I think an honest faith needs to be able to answer questions like these. I think that faith needs to be able to stand the ultimate test, and if we shy away from such doubts, or if we hide behind religious platitudes then we are doing our God, or our religion, a huge disservice. As a Christian I honor God by holding to my faith in the face of doubt, but in order to do this I must recognize my doubt. I must own it and accept it. I find no value for those who treat doubt as though it were the enemy of faith. Many faithful believers exist out there who have so much doubt built up in their hearts that they have allowed their faith to make them the worst liars. For them faith is the act of hiding doubt instead of accepting it. And I would like to note at this point that one can still accept doubt and not be a doubter.
Doubt and faith have an interesting relationship. One that is not necessarily antithetical. Doubt is akin to a disease, a fault, but at the same time it can be a cure and a disease which keeps other diseases at bay. Doubt does not prevent faith, but it does test it. A faith which can exist in the face of doubt can either be turned into something horrid, or something sublime. It becomes horrid when it retreats into itself and isolates itself from the world. It cuts itself off from its source and its integrity. It becomes sublime when it accepts the doubt and exists alongside it. When doubt is validated it is conquered. When it is appeased it conquers us. When it is ignored it eats us alive.
Doubt and faith are compatible. Doubt seems to refer to a state of mind, while faith refers to a state of the will. It is possible to not be able to make sense of a given belief, but to still will ourselves to believe it anyway. This is often considered blind faith, but is it blind when it is admitted? Consider a man who has exhausted all options and discovered that there is no way to intellectually assent to the idea that life is worth living. There is no way to make sense of a meaningful life, but he still wills himself to pursue and find meaning. He still chooses that which makes no sense to him. This man cares very little what doubts he may have. His faith has swallowed them. Once he makes the decision to live a meaningful life the intellectual doubts matter very little. Why?
His experience of the world changes.
The modern man experiences doubt differently then the pre-modern man. In the past doubt made faith a necessity. Doubt drug us down into despair and hopelessness. It made life meaningless. The only option was to have faith. In such an age blind faith was common and understandable, but critical philosophy has done away with the threat of doubt. Doubt becomes a virtue in our modern world. It is the skeptic who is seen as the wise man, and the man who responsibly doubts is one who is successful at finding truth. Although critical philosophy has dulled the teeth of doubt it has not been able to add meaning into human life. It has only guaranteed that such meaning does not have to arise out of necessity. So we are left with a minor distinction. Those who want to live a life by avoiding meaninglessness can successfully do so in our modern world using the tools and resources available to him, but the man who desires to have meaning in his life must face his doubt. He can have the security of knowing that his choice is his own, but it comes at a price. He would have essentially cut himself off from the power of his faith. The recognition that a meaningful life is now his own choice presents the dilemma that our faith may simply be a self-generated illusion.
We have no escape. This is the hard reality that we all face. Any refusal to accept this is only indicative that you have already gone down one of the two roads discussed above. This is the darkside of faith. It has to be accepted, and it has to be experienced. Like Ezekiel and the valley of dry bones and Christ at Golgoltha. Some pains cannot be thwarted. Some injuries cannot be avoided. This is the weakness of faith...
But it is not the end. We can experience the wasteland and be wasted. Or we can be transformed. Dare I say resurrected? There is still an option left open to us... We can have faith in faith. Faith in faith accepts the limits of our faith and the conditions it exists in that for all intents and purposes make us little more then clinically deranged maniacs, and it transmutes it. It turns it in on itself and embraces the condition of man and the wasteland that faith exists in to create a paradise in itself. Faith in faith only requires for itself the possibility that faith can produce a meaningful life. That given the two choices living in the wasteland or living as a machine the former is still always the better. Faith in faith is driven not by the positive attributes of what it offers, but by the negative reality of what should happen should it fail.
Thus, faith is affirmed by the reality of a meaningless life, and the faith in faith is affirmed should our faith fail us. The only positive assertion we have is our experience of the world. Does our experience affirm for us that we ought to have meaning in life? I posit that it does. And there is one word I will say that affirms this is the case...
Courage.
For man this thrust is courage. It is not good enough that we simply and passively burst out into existence. Our sentience exists as well, and this continual development and process requires a participation on our behalf. We have to will it. We have to want it. We have to have the courage to be. Being man, as man, requires courage. I dare say that this courage requires a source a ground, and that ground is faith. Faith and courage become a formidable pair and when combined inside an honest heart they become a synthesis for a New Being. At least that is what Paul Tillich believed, and it is an idea that resonates of Gospel power.
The modern believer must face the wasteland. And I believe that this wasteland is an invitation for a pilgrimage. A pilgrimage that the modern believer must venture on and at all costs regardless of the risk complete either at the slow decay of his faith, or the resurrection of it.