Getting the Doubt Out
In an attempt to be sympathetic, there are preachers who will tell us that doubting is normal, that even the greatest saints of God have struggled with this, that we shouldn't be too hard on our self whenever doubting occurs. Sounds humane. But is this good advice? Maybe not.
Sometimes, what we call doubt isn't really that. We may have found ourselves asking a question for which we don't have an immediate answer. That's normal. We just need to seek an answer; this is how we learn.
At times, though, we may encounter a problem that is very personal, very troubling, and way worse than a yet-to-be-answered bible question. Paul experienced that. In II Corinthians 4:8 he said, “we are perplexed," which is to say: We don't have an explanation for what has happened to us. But then Paul quickly adds in the next verse that we're not in despair, not forsaken, not destroyed; and in verse 16 he stated, "we do not lose heart.”
Now, every one of those conditions could have resulted had doubt taken over. But it didn't. It is in this chapter Paul explains exactly how he got the doubt out. And it was essential that he do so; because had the doubt remained, it would have sabotaged his emotions, weakened his will, neutralized his faith, and put victory out of reach.
We see that truth illustrated by comparing two great men of God, Elijah and John the Baptist, both of whom encountered serious doubts. But one man handled it poorly and the other man did not.
Most of us are familiar with the Elijah of Mount Carmel fame, the man who, in a high noon showdown, stood bravely against all the prophets and priests of Baal. The drama was intense. Elijah bowed his head, said a fifteen-second prayer, and then ... and then ... Heaven responded with a flash of fire so hot it consumed not only the sacrifice but also the altar! What followed, the Bible tells us, was a complete routing of the enemy, whereby all those seducers of the soul and ministers of a lie were put to the sword.
No sooner had this occurred, when the edict of Jezebel came to Elijah announcing: “May the gods kill me if I don’t kill you by this time tomorrow!”
Well, with that edict, both declared and delivered—and, worse still, both received and believed—Elijah took off running and never looked back! For more than forty miles he ran, until finally Elijah curled up in a prenatal position under a juniper tree and began to beg God to let him die.
What happened? Why this fast meltdown into timidity? Had all of Elijah’s courage remained there on the mountain?
Attempting to resurrect some courage in his prophet, the Lord put on this show of supernatural display, sending a tornado and an earthquake. So did that persuade this prophet that maybe, just maybe, God did have the power to protect him against this woman? No, Elijah repeated the same sorry speech after this earth-trembling, mountain-ripping show of supernatural power.
You remember what he had said: how no one else had done as well as he, how God didn’t do a good job of protecting his servants, how Elijah was now the last faithful man left. Word for word, this same sorry speech was given again!
Despite receiving a ministry no one else ever received, Elijah wouldn’t alter his thinking. He was spiritually stuck. Samuel Chadwick, the nineteenth-century British pastor, said, “It is wonderful what God can do with a broken heart, if he gets all the pieces.” But this is precisely what Elijah wouldn’t give!
And did you realize that this refusal brought Elijah’s ministry to a close? What happened soon afterwards was the transitioning of Elijah’s ministry to Elisha.
Reflecting on this sudden development, A.B. Simpson remarked, “How swiftly he was excused. How soon his successor was elected!”
The reason for this abrupt transition was simply this: If Elijah was going to be this unteachable despite God’s very patient attempts to straighten him out, then—even though God’s love for Elijah hadn’t diminished at all—God just couldn’t use him anymore, at least not during this age. So, unwilling for his redemptive purposes to be thwarted by one man, the Lord had to issue another call—bring on Elisha.
I wonder how many Christians find themselves spiritually stuck right now because they, too, concluded that God has failed them; and they, too, became engulfed in the bile of bitterness and would not allow God to alter their thinking.
Upon surveying today’s sizeable group of sidelined saints, we can see that one who stood on a certain promise of the Lord, just knowing that God would honor it and that the desired outcome would miraculously manifest. But, as it turned out, the desired outcome didn't manifest in the way he thought it would—despite prayers, faith, patience, and a very commendable steadfastness.
Consequently, because of this inexplicable hurt, this person doesn’t want to trust God again. Oh, he still comes to church, much like the disciples who, as they departed Gethsemane that night, followed the Lord from afar. But make no mistake about it: This person’s foundations have been shaken—so much so that the little hope left includes Heaven, but it doesn’t include earth.
By contrast, when John the Baptist got into doubt, he didn’t allow his doubt to become despondency. Instead of giving confusion the upper hand, he did what so many others don’t do: He went with a teachable spirit to the right person, right away.
For John, the situation was serious. He was put in jail and was about to get his head cut-off. More troubling to him, though, was that the Messiah he had just announced wasn't doing what John thought he would do.
The entire focus of John's life—his years of holy preparation, his preaching that brought thousands to repentance, his willingness to give it all up and encourage others to leave him and go to Jesus—now had its integrity at stake. Was it all a mistake? This question was more threatening to John than Herod was.
You know the story. John sends men to Jesus. The question is posed. The answer is given. The doubt ends, and John regains his faith.
Throughout the Scripture, in both Old Testament and New, there are pleas and promises about being “confounded” and “ashamed.” The pleas are for this not to occur; the promises assure it need not occur. These two words, “confounded” and “ashamed,” are repeatedly linked—and for obvious reasons! Because if we are confounded—so confused about what is transacting in our circumstances—we are likely to react exactly as Elijah did, in a manner that brings shame!
For this reason, then, we must be open to the clarity the Lord is willing to provide. Because not to be open—but choosing instead to remain stubborn in our conclusions and fixated in our thinking—is to assure the ominous outcome of staying spiritually stuck, which is what happened to Elijah.
We have to get the doubt out!
