Doubt

by Br. Leven Harton

“Sensations, feelings. What you want is a sign, a real sign . . . The Lord speaks to prophets personally and He’s never spoke to you, never lifted a finger, never dropped a gesture.”

So speaks the devil to the protagonist (Young Tarwater) of Flannery O’Connor’s novel The Violent Bear it Away. O’Connor articulates a deeper spiritual experience, one that can afflict any Christian: the suffering of doubt. When our faith convictions begin to crumble under the pressure of doubt, it can be traumatic and scandalizing. Could it be that what we have believed is simply not true? Are the decisions we’ve made based on our faith tradition simply a waste? Are we really secure in the providence of a loving God? Is it not difficult to believe in such a comprehensive view of reality (there are so many other perspectives!)?

We often speak of doubt as rational skepticism, the feeling that I don’t have enough evidence for what I believe; like the traditional representation of “Doubting Thomas.” However, it is important to observe the tactic employed by O’Connor’s marvelous depiction of the devil. This devil is not concerned with logical arguments and physical proof—he is interested in Young Tarwater’s experience. Specifically, the devil aims at distorting Tarwater’s understanding of what he experiences in his interior. The protagonist’s sense of a Presence toward him, a connection with his Creator, is what the devil chooses to attack, and his method is subtle: he belittles Tarwater’s experience. The temptation to doubt, in this case, is not a purely rational threat. Rather, it shames the person through a kind of taunting suggestion that faith is different than what one has experienced, much grander and (certainly) more obvious than one’s “sensations” and “feelings.” This method of attack is insidious, for it is to turn our most sacred hopes against us. Tarwater’s (and our) lofty expectations of the encounter with the Lord are not misguided. Jesus has said in no uncertain terms that He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life—we should expect nothing less. This magnitude of desire is unavoidable in the human heart and it spurs us (if we listen to it) to pass by lesser goods, seeking that which does satisfy. Following this desire with patience and perseverance, our relationship with God grows and blossoms into a foretaste that is full, a suggestion that is complete, a true correspondence. But the devil in The Violent Bear it Away has expertly arrested this following for Tarwater, he has distorted the holy expectation to make it a device that produces shame.

This characterization of doubt is a helpful meditation for Christians today. Few people in our culture have much patience for faith; many voices are liable to repeat in various forms the devil’s accusation against believers that all we have for our convictions is “sensations, feelings.” These voices challenge us to abandon the path to joy. I think it is justifiable to call these accusations what they are: shaming tactics that reach beyond the accuser’s own realm of experience into our own, inviolable hearts. The only one having my experience of God’s nearness to me, after all, is me. The type of doubt that arises from thinking that my own experiences are so meager and common, so silly and trivial, is really not worth following at all. We can have confidence in our own experience of

God’s connection to us. We are justified in naming our experience for ourselves.

However, we can have some common sense about inspirations and our awareness of God’s communication with us. The Big Book from “Alcoholics Anonymous” has some insightful words on this topic: “[When facing indecision] we ask God for an inspiration, an intuitive thought or a decision. We relax and take it easy... It is not probable that we are going to be inspired at all times. We might pay for this presumption in all sorts of absurd actions and ideas. Nevertheless, we find that our thinking will, as time passes, be more and more on the plane of inspiration. We come to rely upon it” (86-7).

There is no need for any of us to stubbornly insist upon the unimpeachable authenticity of our contact with God at every moment. It does not discredit our own personal adherence to our faith to reserve judgment when we begin to speak about some of our spiritual experiences. In fact, if we want to avoid anxious and irrational defenses of our convictions and our faith life, we can help the matter by being humble before the mystery of God. Let’s remember that He initiated the process: before any of us began to believe, God came into our world through the Incarnation and reached out to us. He gave us faith as a gift. Our most religious act is not organizing our experiences into an ironclad, rationalistic defense, but the submission of responding to Jesus’ persistent invitation. Over time we can become good at responding. And if we take this gentle approach to our prayer and toward our convictions, we will find peace in belief. This peace in belief is a safeguard against the temptations of the devil and the anxiety caused by the misunderstanding of our contemporaries. Doubt recedes into the background when we don’t have to prove ourselves right all the time. It might be the case that certain moments of inspiration turn out to be just sensations or feelings, for me: my channel to the Lord is muddled with my own willfulness, fear, and confusion. Indeed, it would be surprising if I saw it all clearly. However, I know for a fact that the Lord has offered me his counsel at times, and that I have received his consolation, unexpectedly, simply, and undeniably. But only undeniably for me. I know my life has been changed since I began to listen to him. I don’t live with as much willfulness, fear, and confusion since I began to listen. Joy has become a possibility, tantalizing and encouraging.

Following the hope that is at my core is a more attractive proposition. It takes courage to do it, especially in today’s unbelieving atmosphere. Any believer who perseveres will eventually run up against the devil from O’Connor’s story, and that is ok. When we face a doubt that would shame us into disregarding or distorting our experiences, we should keep it simple, persevere. Our faith is expressed in a set of convictions, in dogma, but is experienced as a journey, a path that leads to joy.