Fear, Doubt, and Transformation
Poor Thomas. Even though all it takes is one encounter with the risen Christ for him to believe, he’s known throughout all time for his doubt. Maybe that’s not so much about him but about us. It’s good to know we have an ally in our doubt, right?
Really, none of the disciples has perfect faith. Even when Mary Magdalene announces that Christ has risen, the other disciples stay locked in the room where they are. Christ appears to them, but nothing changes. A week later, they’re in exactly the same place, doors locked, living in fear. How can we fault Thomas for not believing? The other disciples say they believe but don’t act like they do. At least Thomas, who wasn’t even there when Christ first appeared, is honest. Christ doesn’t seem to be offended by Thomas’ doubt. In fact, he comes back to the locked room and invites Thomas to touch his wounds. He invites Thomas to believe, and so, he believes.
Years ago, when I was in college and wrestling with my faith, a friend quoted her pastor to me, saying, “There’s a difference between questioning and doubting. Questioning is okay; it’s doubting that’s wrong.” I’ve reflected on that over the years, and I’ve got to say, I disagree. Questioning is okay, and doubting is okay too. I’ve had plenty, plenty of doubts along the way. God doesn’t seem to mind. God always wants to be close to me, and doubt can be an opening for God to come closer and show me who God is.
I’m also realizing that I can have both doubt and faith at the same time. I know that sounds weird, but the human experience is such a multiplicity of different thoughts and feelings, and more and more I see that I can hold experiences that seem opposed to each other at the same time. This is kind of a revelation to me. I’ve long worried that my doubt and anxiety meant I was a bad providence person. The spirituality of my community centers around trusting God’s providence, and I worried that my doubt was a sign that I wasn’t really trusting. I worried that my worry meant I wasn’t trusting — how’s that for a meta experience? I know myself, and so I know that I’m wired with a certain amount of anxiety, and so having some worry and fear is just how I roll. However, even when I’m anxious, I can still know at some level that God is trustworthy, that God is with me, that things may get hard but it will be okay. As we say to God in one of our community prayers, “I know you will either preserve me from the evils I dread or turn them to my good and your glory.” I can trust that God has it covered even when I’m afraid.
I’ve heard a lot of people dismiss anxiety and doubt, or, like my friend in college, insinuate that doubt is somehow bad or sinful. Maybe some people really do trust without worry or somehow rise above their more painful emotions in favor of simply having faith. I don’t know. To me, it sounds like kind of a bypass to genuine human experiences, a way of just not dealing. I think most of us wrestle a bit and find that we’re holding several feelings and thoughts at once. And we all have the limited perspective that comes with being human. Real faith comes in when we don’t know the outcome. If we were sure about how everything would turn out, we wouldn’t need faith, right?
Well, there’s no chance of that for me. I’m as limited in knowledge and perspective as they come. My faith comes when I don’t know what will happen, and I have to remind myself of God’s trustworthiness and allow God to show me God’s love. When I’m struggling with loneliness, sadness, anger, or worry, it’s hard to believe in the long, slow work of grace, but that’s exactly what’s at work. Whenever I’m going through a hard time, whenever I’m trying to grow and allow some part of me to grow, it’s hard to believe that God can bring transformation, but that’s exactly what God is doing, and those moments of uncertainty are exactly when God is doing that work. Doubt is a kind of invitation for God to show me that slow work of transformation. It’s a closed door within me that God wants to open. And I want God to open it.
My transformation is not much like Christ’s rising; mine is a long, slow, cell-by-cell growth that can’t be seen with the naked eye, like a butterfly in a cocoon. Christ had, what, like a couple of days in a tomb and then – bam – he is risen. But like me, his followers took a while to catch up with him. Their transformation was a gradual dawning, slow and hard to detect. He breathed peace upon them, and a week later they were still in the same place with no obvious change. But they were changing. They eventually left that room. Peter and a few more went back to fishing, and the others picked up some remnant of the life they had before. However, even if some things seemed the same, each one of them was not the same person who fished or collected taxes or followed the man Jesus with only a minimal understanding of who he was. After experiencing the risen Christ, each of his followers was transformed too, and everything, from the way they understood him to how they were in the world, changed.
These past few years have changed us too. We have not emerged from our locked spaces the same as we were when we entered them. I see changes in my life, in my family, in my community, and there’s no going back – only forward. We are being transformed, and what that will look like as we move forward, I can’t really say. In whatever life brings, we’ll probably still bear some wounds, physical or emotional, or both, just like the risen Christ did. However, there is something like new life emerging from within each of us. It will likely be gradual; inner transformation takes time to make itself known.
Doubt is a helpful tool in transformation, actually. Doubt shows me my limitations but allows God to wow me, to woo me, to change my mind and heart. God doesn’t mind when we doubt – Got knows we’re short-sighted, incomplete humans with a limited capacity to envision. God, though, is infinite, boundless, and loves us enough to grace us with small glimpses into God’s own vision. I can’t self-generate my own faith; it’s not something to be manufactured but, rather, it’s a gift. God uses our doubt to increase our faith.
It’s hard to believe, and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes doubt wins over belief. However, Christ gently invites me: “Do not be unbelieving but believe.” A slow transformation is taking place. I may have to believe it when I see it, but I trust that God, who is with me, will use my fear and doubt to transformation me and move me closer to God.
For Reflection:
What about you — when you’re in a space of doubt or worry, how does God show up?
Have you ever had an experience of doubt that helped you to grow and maybe learn something about yourself, about God? What was that like? What did you learn? How did you grow?
What is God trying to transform in you now?
By Sister Leslie Keener, CDP
Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She also serves on the Boards of Spiritual Directors International and Thomas More University. She enjoys music, dancing, meaningful conversations, and Easter candy.