I am convinced that one of the most frequently overlooked distinctions in our various theological frameworks is the distinction between living out of a sense of conviction and living out of a spirit of certainty. This distinction, I think, impacts everything from our worldview to our evangelism, everything from our ecclesiastical identity to our interaction with the world.
Consider this quote from Brad Cecil (who is connected to an emerging ministry in Texas called AXXESS):
We are very aware that we have a faith construct that works for our community. That means we have a community of strongly held historic Christian beliefs. But we are always aware that we could be wrong. We are not foundational empiricists who feel that we have reduced our faith to the point of irreducible certainty. (This quote appears in the book EMERGING CHURCHES, written by Eddie Gibbs and Ryan Bolger.)
As children of the Enlightenment ethos, we have often been conditioned to believe that certainty (defined as a condition undergirded by empirical and irrefutable propositions), is the preferred status of every faith journey. The end result of such an emphasis, of course, is what I have come to call an idolatry of certainty. It is an idolatry that sets up an artificial theological construct in which anything less than certainty is questioned.
My strong feeling, however, is that certainty is not all that it’s cracked up to be. I am not at all convinced that a condition of certainty, insofar as certainty implies an iron-clad and unbendable worldview, is the kind of condition that the Lord Jesus came into this world to make possible. Historically, we have manipulated and exploited the things about which we feel certain. There is a long and bloody history to be told about the way in which the world has treated people who did not embrace the “certainty” of Roman paganism; or the “certainty” of the Aryan supremacy of the Nazi regime; or even the “certainty” of an American brand of capitalism. To put it as simply as I can put it, a condition of certainty tends to spawn a dangerous and pathological desire to protect, defend, and manipulate the thing about which we are certain, since we cannot afford to consider the possibility that we might be wrong.
Much more appealing to me is the idea of living out of a sense of conviction. Certainty is based upon an empirical worldview. Conviction is based upon an investment of faith and trust. Certainty tends to breed arrogance and hierarchy. Conviction tends to be held with humility, because a person of conviction never loses touch with the possibility that he or she might be wrong. Certainty often hinders community, since it treats as “enemies” those who live outside of the certainty. Conviction allows for relationship and dialogue, even with those who do not share the conviction.
Come to think of it, the most important and transformational things in my life are based, not upon certainty, but upon conviction. When I think about my relationship with my wife, for example, there is no way that I can be CERTAIN that she loves me. I cannot prove her love, in other words, in a way that is empirical and irrefutable. I could tell you that we have been married for 15 years, but that doesn’t PROVE her love. (She might just be someone who likes the security of being in a relationship.) I could tell you that she speaks often of her love for me, but that doesn’t PROVE her love either. (She might just be perpetuating the illusion of romance with her vocabulary.) And yet, I am convinced that my marriage is the greatest blessing of my life. I believe this, not because of certainty, but because of my conviction that Tara loves me and that I love her right back.
Love. Trust. Hope. Mercy. Faith. None of these can be proven with certainty. When held with conviction, however, they become the most significant and transformational components of the human pilgrimage.
My most deeply held convictions are that Jesus is risen, that Jesus is Lord, and that Jesus is the Savior of the world. I’d like to think that I would rather die than surrender these convictions. That is how deeply I hold them. In terms of Christian apologetics, I am convinced that there are several good reasons to believe these things about Jesus. It is not a blind and uninformed faith, in other words. But the Lordship of Jesus cannot be bottled up in a container so crass as certainty. Rather, it is held with a conviction that is as humble as it is passionate.
Help me on this issue, friends. Am I indeed discerning a legitimate distinction here? Or am I simply up to semantics again?
I agree with your basic premise. One of the “problems” of the “emerging Church” is a certain relativism, or a willingness to engage in relativistic worldview…my truth may not be your truth but both truths could be equally true, etc. This seems to me more emblematic of Protestant liberal thought than most streams of evangelical thinking, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing (perhaps it could be labels themselves which need tossed!).
At any rate, I am comfortable with ambiguity, and actually believe it is an important part of Christian faith and theology, much to the chagrin of some of my more fundamentalist-influenced sisters and brothers.
My concern arises with the propsect that all truth becomes relativized, and we as the Church deny any absolutes…moral, ethical or theological. Are there lines we simply cannot cross, in your view?
Eric…I am reminded of former Eagles front man Don Henley who wrote the following in a song called “The heart of the matter.”
He wrote: “The more I know, the less I understand. All things I thought I’d figured out I’m learning again. I’ve been trying to get down to the heart of the matter, but my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter…”
I think I know what is true, but I still don’t have a handle on truth. Sometimes we have to live by the law of being “close enough.” By walking towards the light with out knowing for sure what is there.
As an existentialist, I believe that life is about journeys and not destinations. Truth and certainty are things that we can never really know, but only glimpse. I’m just glad to be along for the ride.
Thanks for the good thinking, Keith and Randy.
Keith…I share your concerns about theological and moral relativism. My hope is that biblical communal convictions are ultimately sturdier in the face of such relativism than is an insistance upon certainty.
And Randy…an existentialist?! How positively Kierkegaardian of you!
My first thoughts upon reading this were based upon science. I often hear those in the scientific community having the greatest struggles with faith and belief. I am in no way certian about this thought, but I think that it is largely due to the lact of “certainty” in faith. Science often talks about certainty and leaves little room for conviction.
I once knew a professor down at Duke who came to faith by trying to “disprove” the existence of God. Only when he failed to disprove it, did he really know that God existed in his mind. Maybe there is a little uncertainty that led to conviction.
Good thought, Eric.
Thanks, Greg.
Remember that Thomas Dolby song from the 1980’s–”She Blinded Me with Science?”
Maybe, just maybe, we can actually be blinded by the pursuit of scientific certainty.