Akron
One of the more erroneous notions that many persons cherish is the belief that doubt is a negative virtue, if it is a virtue at all. Radio voices, sometimes ominously sepulchral, sometimes merely irritatingly “folksy”, have a habit of ringing the changes on the accepted idea that the doubter lives in anxiety and dies in uncertainty. If only the doubter would have “faith”, we are exhorted, not only would his future be assured, but also his digestion would improve because he would have the “power of positive thinking”, and “every-day in every way he would be getting better and better,”
In my opinion much of this “buck-up-old-boy” philosophy is either nonsense, or is the elevation of the trivial, even though it may be complacently called “faith”. Now while I do not deny that there is at least some value in positive suggestions, in this sermon I want to attempt to state the case for the proposition that doubt can function in a manner which will lead us to a more healthy life and a more satisfactory religion.
In Troilus and Cressida (Act II, scene 3), Shakespeare has Hector say, “
The wound of peace is surety,
Surety secure; but modest doubt is call’d
The beacon of the wise, the tent that
searches to the bottom of the worst.”
As he did so many times, Shakespeare demonstrated amazing insight into human character and the human condition when he called modest doubt the “beacon of the wise.”
As one travels the coastlines of our country, the winking beacons of the lighthouses are picturesque scenery to the land-traveler. To the men who go down to the sea in ships, these beacons are a necessity. In ancient days these beacons were signal fires. As men began to know more about optics and mechanics, great reflectors thrust light out to the deep waters so that mariners might be safely guided. We now live in an age where the beacons are carried by radio on invisible sound waves. Beacons, old and new, serve at least two important functions: First, a warning is given of ledges, shoals, and reefs. Second, the beacons and buoys flash the direction of where we should go – the deep waters which are the channel to the harbor and safety of the pier.
Doubt is a personal beacon. Doubt can indicate where not to go. Doubt also guides us in safer channels of living. It should be noted that “doubt” must be distinguished from a barren skepticism. There is a hackneyed, and quite unfair definition of a religious liberal which goes something like this: “a liberal is one who strongly disbelieves anything that anyone else believes, and has a strong, sustaining faith in he does not know quite what.” While Somerset Maugham may have thought this an accurate description of a liberal, it is the attitude of the dogmatic skeptic, rather than the questioning liberal, who, while entertaining doubts, at the same time wants to grow in understanding and to develop more profound and meaningful values.
The doubt that is “the beacon of the wise,” is the doubt that does not reject beliefs with hostility, merely because someone else believes them. The “beacon of the wise” is the “modest doubt” that clarifies understanding by questioning beliefs that have become dogmas in the mind of the majority. Doubt that seeks truth and understanding will cherish something of the philosophy of Thomas Jefferson (quoted by Phillips Russell, Jefferson, Champion of the Free Mind, p. 145):
“Question with boldness even the existence of a god; because if there be one, he must approve of the homage of reason rather than that of blindfolded fear... If it ends in a belief that there is no god, you will find incitements to virtue in the comfort and pleasantness you feel in its exercise and the love of others which it will procure you. If you find reason to believe there is a god, a consciousness that you are acting under his eye and that he approves you, will be a vast additional incitement.”
Tennyson, you will recall, said that “there is more faith in honest doubt than in half the creeds.” Robert Ingersoll commented, in typical fashion something to the effect that there is more doubt in honest faith than is ever admitted in the ponderous certainties of professional theologians.
Victor Hugo, in Les Miserables, with literary genius, illustrates the positive power of doubt in two conversations with non-believers carried on by the good Bishop Myriel. First, he meets the Count. The Count scorned the God ideas, immortality and religious-ethical beliefs. To him these ideas were below the level of the philosopher-rulers of his great stature. He was quite willing that the great mass of persons should believe in God AND be deprived of the satisfaction of enough food, decent housing and cultural advantages. Religious beliefs would take the place of the bread and butter their stomachs craved. The kindly Bishop dismissed the arrogance of the Count with gentle, but penetrating irony. The Count personified the quality of snobbish shallowness which is quite deadly to the recovery of religious significance. Superciliousness is not only arrogant, but ignorant; not only destructive, but non-productive.
In contrast is the conversation between the good Bishop and the dying, agnostic revolutionist. The old radical had seen his dreams come true, only to see the bright hopes clouded over when the Reign of Terror prostituted the ideals of liberty, equality and fraternity which had sparked the capture of the Bastille and the oath of the Tennis Courts. As his life ebbed away, the old agnostic could look back on an old age which had been punctuated by poverty, and worse yet, he had been rejected by his fellow-men for whom he had given his mind and strength. In spite of such blows, his reverence for life was so profound that, even though the agnostic revolutionist cannot honestly use the name of God, the good Bishop goes to his knees, asking for the blessing of one the church called “atheist.”
Why? There is a spirit of reverence in “modest doubt” which can be considerably more religious than enthusiastic recitation of creeds of ages long-gone.
The story told by Hugo is one of those universal stories, true in any age, warning us of the principal peril that any religion must encounter. There is always the danger that religion will be popular simply because it fails to penetrate the darkened crust of our selfishness. Religion always faces the horrible hazard of being nothing but a protective facade, disguising an inner corrosion; -- hiding the decay of things which are most vital.
Thus, it follows that if doubt is a vital religious process, it cannot function healthfully in a vacuum void of values. If doubt is to be a light of wisdom for us, we must have a place to stand. Otherwise we are like the men described by Henry Drummond, the great preacher of another day. He told of being on an ocean liner halted in the middle of the Atlantic because of failure of engines. Dr. Drummond said he became suddenly aware that if all the 500 able-bodied men on the ship clustered around the smokestack and pushed with all their might, -- the ship would get exactly nowhere – would still be controlled by the winds and currents.
We, too, need a place to stand. Otherwise we will be battered and destroyed by all the cross-currents and contradictions.
There is a foundation for modest doubt. Here are parts of such a foundation. (You might add other components.):
First, question, - even challenge, - any religious institution that separates morality from religious consciousness. The institution of religion is justified if it helps people to live more effectively; if it helps persons to achieve individual and group needs for love, freedom, and belonging to a great cause. When an institution frustrates those basic needs of persons, then modest, but courageous doubt must assert the priority of human values over decayed institutions.
Martin Luther’s “A Mighty Fortress is our God,” has become one of the grand expressions of historic Protestantism. Yet Luther developed his strong and great faith by beginning with sincere doubt. When the ecclesiastical and political nobles were concluding the proceedings at Wurms, they witnessed Luther take his ultimate position on the basis or religious morality. “I can say nothing against conscience, God helping me, I can do no other. Here I stand.”
Furthermore, this stand on morality, rather than institutionalism, must be a person-centered morality. This is a value judgment. The religious institution is but a framework in which people attempt to meet the needs they label religious. This framework is not an end in itself. When the church (institution) becomes more important than the human needs which led to the birth of the church, then it is time to look with doubt on the structure and purpose of this institution. Henry Clay Lindgren cogently expresses this point of view in his recent book, Meaning, Antidote to Anxiety. He remarks, “organized religion can help mankind by providing the place and the opportunity for self-discovery and self-understanding.”
Jesus was a doubter. He doubted the value of institutions when they neglected a person centered morality. There is tremendous impact in Chapter 5 of Matthew. One could describe this chapter as a “person-centered approach to doubt.”
Jesus says, “You are the light of the world.” “You are the salt of the earth.” Starting with these essentials he goes on to list constructive, modest doubts, which can still be “beacons to the wise.” “You have heard it said by men of old, You shall not kill, whoever kills shall be liable to the judgment, But I say to you everyone who is angry with his brother shall be liable to the judgment. You have heard it said ... but I say unto you.” He goes on in the instances of adultery, divorce, false witness, revenge and hate to doubt that the old attitudes are still valid. Why? Because they are not person-centered.
Thus the foundation includes not only religious morality, but also morality that centers in on the needs of persons.
Furthermore, it can be suggested that the “beacon of the wise,” will include the attitude of readiness to face facts and make needed changes. Arnold Toynbee, the historian, said, “But how, I ask you, can one lift up one’s heart and apply one’s mind unless one does one’s best to find out the relevant facts and look them in the face.”
There is a positive value in change which the history of any science, any government, any religion, will supply ample testimony.
The distinguished English actress, Dame Sybil Thorndike is now appearing on Broadway. Recently she was interviewed by a writer for a religious magazine. She was asked if there was any conflict between religious faith and a theatrical career. She answered, “No, there’s no conflict. My acting is really, a confession. I’m a high Anglican, you know, but I quit going to confession. My priest agreed. I said to him, ‘It’s my confession when I’m acting. You have to search in every character for the part of yourself that’s in it. There but for the grace of god ... I might have done that ... You say you don’t like the miracle in the play, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is to be searching. YOU’RE NOT SURE, THEN YOU’RE ALIVE. That’s a negative way of putting it, but its right for our time.’”
The worth of persons and the positive value of change are the foundation of modest doubt. Our religious education series is known as the “Beacon” series. It is well-named in the sense we have been describing. It encourages us to look at people and their religions. The Beacon series asks us to consider ourselves, and our relation to the past and the present. It asks us to be ALIVE by searching.
We must maintain a vigilant attitude of wholesome values, we must search for unfolding truths in intellectual honesty, rather than prudent defensiveness. Changes we must accept, as we accept the changes of wisdom and stature in our individual minds and bodies. Browning said it well:
“Nothing can be as it has been before;
Better, so call it, only not the same.
To draw one beauty into our heart’s core;
And keep it changeless: such our claim;
So answered, never more.
“Simple? Why, this is the woe of the world:
Time, to whose rise and fall we live and die
Rise with it then. Rejoice that man is hurled
From change to change unceasingly.
His soul’s wings never furled.”
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