Mark 9:24, “I believe; help my unbelief.” The boy’s father affirms two things. He believes. He doesn’t believe. There seems to be no contradiction between (A) the father’s affirmation of faith; and (B) the father’s admission of unbelief. There is much we can learn from this. First, both faith and doubt are common experiences of disciples. Second, faith and doubt mixed is no obstacle to Jesus’ healing. Third, there is a difference between doubt and denial.

Alec Ryrie has helpfully written about the difference between doubt and denial.¹ In the 13th century, the Roman Catholic canon law distinguished between “deniers” and “doubters.” Deniers receive God’s judgment. Doubters deserve sympathy. Yet doubting Thomas has never been an accolade.

Doubt and denial have very different characters. The disposition of denial is as rebellious as its effect is dreadful. Sophistic syllogisms become the accomplice of declamations against a dismissed deity. The spirit of unbelief wants safety from the dungeons and iron cages of God, God’s Word, and God’s world. Denial of God is outrage at the rights of God, hiding behind the pretext of a most scrupulous concern for fairness in the face of the moral horror of God’s sovereignty over all things (Rom. 9:14-23).

The disposition of doubt, in contrast, is tender and delicate. The claim of the doubter is prior to the demands of faith, not in exclusion of it; it is genuine in title, not without a constructive character. Doubts have many sources. Some are possessed by acquisition, others by inheritance, and still others by participation in the folly of some community. But it is not in the nature of doubt to mortgage faith as a pawn for queries. If handled poorly, doubts can stiffen into the odious rigor of ambiguous legality that slaps God with the charge of boundless despotism. But if handled well, doubts can grow into great faith, and with it, great spiritual power.

The life of J. Gresham Machen reminds us to have patience with young strugglers who are struck with the temporary deliberations of doubt. When Machen returned to Princeton from his graduate studies in Germany, he was full of doubts. Surrounded by the influence of theological liberalism in Germany, including the charismatic sway of Adolf von Harnack, Machen’s faith was vulnerable. But the faculty at Princeton gave Machen room to work through his questions with profound and constant sympathy. Machen found victory over the doubts and exercised his faith for the kingdom until the day he died.²

Doubt, in many cases, is a temptation, not a sin. When God permits the devil to tempt his people, he does so for a reason. Temptation is not simply a meaningless attack to be repulsed. It is trial by combat: a training arena from which the victor emerges stronger. The temptation to doubt can be respected. It is also an opportunity to grow stronger.

When the boy’s father says, “I believe; help my unbelief,” he implies that faith and doubt are not alternatives, but companions. In the course of a Christian’s life, they are inevitably intertwined. To admit this is to say nothing other than that a Christian’s faith is imperfect. Christian faith can be weak and incomplete. William Perkins, the imminent Puritan pastor, said, “True faith, being imperfect, is always accompanied with doubting, more or less.”³ Richard Hooker, another Puritan pastor, said, “Faith when it is at its strongest is but weak, yet when it is at the weakest” it is strong.⁴

We see this principle in Scripture. In 1 Corinthians 15:43, that which “is sown in weakness … is raised in power.” In 2 Corinthians 12:9 God tells Paul, “My power is made perfect in weakness.” In Hebrews 11:34 we are told that the Old Testament saints “were made strong out of weakness.”

Why is this the case? Why is God’s power made perfect in weakness? It’s because when you are most aware of the weakness of your faith, you are most likely to throw yourself entirely on God for help. There is a way to be faithful in weakness, even as you are weak in faith. So, doubt doesn’t necessarily mean apostasy. Doubt might just mean you are living. How so? In the same way that if you don’t feel any pain, you must already be dead.⁵ If you don’t feel vertigo when you look down, you must be at the bottom of the pit.

God has purpose in your weakness. God has purpose in your doubting. Think of it like this.

The tree benefits when the strong wind blows its branches back and forth. This strengthens the roots. The shaking settles and roots the tree. Likewise, doubt purifies those who pass through it and makes them stronger where it counts, in their roots. Richard Sibbes wrote, “Nothing is so certain as that which is certain after doubts.”⁶ This is how perseverance happens.

The point isn’t that we should seek out doubts. But the great Edinburgh preacher of the 17th century, Robert Bruce, taught his congregation that they shouldn’t flee from doubt. They should set their feet and grapple with it. It’s not that the more one doubts the more virtuous they are. The assumption is that we will doubt, much like the sick boy’s father doubted in Mark 9. And since doubt is inevitable, we ought not to ignore or suppress our doubts. We need to lean into them in the hope and expectation that our Heavenly Father will use them as the road to a firmer, more mature faith.⁷

We also have to admit, that for some, it doesn’t work this way. Some people’s doubt leads to a strengthened faith. But other people doubt and their faith is weakened. Sometimes a soldier is tougher for being battle-hardened. Sometimes a soldier is weaker for being wounded. That’s why we need to reflect on the way God uses doubt to sanctify us. And this he does in a way that leaves those who persevere, stronger in the end.

Jason Cherry is an elder at Trinity Reformed Church in Huntsville, Alabama, as well as a teacher and lecturer of literature, history, and economics at Providence Classical School in Huntsville. He graduated from Reformed Theological Seminary with an MA in Religion and is the author of the books The Culture of Conversionism and the History of the Altar Call and The Making of Evangelical Spirituality.

Footnotes

¹ Alec Ryrie, Unbelievers: An Emotional History of Doubt, pg 139ff.

² For a sympathetic approach to dealing with doubters, see the book by Sean McDowell and John Marriot, Set Adrift: Deconstructing What You Believe Without Sinking Your Faith.

³ William Perkins, An Exposition of the Lord’s Prayer (London: Wolfe, Bourne, & Porter, 1593), 161.

⁴ Richard Hooker, A Learned and Comfortable Sermon of the Certaintie and Perpetuitie of Faith in the Elect (Oxford: Barnes, 1612), 7-10.

⁵ Andrew Solomon. The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression (New York: Scribner, 2001), 24.

⁶ Sibbes, Richard. The Bruised Reed (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth Trust, 2011), 28.

⁷ William Cunningham (ed.), Sermons by the Rev. Robert Bruce, Minister of Edinburgh (Edinburgh: Wodrow Society, 1843), 144.