Rachel Evans thinks doubt is a part of faith. In fact she thinks doubt can save your faith–provided you have the faith to doubt and the courage to learn from it what God may be showing you.

I agree with Rachel, and I wish I could say it as well as she does in her just-published memoir Evolving in Monkey Town.

Like a lot of people out there, I picked up the book (actually, Rachel gave me a copy at a conference –yeah me), and I couldn’t put it down. It struck a cord with me (here and here), but more importantly, it became quickly clear to me that there are a LOT of people who will benefit from Rachel’s honesty and insights.

Rachel connects with Christians who believe the Gospel, or think they do, or want to, but whose inner-theological gatekeeper collides with their life experience. Evangelicalism and fundamentalism are losing steam for many young people–not because they are rebellious or naive or unlearned–but because the ecclesiastical and theological paradigms with which they are familiar have lost their explanatory power.

Critics will say that subjective experience does not determine theological truth. This is false, since any articulation of theological truth involves an inescapable subjective dimension. My proof for this is the theological diversity that has existed throughout the history of the church and continues today throughout the world.

Subjective experience, such as Rachel’s, actually exposes the inadequacies of any theological tradition when it holds itself in too high regard. It reminds us, sometimes painfully, that these traditions are not the Gospel itself but impermanent ways of understanding it. They are provisional, always in need of refinement, adjustment, augmentation, deletion–and when and where need be, abandonment.

Rachel’s critics will likely mistake her criticism of the paradigms with criticism of the Gospel itself–which precisely misses the point of the book.  Rachel’s crisis of faith was fueled by her religious education, which failed to distinguish between the two--to question one is to question the other.

In a word, this book is about how Rachel learned to stop doing that. Such a journey is risky, because it involves moving away from all that is familiar and comforting. But for Rachel and many like her, staying put is not an option.

Hartshorne was Professor of Philosophy and Religion at Colgate with a Th.D from Union Theological Seminary. He studied under Paul Tillich.

The book’s thesis is this: Doubt and Faith are inseparable, and this is the Protestant way. He looks at several areas of 20th century intellectual criticism and argues that Protestants need to listen to these critiques in order to become more consistently Christian, rather than allay religious doubts by offering ready answers that ignore the criticisms.

There are some holes in the book, and it is a bit dated in some respects. (Yes, that was the standard academic statement I am bound by union contract to give whenever I am about to engage another academic.) Still, I found what he had to say very interesting, even timely. He looks at the following criticisms of Christianity: Psychological (Freud), Sociological (Marx), Epistemological (can we really “know” that God exists?), Moral (problem of evil), and Natural Religion (man’s search for meaning).

At each point the author says, “Listen to the criticism. It is valid because Protestantism has lost its biblical, prophetic voice and become simply ‘religion.’ These criticisms show us where Christianity has turned to idolatry. They also remind us that honest and creative doubt have always been and will always be  part of the Christian experience.”

I was struck by how Hartshorne limits this to a specifically Protestant trait when in fact the Roman Catholic tradition was there centuries earlier. Leaving that to the side, here are a couple of quotes to give you a feel for the book.

“From the prophetic perspective, religion is the highest expression of human sin. Because it allegedly serves him who is above all criticism, religion can neatly cloak the pretensions and perversions of he human spirit and give them the appearance of godliness. God is thus made to bless idolatry. Forms and means of divine worship such as prayers, ceremonies, priesthood, and synagogue readily become the occasion of self worship, concealing the pride and folly out of which they spring” (p. 6)

Feel free to translate that observation to the denomination of your choice.

Speaking of the Marxist critique that religions reflect the basic social structures that sustain them, Hartshorne welcomes the recognition of cultural relativity as a critique of the “transient character of our religious beliefs and the social dynamics of their change” (p. 38) He continues the thought on pp. 38.

“For the poisons of obscurantism and dogmatism, relativism is a healthy antidote. It compels us to recognize the limited character of our wisdom and of the historical situation in which we necessarily must make our judgment and form our beliefs. We do not stand above history, but in it. Our insights, including our religious insights, are ours–a reflection of the social context in which our lot is cast. In this regard cultural relativism is quite congenial with biblical faith. The Bible knows nothing of an eternal human wisdom transcending men’s historical limitations.”

If I wanted to, I could parse out some of what he says here and criticize it, but the heart of his observation remains. He then goes on to show, correctly, how the Bible itself reflects the cultures in which they were written: Jesus and the NT authors share beliefs current among Jews of the time, Genesis reflects ancient cosmology, etc., etc.

If doubt is an active topic in your Christian journey, you might want to take a look at this book.