Sermons

In Praise of Doubt

The Rev. Rob McCann
St. Matthew's Episcopal Church

August 9, 2009

Manna in the desert - and the Multiplication of the loaves and fish are seminal texts – for the Torah and Gospels. They also echo each other.

If you look up the etymology of the word, manna, you will come up with a number of meanings – but little in terms of accuracy.

To this day no one knows precisely what the original manna in the desert was: The one answer defines it as a flakey substance; The other asks the funny question – What is this?

Exodus 16 and John 6 both speak of people who are in the desert far from Whole Foods – The people are hungry; they have become dissatisfied; then they are fed in a remarkable way; they learn to trust that God will come through for them.

The sixth chapter of John climaxes with a leap of faith in Jesus – “I am the bread of life. I am the new manna which has comes down from heaven.”

I have often wondered how many of the 40 year wanderers in the desert and the 5000 people gathered to hear Jesus were ever filled with a tinge of doubt about what they had experienced.

Someone once said – “that the opposite of faith is no faith – not doubt.” Alfred Lord Tennyson added to the mix when he said “There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds.” That is not a put-down as much as a comment about an inadequate way of talking about a mystery.

Job is the extraordinary figure of dealing with doubt in the biblical literature. One who through all his trials never questioned that God would remember him and bring him new life.

“I know that my Redeemer lives” – was the bedrock of his hope. I don’t think for a minute, however, that Job’s response to pain and anguish is everyone’s.

Many in difficult circumstances fall into doubt about God and God’s love and mercy. Isn’t the usual response to any really bad news – Why did God allow this to happen?

The 2008 film entitled “Doubt” started with a Sunday sermon about doubt. The gist of the message was that doubt, as well as faith, can bring people together. We all share a mixture of both.

Peter Berger, an eminent sociologist of religion and a lifelong Lutheran, just published a book entitled “In Praise of Doubt.” One of his central concerns was finding a middle ground in religious belief between fundamentalism on the one hand and relativism on the other. The present day was supposed to usher in a rational secular world where religion was marginalized. Some even predicted religion would disappear. But it has not only survived—it is growing and thriving in certain parts of the world, even if not on our own West Coast. However, we live today in a world of plurality where diverse groups live under conditions of peace and in social interaction.

This arrangement is not without tension. How do we handle issues, such as abortion or homosexuality, when different groups have strongly held opposing-viewpoints? And how does culture maintain its harmony when confronted with the challenge of an aggressive fundamentalism which promotes one-answer responses. And how does culture maintain its harmony when confronted with the challenge of endless-answers promoted by relativism.

Berger suggests with the slightest twinkle in his eye. “The answer is doubt.” Not the leave-your-brains-at-the-door and accept this as Gospel. Not the stupefying doubt of relativism where we become incapable of any decision because we are overwhelmed by options.

He delightfully suggest that we make “a virtuous use of doubt” (his phrase) that allows us to move forward boldly with strong moral convictions without caving in to the fanatic's temptation of seeing everyone who disagrees as the enemy. How we as individuals and as a society can find this ideal balance is the subject of this deceptively simple but revolutionary work.

I struggled with a few doubts of my own, earlier on, as I began my pilgrimage from Rome to Canterbury. By grace one morning I ran into an Episcopal rector, a neighbor I had never met, walking his dog – and fairly quickly got into a conversation about the Church and, in particular, the Episcopal Church. When I mentioned that I was on my way to Washington, DC, he encouraged me to talk my concerns with a well-known Episcopal priest there. So I made the flight.

"Well, wouldn’t you know it” - as I unfolded my own doubts and concerns, he listened and raised the ante when he said – “Well, you catch me at an awkward moment in my own life.”

That evening he invited me to join him and his wife and a philosopher friend for dinner at one of the fine restaurants. “Well, we might be in doubt about some things,” he said, “but we certainly are not in doubt about our hunger.”

There was such a practicality in his next throw-away line. I took it in as - there is hunger of every kind everywhere - to the doubt that is everywhere.

Well, Jim Adams, this East Coast rector, did find himself by resigning his parish and starting a think tank on what churches ought to be about. By the time we had connected again, we both had worked through some of our concerns and I’m sure picked up a few others.

And the more I thought about it – Were those doubts I had or were they just fears about what might be lurking around the corner? A bit of both, I’m sure!

He went on to write about doubt – encouraging newcomers to plumb the depth of doubt. The name of the publication was “So you think you’re not religious: A thinking person’s guide to church through doubt.”

It’s not up to date now so I would not recommend it.

Doubt as well as faith became his suggested direction for the small group experience for all newcomers and established parishioners. How’s that for meeting people where they are.

He writes – “that it is quite possible for someone to walk with doubt for a life time. That each of us should not see that as antithetical to faith, but as a healthy sign of an honest struggle.”

The words of Paul are helpful in all of this –

“To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit. One gets wisdom, one gets knowledge, and one get faith.”

In other words, don’t forget that faith, like everything else, is a gift. Nobody gets all the gifts. So we should try not to make people think somehow that they are any less for not having faith in full bloom.

This leads me to suggest that every church might consider offering a place where people can gather and feel the safety and welcome of “The well-lighted room”- Perhaps, it is “in the exploration process with others that many might find meaning.” Another title just came to mind – “The well-doubted room.”

I remember in a class suggesting that we do an exercise by saying the Nicene Creed together - and modulating our voices, in accordance with the strength or weakness of our belief. Dropping out at a phrase or whole section was also an acceptable response.

You can imagine the sound or lack of it as people got into the swing of it – and then came the realization and the roar of laughter, the relief and the realization that so many were in the same life boat.

I heard the comment once – why don’t we drop-kick the creed? It’s so archaic. And there are lots of reasons for this question – as we try to make an early 4th century proclamation of faith drafted in a certain theological tone by a committee - and run with it into the 21st century.

I think, however, that saying the creed helps us “to kick against the goad.” It offers us an important expression of what the church has traditionally taught for two millennia. It tells us about this the pool of faith that so many have been dipped in.

I would say that sitting with the mystery celebrated each Sunday holds us and, at times, turns us in profound ways – at times totally unexpected.

There is no doubt, however, that saying together the creed has its value. The Creed is more this reflective pool of the complexity of faith than a clear explanation of it. I also don’t think that creeds in general work propositionally. They are more ”preserving the mystery caught in mid-air.”

“Live with some doubt” knowing that it is part of the normal reactionary to mystery. It can be said that all-important truths are paradoxical. That every time people state propositions, they are giving off half-truth. When we press too hard on the divinity of Christ, we off set his humanity – and vice versa!

I would like to focus on the way Jesus taught – namely, with no propositions. In fact, He went about undercutting propositions. All of his teachings are geared to make people doubt what they’ve so easily accepted as conventional wisdom.

Some of this reaction can lead us into what can be referred to as “the tyranny of the minority.” We occasionally allow the few to hold back the many. We give our power to change away, often, to avoid a necessary and growth-filled struggle.

Our Anglican nicety at times becomes our need to have every one rowing in the same general direction.

Our Church has had eight new prayer books: - official prayer books through the years. Had we not taken on the need for a new prayer book we would not be true to our reflective selves, nor become the sacramental people we are today.

We would have totally isolated ourselves from main-stream Christianity; in ecumenical worship and gatherings, we would have found ourselves year after year sharing less and less.

We have been molded by the catholic and protestant traditions. We are the product of such a tectonic rub. Listening, moving, having faith, have doubt and responding - are called life’s vital signs.

Striking the rock in the desert produced the flow of water, even though Moses struck it twice because he had his doubts; eating the loaves and fish staved off hunger, even though the disciples couldn’t imagine that a crowd of this size could be fed – and that there was enough left over to fill 12 baskets. Even in doubt there is great abundance!!

The present Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, tells a story of a Benedictine monk for whom the daily office was a way of life. On more than one occasion he would be deep in the middle of a pastoral encounter when the bell would ring and he would simply get up to go off to chapel. The person to whom he had been talking would yell: “You can’t just leave me now.”

Sermons

In Praise of Doubt

The Rev. Rob McCann St. Matthew's Episcopal Church

The Rev. Rob McCann
St. Matthew's Episcopal Church