Doubting in the Pew: Why Churches Fear Uncertainty

The Need to Embrace and Celebrate Intellectual and Emotional Doubt

Detail from "Appearance of Angel to St. Joseph" (also called "The Song of St. Joseph", c.1640) by Georges de la Tour.

Doubting in the Pew: Why Churches Fear Uncertainty

If you grew up in the church, you probably know the feeling: questions about faith aren’t simply discouraged, they’re often seen as moral failings. In many congregations, doubt is equated with spiritual weakness, ignorance, or even rebellion against God. The prevailing logic runs like this: “If you have doubts, you must not have faith.” But as someone who spends their days thinking about how communities of faith work, I’m convinced this is not just mistaken. It’s spiritually dangerous.

Let’s be honest. From Sunday school onward, we’re taught to treat faith like a fortress: questions are cracks in the wall, not invitations to conversation. Francis, in his research on young evangelicals, notes how participants described their home churches as places where “doubting in matters of faith was frowned upon and doubters were regularly regarded with scorn.” (42) Doubt was not a tool for growth, but a mark of faithlessness.

And here’s the twist: this very posture helps churches preserve their identity. If questions are off-limits, the community’s beliefs remain unchallenged. Doubt isn’t seen as an opportunity for deeper faith, but as evidence of moral or spiritual deficiency.

The Ritual of Certainty is Exhausting

As I wrote about two weeks ago, certainty in church isn’t just an intellectual exercise. It’s a performance, a set of embodied rituals designed to demonstrate belonging. These rituals can be very helpful while easily slipping into problematic areas. What we practice through song and sermon in our services shape us and can help us be emotionally and spiritually healthy. It becomes unhealthy when it becomes monotone, univocal, rigid and mandated. When it’s commanded that you have to tow the line 24/7/365 without room for unique perspectives, it’s hard to remember all the things that you can’t think about and all of the things that you are supposed to fully affirm.

Phillip Francis, in his When Art Disrupts Religion, observes, “Being certain is best understood not as the domain of one faculty—the intellect, say—but as a repertoire of ritualized, embodied practices, undertaken within the constraints and under the disciplinary codes of a social unit which constitutes and validates one’s identity as a person of certainty.” (49) In plain terms: churches don’t just teach beliefs; they teach believers how to act as if those beliefs have no cracks. We talked about how songs use strong words like “know” and avoid weak words like “doubt” and even “think.” There is no room for doubt. Even in liturgical services, people “confess” and “believe.” The theology of the Church is great at making declarative statements and only asking rhetorical questions that everyone is supposed to know the answers to. It is a performance and repetition of certainty.

However, maintaining this type of performance can be demanding. Individuals, including those from fundamentalist backgrounds, have noted that inconsistencies and uncertainties have always existed within their identities (58-59). Although they may present a confident exterior, underlying doubts persist at varying levels of prominence. Francis notes that participants in his research often suppressed these doubts until they consciously acknowledged them. Both maintaining certainty and allowing for questions involve intentional effort and dedication.

Think about our performance of emotions in our church services. Sometimes it is good to perform emotions that you do not feel. We are commanded to mourn with those who mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice. To be able to take on or even mimic other emotions requires an openness to other emotions in the service and not a rigid emotional outlook in worship. Always being emotionally upbeat and performing something between joy and happiness while around or in the church is as exhausting as maintaining certainty.

Recognizing Identity Gaps

We need to talk about what happens when doubt is forced underground. Theologically, identity gaps manifest in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. Francis records that participants “were able to maintain a primary, regnant identity as a person of certainty, while nonetheless remaining cognizant of those momentary flashes” of other, doubting selves. (59) These “cracks, corners, and gaps” don’t disappear. They’re just ignored, covered over, but never truly forgotten. We start to dis-attach from ourselves as we try to distance ourselves from parts of ourselves. That leads us to dis-attach from others as we may worry that our gaps come from the influence of people in our lives.

The consequences? Fragmented bits trickle out as anxiety, sleeplessness, and physical unease. “These fragmented bits of subjectivity would keep them up at night, supplying them with an incomprehensible and unspeakable dis-ease, manifesting in all manner of strange, untraceable and unpredictable bodily ways.” Until doubt is given a place in church life—a space to be acknowledged, spoken, and heard—these symptoms persist. We also start to be dysregulated in our emotions. We no longer know how the right emotions to feel at the right times. We rejoice over death, we feel joy at funerals, we cry at random times, as our emotions are all over the place.

Francis talks about how one of the participants in his research said that “a denial of doubt was at the root of the anxiety that had long gripped him in conversations with others.” (59) The need for certainty had crossed over from evangelism to everyday conversations. They started to feel everything they said in any context had to be correct and line up with their beliefs. Another respondent talked about how there was a “deep-seated anxiety, ambivalence, and embarrassment underlying her apparently confident performance of the evangelist.” (59-60) Those feelings do not just remain in the space of faith but move into all aspects of life.

“After these areas of uncertainty were incorporated into their revised identity—one that allowed beliefs and doubts to exist together—the intensity of discomfort related to these gaps was reduced, and in some instances, ceased entirely.” (60) The process involved individuals actively recognizing and accepting the presence of ambiguity within their personal philosophies. By reframing their identity to welcome both certainty and doubt, they created space for growth and personal development. This shift not only diminished the psychological tension associated with unresolved questions but also fostered resilience, adaptability, and openness to new perspectives. As a result, many found themselves better equipped to engage meaningfully with complex ideas and situations.

Uncertainty Takes Practice—And the Church Needs It

We need to practice uncertainty, not hide it. Uncertainty isn’t the enemy of faith, but an essential part of spiritual growth. Modeling doubt—from the pulpit, in small groups, in adult education—is crucial. Leaders need to show what it looks like to hold convictions and questions together.

When churches allow uncertainty to be expressed, something liberating happens. Those painful manifestations lessen and sometimes disappear. The community becomes a place not just for the performance of faith, but for its honest, ongoing rehearsal. Identity becomes more whole, less divided place where both conviction and doubt have room to breathe.

Francis shares that many of the participants stated that “until they found a public space to acknowledge the doubting aspect of their being, they were very often unable to see the relationship between the physical manifestation of these gaps and the gaps themselves.” (60) Francis states that we need places that allow us to “recognize, name, and explore the questions and doubts that held open these previously unnamable spaces, like placeholders over a void.” (61) Part of being emotionally attuned and able to attach to others and God, the void needs to be at least addressed. Healing can only start when grief and doubt is allowed to be addressed.

Let’s Make Room for Doubt

The church’s task is not to stamp out uncertainty, but to cultivate a climate where questions are welcome. To do so is not to threaten faith, but to deepen it. We need to practice uncertainty—together, publicly, and persistently—so that our sanctuaries become places where no one has to hide the cracks in their soul. That means singing songs, preaching sermons, offering prayers, and overall teaching that doubt is part of life.

How can doubt be accommodated within our perspectives? Psychologist Curt Thompson, referencing John 20, highlights how Jesus demonstrated vulnerability and closeness by permitting Thomas to touch His wounds. Such an act requires considerable trust and intimacy, marking it as an uncommon response. Thompson further notes that Jesus maintained a calm and peaceful presence with Thomas, refraining from shaming or reacting angrily to Thomas' inquiry.

Conversely, Thomas approached Jesus with sincerity and openness, expressing honest questions and a willingness to deepen their relationship. Rather than signifying rejection, Thomas’ doubt should be understood as an expression of his desire for greater intimacy with Christ. That is a posture we should be highlighting in our preaching.

I’ve heard sermons demonizing Thomas. I’ve heard sermons trying to recontextualize Thomas so that he was not actually doubting or questioning. Heck, there’s an old hymn called ‘Why Worry’ that has this line, “Don't be a doubting Thomas\Rest fully on his promise\Why worry worry worry worry when you can pray?” When I looked at sermons for this post, I saw a lot of pastors trying to advocate for certainty while trying to explain away doubt. Pastors need to preach in a way that allows the text to resonate with everyone in the room, affirming that we need to be securely attached to God, which means we are in a place where we can question.

We need to soften the language we use in our songs and prayers. We should be less confident that we know things. There needs to be a careful balance between confessing our beliefs and being overconfident in them. Expressing doubt opens us up to mystery and helps us practice humility.

When certainty feels comforting, ask what doubt might reveal. Let doubt guide you toward clarity thorugh the questions we ask. Doubt is not weakness, rather certainty is. It takes great strength and courage to ask questions, especially if you are in an environment that punishes doubt.

After all, as people of faith, our journey isn’t defined by the absence of doubt, but by the courage to live with it, and even—sometimes—to bless it.