Unsure and Unsteady

Unsure and Unsteady

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Let's recap the past two years in a few words: Mass death. War. Explosions. Racial reckoning. Political idolatry. Cries of communism... Did we miss anything? 

 

Our paradigms, the lenses through which we view the world, were shaken. Some of us doubled down on what we already believed, others changed their foundations completely. Wherever you fall on that spectrum, we'd like to welcome you to a conversation we're having at our Easter services this year. 

 

For some of us, the unquestioned faith we previously held slowly crumbled before our eyes. Doubt crept into our previously-solidified beliefs from cracks caused by death, grief, and division. For many of us, one resounding question floats in our minds: God, where are you? Or, just, Why, God? 

 

It all comes to a thundering end in one word: doubt. We doubt that God really is who He says He is. We doubt that Scripture is trustworthy. We doubt that reconciliation is actually possible here on earth as it is in Heaven. 

 

Doubt and Thomas

 

If you've been part of a faith community for some time, perhaps you've experienced doubt. And if you grew up in a Christian environment, perhaps you've heard of one disciple in particular: Thomas. 

 

A few staff members on our communication team are working through author and pastor Tyler Staton's book, Searching for Enough: the High-Wire Walk Between Faith and Doubt, in preparation for sermons on doubt and faith this Easter at Alliance. The book tells a more complete, humanizing account of Thomas, the disciple who received a bad rap for the majority of Christian history as "doubting Thomas."

 

One moment of expressed doubt became the mark of Thomas' identity throughout church history. While we know that one moment in our lives doesn't define us, we seem to believe that to be so with Thomas. Interestingly enough, "doubting Thomas" didn't always experience doubt. 

 

From John 11: "Thomas (also known as Didymus) said to the rest of the disciples, 'Let us also go, that we may die with him.'"

 

This, "Let us go, that we may die with him," comes directly after Jesus' disciples try to warn him not to return to Judea, because, "A short while ago the Jews there tried to stone you, and yet you are going back?" (John 11:8). 

 

Thomas was willing to face death for the Messiah. "Let us go, that we may die with him" is a display of confidence, not doubt. But nonetheless, doubt came for Thomas, just as it does for many of us.

 

Tyler explains that doubt isn’t intellectual at first, but personal. Doubt is "the result of an event in my life that doesn’t line up with the story I believed."

 

Rather than doubt being a dead-end to our faith, what if we allowed doubt to become a doorway to a deeper understanding of and encounter with God? That's the whole crux of this sermon, and the book, by Tyler. 

 

That said, the deeper understanding we want to experience this Easter is knowing Christ as our sure and steady anchor as we traverse the deep waters of doubt and questioning. 

 

The Sure and Steady Anchor

 

Hebrews 6:19 says, "We have this hope as a sure and steady anchor of the soul..." If you haven't heard this verse in church, you've probably seen it on a Hobby Lobby coffee mug or their latest beach-themed bathroom decor. 

 

So why the imagery of an anchor invoked to describe Jesus? Some context:

 

In the ancient Near East, the context where our Scriptures were written, water didn't evoke pleasant mental images of Sister Bay on a summer day. Water was symbolic of chaos, representative of the fear-inducing and the unknown. Perhaps "chaos" and "fear" describe how you’ve felt over the past few years. Perhaps they describe what it feels like to encounter doubt. 

 

Doubt comes like an ocean's rising tide and strong waves. However, we have a sure and steady anchor in Christ. As we search for answers to deep questions and traverse the waters of doubt, we encourage you to listen to a hymn we sing together as a congregation. We hope its lyrics bring you peace, comfort, and assurance this Easter: 

 

In the fury of the storm

When the winds of doubt blow through me
And my sails have all been torn
In the suffering, in the sorrow
When my sinking hopes are few
I will hold fast to the Anchor
It shall never be removed

 

Stay tuned for more content on faith and doubt in the coming weeks from various pastoral teams and ministry leaders at Alliance Church. 

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