The Pew Research Center has released its newest study revealing that the U.S. public is becoming less religious, which is believed to be attributed to the growing amount of "nones," that is, those that do not claim to belong to any certain religious tradition. This group of "nones" is largely comprised of Millennials. Stunningly, the study did however find that those who are religiously devout are even more so than a few years ago. This data is telling of the generational gaps and polarizing effects of the differentiation vis-à-vis faith and values. Speculation surrounds the causation of this phenomenon, but there is definitely much to learn from our own stories.
A few years ago, I wrote a blog entitled, "Three Ways Religion Has Failed Us." In it, I argued, as a Millennial, that religion has too often felt limiting, seemingly serving as an inhibitor to the development of science and our questions and critique. The rigidity of dogmatic "either/or" structures squelches the ability to hold multiple ideas in tension or to see ideas as "both/and." This breakdown in our understanding of others and the world keeps us from truly experiencing a spirituality that is life-giving and freedom-fostering. Instead, those that do not subscribe to the "either/or" are wounded by the very ones that are entrusted to care for them. This breach of trust is the antithesis of faith.
One of the greatest sources of angst I have felt is the religious faithful's responses to my doubt. At first, I tried to be honest about it; but, for some reason, I began to feel that my doubt was not welcome- in fact, it appears to have been treated as weakness, which carries the social stigma of shame. As a result, I felt ashamed to doubt; I felt insincere when I prayed or sang songs, knowing that I was saying things I was not sure I was comfortable with saying; and sadly, I grew fearful to share my doubts and concerns. I felt alone. I can not explain how or why, but I experience doubt differently. It does not hinder my faith, but actually enhances it. Doubt stretches my faith; faith stretches my doubt. All of which is healthily helping me along the path of my own spiritual journey. But the Church has lost so many people that walked away under the shame of doubt, the fear of others' judgments and expectations.
This separation manifested itself in my chaplain visit to a lady this past week. I sat as the woman told me about her faith; even in her sickness, she "believed and trusted God." I responded by encouraging her in her faith and asking if she has found that to be helpful. She then told me that as long as she "does not doubt," God was pleased. According to her, we do not need to understand everything or even ask questions, just believe it. I left the room with a heavy heart. There was no margin for her to doubt; no, her faith was a blind acceptance that leaves no room to wonder or to wander. This version of faith does not sit well with me -perhaps it is my Millennial tendency to question authority, but I can not accept a faith that I am not free to doubt.
Then I am reminded of the Apostle Thomas' bold ultimatum in the Gospel of John that, "unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe" (20:25; NRSV). To traditional standards, this is not faith. We learn from the story that Thomas believes after seeing and touching Jesus' wounds- leading to the phrase, "Doubting Thomas." I would like to point out that Jesus does not reject Thomas. Rather, Jesus welcomes Thomas' doubt and allows him to touch his wounds. This speaks much more about Jesus than it does Thomas. After all that had transpired, Thomas' doubt is plausible; but Jesus' response to that doubt is not shame or rejection, but an acceptance that beautifully leads Thomas to belief.
I cannot help but wonder what our faith traditions would look like if we accepted the doubting? What might it look like, not to fix or convince, but sincerely love and care and walk with people in their struggling? What would it look like to see doubt as a gift?
I love the beautiful picture that Rob Bell paints in, "WHAT WE TALK ABOUT WHEN WE TALK ABOUT GOD; "Take faith, for example. For many people in our world, the opposite of faith is doubt. The goal, then, within this understanding, is to eliminate doubt. But faith and doubt aren't opposites. Doubt is often a sign that your faith has a pulse, that it's alive and well and exploring and searching. Faith and doubt aren't opposites, they are, it turns out, excellent dance partners."
I, for one, do not want to miss out on the divine "dance" that awaits me.