other was walking away. And this time they stayed in that space, circling each other, talking to each other, one constantly contradicting the other. A relationship formed. After some time had passed, the lovers decided that they were not good for each other and again decided to go their separate ways. Yet from this moment it felt like something was missing. When the lovers were apart it felt like they were not complete, not whole. They had everything that they needed and wanted, but without the other felt lost and empty. Now the lovers started to look for each other and found each other and again stayed in that place of tension and release. They were never in agreement with each other. They held very different values. And yet they needed each other and realized how they made each other better.

And thus we have the story of faith and doubt. While the romance idealizes the relationship between the two, there is a depth of truth in the allegory that speaks to the nature of the relationship and the presence faith has for doubt and doubt for faith. I will not say that you must always have one with the other, for I have known people so steadfast in their faith, who walk with a sense that all can be believed, but with such a layer of insecurity hidden just below the surface, that when facing the unknown any kind of doubt it would be terrifying. There are those who keep doubt at a distance. And I have known people who live in such ambiguity, in such a place of constant doubt, that to make a decision, to believe in something is terrifying, so doubt must always rule to give one a warped sense of comfort. These are extremes and neither place is healthy to live. I would argue that doubt needs faith and faith needs doubt in a healthy, well rounded relationship.

I wish the above allegory was a movie, a romantic comedy looking at the ways in which the two interact and intertwine with each other, looking at the ways that one had dominance over the other at different times and what led to such a relationship. The attraction and the tension between the two would be the driving force of the movie. I might even pay money to watch that movie.

The closest that I have come, of recent, to seeing such a portrayal of doubt and faith is Jennifer Michael Hecht’s book Doubt: A History (published in 2003). While Hecht is overt in her claim that the book is first about doubt, the place and role of faith plays heavily in the pages. I gather that she focuses on doubt in part because everyone has already given a lot of ink and devoted many pages to the history of faith, and she wants to tell another side of the story of the history of humanity. Thus, Hecht offers a history of doubt, but cannot separate it from faith.

I have a friend who is a historical theologian, looking at how people have wrestled with their faith in the past and offering a guide or insight into what it means to believe today. He is a historical believer of sorts. I have never met a historical doubter (not to be confused with historical deniers – they are working off of their own twisted, mixed up understanding of belief). Doubt does not get the same level of attention as faith does. Hecht is a historical doubter in her work, looking at the ways doubt has been a part of cultures and society, noting when doubt held a central place and when it was more on the margins. In her excellent work I was led to consider the importance of doubt and appreciated Hecht’s offerings that much more.

In giving space to the idea of doubt, in making disbelief legitimate and important I believe space is made for a deepening and strengthening of faith, but that space has to be made. When looking for doubt, one is not just looking for a negative naysayer, but for one who may embrace their own faith with such a passion that he or she deeply desires that it be authentic and sincere and then entertain questions of doubt. The scriptures may be important to you, but unless you go through a time of doubting the relevance and place of scripture to a degree that you own them as the authoritative guide for revelation in your life, the faith is as thin as paper and weak. Doubt can be the strengthening of faith. On the other hand, without faith one may never find a foundation, existential or otherwise, to stand upon. How firm a foundation that we find in faith! One may claim that doubting is their platform, their foundation. The methodology becomes the ideology. Doubt then becomes an idol of belief, a doctrinal stance of its own in a way that is twisted and flawed. To doubt everything and to believe that doubting everything is the best way to exist can lead to a place of such insecurity and fear that does not lead towards living.

Doubt can come out of a place of wonder. When watching magic shows I am very aware that that the individual is not actually performing magic. I am aware that there is a trick to the whole thing, but I don’t want to watch magic with that kind of certainty. I want to wonder. I want to be amazed and impressed and thrown for a loop, and doubt offers a way to do this. Doubt keeps open that wonder, that possibility that says that maybe it is magic, maybe it is something that cannot be explained. On the other hand, you need to have faith that you are seeing what is really happening. You need to have a level of faith that it is wonderful even if it is not magic.

Great scientists carry a sense of doubt because it guides and informs their own work. A healthy skepticism is a healthy wonder in the face of certainty. The sun always rises, we can know that, we can be certain of that. But can we? Do we know for sure that the sun will always rise? The doubt can lead to a deeper, more in-depth investigation into what we may see as sure and certain. Faith helps guide the questions, giving one the certainty that there is value in asking the question and in the search and discovery.

I believe that every religious community, every society should have a professional doubter. They should have someone who will question and push, pry and unsettle, helping the community to deepen their own sense of self, of what is right and what is wrong. This is not the person who just votes “no” on every church issue, bylaws issue, budget issue. This is not just a curmudgeon naysayer, but someone who, on Easter, would ask, “what if he didn’t rise from the dead?” On Christmas would ask, “what if he wasn’t born of a virgin?” On Communion Sundays, when approaching the Lord’s Supper, would ask, “what if nothing special is happening at the table?” And finally, before the preacher would start to preach would ask, “what if we don’t listen to the pastor?” These questions, when coming from a deeper place of wonder rather than a place of attack calls the rest of the community to question, to pause, to think about what they are doing, and then to decide to embrace with a deeper conviction the tenets of faith or to readjust and walk away. The presence of the doubter can be a vital and worthwhile part of a faith community.

I do not want to give the impression that doubt is more important than faith. There are times when I would call on individuals to suspend their own doubt for a moment of faith. Perhaps most importantly is when an individual is in a place of unrest, a place of terror. I once went to a Rock Gym with some friends. I have been before and knew what I was in for. I knew that I was going to scamper up the first couple of feet of the wall, and then my arms would start to tire, my legs would start to be less sure, the climbing would get more difficult, and eventually I would fall. I was harnessed in, and was being spotted by another person so I knew, I believed, that if I fell I would be ok. A friend of mine was climbing for the first time and did not know have that experience of needing to let go, when high off the ground, trust someone else. He got as high as he could and then would not let go. He held onto the grips tighter, his legs shaking, his breath getting rapid, but could not let go. It is terrifying to fall backwards, having only a strap of cloth and some metal clips to hold you, and he could not let go. Trust me. Believe me. You are going to be ok. This was a moment when it would have been good and helpful to suspend doubt and just believe.

And there are more existential moments when faith can be a comfort. Those moments of life and death, of pain and hurt and having to make a difficult decision are moments when suspending doubt and falling into faith can be a comfort. When I have worked with families in grief, especially a raw and recent grief, they do not want to consider all of the different ways to understand after-life or heaven or other minutiae of theology. They want to know if their loved one is in a better place. They want to know that there is something more. In those moments of crisis and pain, the surety of faith can be the comfort, the grounding that we need.

In the less dire times of our life, having faith is choosing a path, a direction. Choosing a major in college and believing that it is going to be ok is liberating and important. Believing that when someone says they will pick you up from the repair shop is important. Having the certainty that the sun will rise the next day, that the earth will continue to rotate and have its place in the universe gives us ground to go through each day. There are moments and times when we need to have faith over doubt.

What I like most about Hecht’s book is that it looks at the relationship between faith and doubt. Hecht is not trying to argue that one is more important than the other, although I think she would say that faith has overall held dominance over doubt through history. Hecht is looking at the ways that doubt and faith interact and exist in the context of time. We have had our times when one has been aggressive to the other. People of faith have murdered doubters, people who questioned and wondered and pushed in ways that were seen and felt to be dangerous. People of certainty have derided doubters, calling them crackpots and casting those who question and doubt to the margins of the community. Doubters have looked down on people who believe, describing their ideas and their values and antiquated, out of date, and superstitious.

This is not what we always want; I would argue that a relationship of mutual respect is healthy and worthy of striving towards. And then one can push the other. Faith and doubt can help each other. In his classic meditations, The Dark Night of the Soul, St. John of the Cross seems to invite doubt into his faith, welcomes it with the unknowing and the uncertainty and the pain and the fear believing that the doubt will lead to a stronger and deeper faith. We do not know if doubt will strengthen our faith, will help our faith, but we believe that it is more important to try than to do nothing.

It is safe to say that with faith and doubt, one could not exist without the other. Doubt, in part, defines faith and faith, in part, defines doubt. Yet we have our preferences, and I wonder if we are living in a time when doubt takes a place that is higher than faith. Charles Taylor’s massive tome, A Secular Age, can easily lead one to a place where such a wondering about our current age and the role of doubt within it. Taylor talks about certainty in the face of faith and shows how over the centuries, doubt and a desire for certainty has eroded the place of religious faith in our current culture. But faith still persists, just not in the divine or the other. Faith is in the known, in the fact, in that which is certain. I am waiting for doubt to shake the tree, to rattle the foundations of this new form of belief. As long as we encounter the unknown, we will have a place for doubt and a place for faith.

I like the idea of the relationship between faith and doubt as a love story. This is better than thinking of the two as rivals or enemies. Instead of looking to destroy or beat the other they find that they are pulled, that they are lured, that they are tempted towards each other. There is energy, there is at times frustration, anger, and disgust. And yet they are drawn back to each other, complimenting each other, helping each other. It is a better movie than a battle between faith and doubt where one wins and the other loses. Now, who would I cast…?