Doubt and the Christian
Is anybody out there?
Have you ever felt like God has left you on your own? I am sure most of us have been there at some point. Some might describe it as feeling like their prayers are bouncing off the ceiling. Others might just feel as if God is absent.
The truth is that whether or not you’ve been there, you probably will be, sooner or later. This is, indeed, a part of life under the sun. The Preacher of Ecclesiastes knew this well enough and Job definitely had his moments (rightly so). But there are few other examples of such desperation such as Psalm 88. Rather than quote it here, take a moment to go read it for yourself. The rest will make sense only after you’ve done so.
No, seriously, go open your Bible and read Psalm 88…
“Hello darkness my old friend…”
These are the opening words of a famous Simon and Garfunkel song called “The Sound of Silence.” There is something that is being hit on in that song that few articulate. This life is full of darkness. There are moments when it does, certainly, feel like darkness is your only companion. Again, if you’ve not experienced that, chances are you will—even if only in passing (pray that it is only in passing). But, as a Christian, this brings with it the question…
What do I do with my doubt?
I believe Psalm 88 gives us a few reflections that can help us answer this question. It is important to remember that this Psalm is a lament (which is basically an “outcry” to God). As such, the psalmist expresses things in a way which might otherwise seem inappropriate. It is best to look at it as an honest outpouring of the soul in complaint to God.
Cry out to the God who Delivers
The psalmist calls out to the God who delivers. He brings his complaint to God, crying out for mercy from the God who he knows can deliver him from this pit. Behind the cry is a haunting question: he has delivered me before, why not now? If this is where you’re at, cry out to the God who alone can deliver.
Go to the God you know with the things you don’t
There are many things we may never know. There are many questions to which we simply cannot find answers. The psalmist asks some difficult questions and the way they are presented seems to assume a negative response. What are we doing with those things in our lives that don’t square with what we believe about the goodness and favor of God upon his children? Press on, friend, and go to the God you know with the things you don’t.
Surrender to the God who is really there when darkness seems like your only friend
We will—most all of us—come to a point where the only way out is up. When we look up from our rock bottom, crying out to the God who delivers, going to the God we know with the things we don’t, we may find ourselves at a place of surrender. It might be that we, like the psalmist, have come to a point where God seems silent in our pain. What will we do? Surrender to the God who is really there when darkness seems like your only friend.
Remember the Suffering of Christ in your doubt
The first time I taught a Bible study for students—I was just a kid myself at 22—I was given the following feedback: “It was a great lesson, but it wasn’t exactly Christian.” Needless to say, I was impacted by the statement. He went on, to clarify, that I had presented ideas in the text well and gave good background support, made it very practical to understand, but I missed the gospel.
This passage is indeed dark, and it does not let up. There is no happy ending within its scope, no release from the pain. It is good that we let that sink in because sometimes, we jump too quickly to the redemptive aspect and the big picture victory of the Christian without seeing a text for what is right in front of us. At the same time, if we only focus in what is right in front of us in passages like this one, we miss the fact that there is something more crucial to the Christian message, even when reading the saddest of the Psalms.
That crucial element is the life, death, resurrection and soon-coming return of Christ in the redemption of all things. If we fail to present Christ, we have failed to preach the gospel. Maybe you’re not a preacher so let me put it to you like this: if we fail to look to Christ, we are not rightly believing the gospel.
I recently preached from Psalm 88. If there is one thing I would change, I would be more explicit of the hope that we have in Christ and how his suffering relates to ours. Ultimately, that is the import of Psalm 88. It reminds us about the universality of suffering. Christians are not spared unhappy endings.[1] But we have one who suffered without sin, that we who have sinned may be made clean and whole in Him. He descended into the deepest darkness imaginable, that we might dwell with him in unapproachable light. Now, let that sink in.
Psalm 88 gives us a picture of what to do with our doubts. But it also reminds us of the one who wrestled against the weakness of human flesh, even as he withstood every temptation to doubt. May we, like Christ in the garden of Gethsemane, cry out to God when we are at our lowest points; when darkness is our only friend and we have nowhere else to turn. Cry out to the God who alone can deliver, go to the God we know with the things we don’t, and surrender to the God who is really there, when darkness seems like our only friend.
May we never have to experience this darkness, but if we do, let us look to the Son. There is both life and healing in him. He suffered the deepest darkness that we may live in the light of life. Do you believe this?
Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.
[1] Link to “Life in a Minor Key”
