Before Their Faith Erodes

When my wife and I purchased our first house a few years ago, we got to work right away making updates and renovations. Flooring, tile, carpet, paint and numerous minor repairs were needed to make our home move-in ready. But our biggest project was adding a retaining wall.   

For several years, that project consumed my life. I would go “stone questing” in the mountains every weekend, looking for large rocks of just the right shape to add to the structure. I painstakingly labored at building a functional, aesthetic wall, using my own sweat and blood as mortar. Retaining wall construction became my obsession. After all, without something to keep it in place, soil erodes. Dirt washes away. 

Like topsoil under sheets of heavy rain, human beliefs also need help staying put in the onslaught of torrential intellectual chaos. Any belief worth having is also worth keeping. If a belief is true and leads to greater flourishing, it should be retained. In fact, our beliefs regarding the foundational doctrines of the Christian faith serve as the fertile soil in which our whole life should be rooted and nourished.  

It saddens me as a pastor when I hear the all-too-familiar stories of faith erosion that take place among once-professing Christians––and even professing Christians in the pews wrestling with doubt. Though stories of faith erosion are very personal and take a variety of shapes, one young woman’s testimony still rings like a melancholy minor chord in my mind: 

“I was reading my Bible and started to notice discrepancies in the text. But when I asked my pastor for help, his answers didn’t satisfy. The Bible was supposed to tell a true story, and now I wasn’t even sure I could trust it. The people who were supposed to have studied these things couldn't help me. I began to see problems in the church as well. I noticed gossip masked as “prayer requests.” I noticed the disunity. I noticed the anger on social media. Christians were giving unsolicited and unloving opinions on everything from politics to sexual ethics. I started feeling like I didn’t belong in that community anymore. I had a few friends in the church, but most of them seemed clueless. Then I met some people who were struggling with the same questions I had. It was so refreshing. I finally felt understood. They shared their stories of church hurt and unanswered prayers. Their stories resonated with me. We found a new kind of fellowship that didn’t require church. But I missed it…church, I mean. I missed the singing. I missed the liturgy—the readings, the prayers, the sights and sounds of worship. So, I prayed. I asked God to give me a sign: “If you’re real, show me…give me something.” He didn’t. It was like radio silence. I remember my tears. I remember closing my Bible for the last time. It still sits on my bookshelf. But I haven’t opened it in at least a year. In a weird way, I miss God. It’s funny, but I actually still pray sometimes…maybe out of habit. But even if God answered now, I’m not sure I’d believe. I’m not sure I want to go back. I’ve started over, and honestly, I think I’m better for it.” 

We might feel an itch to dismiss this kind of testimony, but that would be a mistake. I want to be clear: Not all testimonies of doubt take this shape. You may have a friend or family member with a very different story of doubt. Whatever it looks like, I believe the best next step is to pause and listen (James 1:19) to what they're saying and feeling. When we listen, we might find the underlying issues feeding the doubt. 

Doubt is often nurtured on three common unanswered questions: 1) Is it true? 2) Is it savory? and 3) Is it fulfilling?   

Each of these touches on a different dimension of the human experience. The testimony above jumps back and forth between all three. To shepherd people struggling with faith anxiety, we would do well to adopt a full-orbed answer to faith erosion that speaks to the mind, heart and will.  

Is it true?  

This question largely engages the human intellect, wondering if Christianity can be situated within reality. To ask about the truth of Christianity is to question its believability and viability as a philosophy of life. Is there a God? Is the Bible really His revelation? Can and should I orient my life around supposed facts pertaining to the person and work of God in redemptive history?   

Any good apologetics textbook will provide answers to these kinds of questions. My concern is that sometimes––in answering these questions––we win the argument but lose the person. When people express doubts about the truth of Christianity, they don’t always need an answer mill; they need a guide on the journey of discovery. Truth is more likely to lodge itself in a person’s mind when that person has arrived at the truth on their own through a process of discovery. I recommend taking these three steps in engaging the skeptic:  

1. Ask follow-up questions to help give you a fuller understanding of their doubts and concerns, and to help you discern if they desire the truth or only to win an argument. Ask open-ended questions that facilitate reflection. Ask your questions with genuine curiosity and empathy. Let them know you really want their answer. People can see through wooden, mechanical conversational formulas.  
2. When appropriate, validate the concern by recognizing they’re not alone and that their quest for truth is a legitimate and worthy pursuit. Maybe through dialogue, your own assumptions will be challenged, and in your vulnerability, you and your skeptical friend can grow together toward the truth.  
3. Invite them to join you in seeking answers with an open mind. If you don’t have an answer, invite them on a journey into the robust Christian intellectual tradition of faith seeking understanding by meeting with them for Bible study, inviting them to join a discussion group or––my personal favorite––asking them to engage with you in a book club that delves into thoughtful Christian literature around important cultural issues.   

Our intellect is a vital, God-given dimension of our being. It needs to be nourished with truth. Christians, as truth-seekers, serve this world well when they care for the minds of both their skeptical friends and fellow believers by guiding them to acquire more true beliefs and fewer false ones.    

Is it savory?  

Does Christianity “taste good”? Unlike the question of truth and its impact on the intellect, the savoriness of Christianity is a matter of the emotions. Those who find Christianity unsavory often do so because of a bad experience with the Church or a shabby Christian witness in the world. They may have experienced conflict with another Christian. They may have felt unseen and unloved within the Church community. They may have watched as Christians behaved poorly in public discourse or online. Jesus thus becomes guilty by association with His people.   

As you talk with someone struggling with church hurt, consider your own experiences with the hurt you have felt and the hurt you have caused. We've all been on both the giving and receiving end of church hurt. But you can remind those who question their faith that the relational pain and public embarrassment caused by other Christians is not just a Christian problem, it’s a human problem that requires a response rooted in humility and love.  

Think of it this way: In conflict resolution, a mediator might ask both parties to share positive qualities they see in the other. This process softens us and reminds us of the good in our perceived enemy.  

In the same way, we can invite skeptics to explore the positive qualities of Jesus and the good that Jesus and His followers have done and are doing in the world. Through this exercise, they might see that Jesus isn’t so bad after all. He healed the sick. He forgave sins. He was a friend to those in need. He taught us how to love God, and He loved us perfectly. His followers carried on His work, caring for the poor and the outcasts, building universities and hospitals, and serving communities throughout the world. They produced great works of art and literature. They influenced policies that brought justice to the oppressed. Though it’s easy to focus on the ugly side of the Church, let’s look deeper.  

Even if skeptics are hesitant to see the good in Jesus, we can show them the good He sees in them. They are God’s precious and beloved creation (Gen. 1:31). They are objects of His mercy and self-sacrificial love (Rom. 5:8). He sees them as worthy, not because of anything they have accomplished, but because He has declared them to be so (Gen. 1:27; Ps. 139:14). God has a lot to say about us. Are we willing to invite our skeptical friends to listen to what God has to say?  

My advice to those questioning the savoriness of Christianity is this: Don’t give up on the Church just yet. Jesus not only modeled a better way to live; He died to make us alive to a new way of living (Eph 4:23). Hurt people may not be ready to show up on Sunday morning, but you can create other opportunities for them to reengage with Christ and His people. Invite them to dinner. Spend time with them. Introduce them to a caring small group where they can heal. Give them a place to belong and rebuild trust. This will take time and emotional presence. But it’s worth the investment.  

Is it fulfilling?  

This question touches on the human will and our inclination to accept God’s trustworthiness and whether God answers prayer. How many mothers and fathers have prayed for the healing of a sick child, only to see that child die? How many husbands and wives have prayed for their marriage, only to see it end in divorce? Isn’t God supposed to give us whatever we ask in the name of Jesus (John 14:13)?   

Anyone who has prayed a desperate prayer knows the joy, pain, longing and confusion that likely accompany that prayer. But one thing God will always give us in prayer is the opportunity to engage our will and take a step closer to Him. Christianity fulfills our deepest most fundamental needs. Yes, we want a generally carefree and happy life. But there are deeper needs still. God has placed eternity in our hearts (Eccl. 3:11). We ache for intimacy with our Creator.   

I recall a time I prayed fervently for months for an answer to a major life decision. I never got the clarity I asked for. Instead, God gave me Himself. I grew close to him in that season. Looking back, the decision wasn’t all that important. It all worked out. But I’ll never forget the beauty of the moments God gave me in His presence.  

You can encourage those in similar seasons of doubt that prayer offers something greater than granting requests––it draws us closer to God. Christianity satisfies, not only in what it gives us, but in Who it gives us. God’s future promise is that we will enjoy His presence eternally. We can encourage skeptics that there is a now and future answer to their needs (Rev. 21:4). We may only glimpse part of this answer today, but there will be a future time when we will see it all clearly and experience the fullness of His healing love (1 Cor. 13:12). 

A stronger retaining wall

Doubt is not just a problem faced by those outside the doors of the Church. Doubt is a shared experience of the human condition. Even faithful followers of Jesus have had their moments of questioning. Peter doubted (Mat. 14:28-31). So did Thomas, just to name a few (John 20:24-29). What matters is how we manage our doubts. Moments of questioning can lead to greater faith or utter rejection of God. This is why we need a framework for navigating the vicissitudes of the mind, emotions and will. This is why we need a retaining wall. 

The construction of retaining walls requires a great deal of work. Answering objections, shaping hearts and inviting a closer look at the person and work of Jesus demands we walk patiently with skeptics. It insists we invite them into thoughtful biblical engagement. It asks that we reignite curiosity and awe of the transcendent. It requires us to move—to take a step closer to Jesus.   

I’m convinced that pastors and church leaders who understand the three dimensions of doubt can help their congregations build a stronger retaining wall for the faith—a wall that has Christ as its cornerstone.