Is It a Sin to Have Some Doubts?

When I was 16, I went to Six Flags in Dallas with a group from my church because it was Christian Family Day or something, and they had a big Christian concert that night. I had a great day filled with roller coasters and flirting with girls, and then came time for the concert in the Six Flags outdoor amphitheater. There were a couple of opening acts, and then the headliner: Gospel Music Hall of Famer Twila Paris.

By the time she took the stage, it was dark, and we were up on a hill, so we could see for miles. I saw lightning in the distance, coming closer by the minute. Soon we were hearing thunder, too. The wind picked up, and then came the rain. Twila and her band left the stage once, but before her audience left, Twila ran back out like a boss and offered to play one more song – her most famous hit called God Is in Control.

The crowd went nuts. Twila screamed into the mic, “I know it’s ugly out here, but I know this song is true, and we know God will hold back this storm and let us worship!”  And the audience was so happy. That was the first moment I ever remember looking at Christians and thinking, “I’m not like these people,” because I loved God and Twila Paris as much as the next guy, but I knew a funnel cloud when I saw one.

And sure enough, halfway through “God is in Control,” the wind got crazy, the power went out, and the band rushed offstage. I got up and ran as fast as I could out of that theater and toward the parking lot. By the time I reached the church van, a tornado had touched down less than a mile away. Water came up past my ankles, and hail fell from the sky.

Ever since that night I’ve thought twice before saying something like, “God is in control.” Whenever I hear Christians say something like that, I can’t help thinking about the tornado that interrupted Twila, and about people who are going through some real-life storms of their own. How does “God is in control” sound to someone who’s lonely, or someone who’s lost a child, or a couple who can’t get pregnant? If God is in control of your awful circumstances, what does that say about God?

I remember the ride home on that church van; it was the first time I ever doubted God. I wondered then if my doubts made me a sinner, and since that night, I’ve met hundreds of others who sit on the fence of faith and wonder the same.

Christians have to be careful when we say things like “God is in control” because we might be misrepresenting God. When someone who has doubts about God gets the impression that being a Christian means having all the answers and never doubting, that person may also get the impression they don’t belong with Jesus because they can’t reconcile their experiences with a loving God who is always in control.

The fact is, we Christians come from a long line of doubters. All the great biblical heroes had their doubts. And that includes Jesus, who wasn’t always so sure about that whole crucifixion plan (Luke 22:42). What makes the people in the bible heroes isn’t their certainty; it’s that they had doubts, and they did it anyway. Noah doubted, but he built the ark anyway. Abraham doubted, but he left his father’s house anyway. Sarah doubted, but she tried to get pregnant anyway. Moses doubted, but he faced the Pharaoh anyway. Mary doubted, but she said, “Here I am” anyway.

You can doubt and be a Christian. The question for Christians isn’t whether or not you have doubts; it’s what you do with your doubt. Yann Martel writes in The Life of Pi, “If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer, if he burst out from the cross, My God, why have you forsaken me? then surely we are permitted to doubt. But we must move on. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation.”

It’s okay to doubt, but it’s toxic to let your doubts paralyze you. For Christians, it’s okay to say we don’t understand everything that happens in the world. We don’t know why bad things happen to good people or why tornadoes interrupt Christian concerts. It doesn’t water down our faith to say “We don’t know,” because faith isn’t about having all the answers. Faith is about having some doubts, and following Jesus anyway.