Doubtin’ Thomas
Rex Daugherty, 2022 Artist-in-Residence
I don’t know about you, but when I’m talking to someone and they have the bravery to answer a question with “I don’t know,” I inherently trust that person. “I don’t know” is a humble, instantly relatable reply that shows me that this person isn’t afraid to be honest. I also like it because I am someone who regularly has a lot of Doubt, so “know-it-alls” are a big turn off.
Rachel Held Evans wrote, “on the days that I believe” in her book Inspired – referencing her struggle with her doubts of the Christian faith. When I read that line, my first thought was “oh thank God someone else feels that way!” It was a breath of fresh air for another Christian to admit that they have doubts about their faith. I grew up in an evangelical church where the evils of Doubt got a lot of air time from the pulpit and church leadership. From pastors to Sunday school teachers and even youth group interns, they all told us that Doubt was the enemy. It was for those with a weak faith. I even had a Sunday School teacher who took the middle school boys class out to the city water tower, located at the edge of the church parking lot. He read the scripture where Jesus says, “Truly I tell you that if anyone says to this mountain, 'Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,' and has no doubt in his heart but believes that it will happen, it will be done for him.” Then he told us if we truly believed, we could move the water tower. I THINK he was trying to offer a visual illustration on how powerful faith can be…this was central Oklahoma and since the Great Plains didn’t have any mountains to help his lesson plan, he went with the next best thing…the water tower of Moore Oklahoma. Proud Home of Toby Keith.
But my middle school Sunday school teacher wasn’t alone. A lot of church teachings are fond of stories from scripture where doubt is proof that someone is a failure. The Israelites wandering in the desert couldn’t go 15 minutes without completely losing their religion - the fools! That super old guy whatshisname was struck mute because he didn’t believe that he would have a child. That’ll show her! And Thomas…poor Thomas – cleverly nicknamed DOUBTIN’ THOMAS – is the subject of countless sermons because of his absolute failure as a true believer. Clearly, a total jerk! But this pile-on has always bothered me. Even when I was laughing with the boys as we body checked the water tower, praying-in-jest for it to be thrown into the (very far away) sea. We knew it wasn’t going to move. And I knew we were missing a core truth…the water tower in the room that no one seemed to admit was…we all have doubts!
I’ve come to believe that all of these stories of doubt that are in the Bible aren’t there to prove human failure – maaaaaaaybe they are there to acknowledge that doubt is a perfectly reasonable, totally natural part of being human.
And since doubt is a fundamental aspect of being human, then it comes as no surprise that doubt is a significant part of the artistic process. The arts are, afterall, an exploration of our humanity. Art (and science) is about asking questions – which has historically made the Church afraid of the arts (and definitely science). These questions - these doubts - are essential to our humanity. We have imaginations that spark us to wonder, “is there a better way of doing this?” and “has anyone else ever thought of this, felt this way, described falling in love with these words?” Or perhaps more dangerously – “is any of this real?” In the beautiful and complex matrix of reason and emotion that we humans are, doubt leads us to a more rigorous faith in what we do and why we do it. If we aren’t regularly questioning our faith, then are we truly engaging with it? Also in her book Inspired, Evans points out that anyone who has a child will know that “the faith of a child” isn’t blind belief. A child asks – incessantly – WHY? Why is the sky blue? Why is the Earth round? Why is the stove hot and why can’t I touch it? Why why why? My own kid doesn’t ask questions about the galaxy because he thinks it’s all a lie…he asks questions because he’s fascinated. I don’t think Jesus wants us to be mindless drones in our faith – robotically accepting some Apostles Creed without question - he wants us to be childlike in order to be fascinated with our faith. He wants us to be engaged.
So when Jesus says that faith can move mountains he wants us to think, “but wait – that’s impossible, right?” He wants us to question his words in order to understand them. Those who doubt this passage as literally impossible will interrogate the text to understand that Jesus isn’t talking about tossing actual mountains around, like some insane Superman…he’s talking about engaging with our faith. What happens when you are disappointed by what you thought God would do for you? Do you immediately give up - “well God isn’t real!” or do you still look for God? If you keep looking, you might find the mountain was a metaphor for something else.
My parents’ marriage was on the rocks for years, and for years I prayed that God would heal their relationship, but it ended in a bitter divorce that still has difficult repercussions for my family today, 21 years later. For some time, I walked away from my faith in the goodness of God because I had asked for that mountain to be moved – and I truly believed it would be – but not only did it NOT move…it became worse than it ever was. I felt betrayed by God, and consequently disengaged from my faith. Bad theology about Doubt had led me astray. God doesn’t ask us to always believe without a shred of doubt. But he wants us to engage. Jesus, in his biggest crisis of doubt, “My God my God, why have you forsaken me?” still engaged with God. Doubt isn’t the opposite of Belief. I think the opposite of Doubt is Dis-Engagement. When we are no longer curious about something, we’ve fallen out of wonder.
This is true of the artistic process. When rehearsing a play (or making any work of art), there is inevitably a long period where the work is embarrassingly bad, and it seems like it couldn’t possibly be saved. These periods are terrible to endure – and are often the reason you hear horror stories of ill-behaved directors or diva actors throwing spectacular tantrums. They are terrified that the show will be a failure. But the key to artistic success is to outlast this period – we can’t disengage from the work or give up. We have to remain curious in order to keep working out the idea. There’s an opening night scheduled, the audience is coming, and artists have a sacred responsibility to put forth the best work we can manage, despite the miserable doubts and fear we have along the way. American theater director Anne Bogart calls this process “exquisite pressure.” I love that term. And after years of recognizing that all of my artistic endeavors have an awful period of doubt, I’ve come to trust the process of engaging with my practice, showing up even if I don’t know all the answers, even if I fear it will end in failure, in order for transformation to occur.
Madeleine L’Engle, in her book Walking on Water, shares that she,
...had yet to learn of the faithfulness of doubt. This is often assumed by the judgmental to be faithlessness, but it is not; it is a prerequisite for a living faith.
Francis Bacon writes in De Augmentis, ‘If we begin with certainties, we will end in doubt. But if we begin with doubts and bear them patiently, we may end in certainty.’
(Walking on Water, page 108)
I’ve learned to love my doubts because they are the fuel that helps me find something beautiful. And consequently, BECAUSE of going through those awful periods of rigorous doubt, I find I am more confidently proud of what I’ve created on the other side. For instance, after I’ve truly put my artistic ideas to the test, I’m less likely to be shaken when a theater critic writes a negative comment or bad review (speaking of exquisite pressure – having your job’s performance evaluation publicly shared in The Washington Post for the world to read can fill you with sinking doubt!).
Despite the pressure, it would be a great tragedy to avoid doubt, which is why I have a soft spot for poor Thomas. I can’t help it – I AM DOUBTIN’ THOMAS…Confession - There are times when I doubt the whole kit and kaboodle of any religion. I know, I know! I’m supposed to be a believer! But there are moments when my Doubts are as big as “all of it.” Sometimes I just can’t bring myself to sing “Blessed Assurance” and I feel a drowning wave of loneliness because everyone else seems so certain of their faith. I can’t always say my belief is rock solid. I’m not Peter, the rock on which Jesus built the church. I’m Doubtin’ Thomas.
But also…I don’t think Jesus made a mistake when he chose Thomas as one of his 12 disciples. I think he picked him not to make an example of his failure, not to get a bad rap from preachers on Sunday mornings - but to include his doubts, his questions, and his full humanity in the gospel story. I wonder if Jesus chose Thomas to make the point that our doubts should be included in the very foundation of the Church because it’s an important part of being human. We have hymns that celebrate our Blessed Assurance but I would dance in the aisle if there was a hymn for our Blessed Doubt!
You may not personally struggle with doubt as much as I do – that’s okay. You might be a Peter. Or a Mary. I’m not here to say everyone needs more doubt in their faith. But just as Thomas needed the other disciples to encourage his belief, I think the church would do well to make more room for those of us who doubt our faith. Jesus made room for Thomas in the 12 people he chose to start the Christian church with, not in spite of his doubts but because of them. The disciples needed Thomas. Look what his doubts do for the disciples in John 14: at the Last Supper, when Jesus tells them that he is about to leave them, going away to prepare a place for them, they are all confounded, unsure of how to respond. But Thomas - with his Blessed
Doubt - asks the first question. He basically says, “What do you mean? Lord, I don’t know…” And it's his doubt that unlocks the conversation for the rest of the group, allowing them to engage with Jesus. Because of Thomas’s inquisitive heart, Philip is emboldened to ask a question, and then Judas (not Iscariot) is brave enough to speak up, and later on all of the disciples are fully engaged in a lively discussion - all because of Doubtin’ Thomas.
During my time as artist in residence, I read a lot of books written by artists who are also believers. And in every book that explored their faith and work, these artists wrote about their doubts. I found so much comfort in that. I believe God created me as an artist. And an artist is a professional doubter. Artists can’t help but to ask questions. And their questions can inspire us all to dig deeper, to question the status quo. Doubt helps us wonder – what else is out there? Doubt helps us bravely explore our big, unknowable questions. If we never wondered if there was anything more to this life, we’d never know eternity. In other words, Doubt leads us to God.
The biggest thought that I want to leave you with at the end of my time as artist in residence is not “go see more theatre” – though I think you should. Or “make sure you pay artists a fair wage for their work,” though I think it’s necessary – the biggest idea I want to leave you with is the artists’ approach to creating, which is to make room for your doubts and the doubts of others. After all, it’s only human.
“Lord I believe, help me with my unbelief.”