Doubt is a very real part of life. We doubt truth statements
on a daily basis from those made by weather forecasts to those made by
politicians and everything in-between. Your doubt may reach to levels of
existence and metaphysics questioning even the presence of the words of this
blog as you read them (they don’t exist, you are only seeing a conglomeration
of ones and zeros). Doubt is normal and human.
Yet we seem to get excited when doubt occurs in the
religious arena. When talking about faith and God and one’s doubt becomes, for
many, a taboo, a problem that needs to be overcome. For doubt to exist in areas
of one’s faith is portrayed as problematic.
I have now watched my second Ingmar Bergman movie, Winter Light and am getting snobbier and
snobbier by the minute. It was only the binge viewing of the Rambo movies that kept me from
completely removing myself from the hoi
polloi, the common folk and to start living for the sake of the aesthetic
beauty of obscure art. Thanks Rambo, you have saved me again.
Winter Light
wrestles with doubt in the religious context. Tomas, the main character, is a
priest who is wrestling with a profound doubt because of his particular faith
in God. His role as a priest is cobbled by “God’s silence.” The God that Tomas
believes in has been silent and absent. When a married couple looks to Tomas for
help Tomas can only offer dribble. The husband is in despair, he wants to take
his own life and Tomas cannot reach him. He cannot offer any depth, any
direction, or any real help to a man who only sees despair and hopelessness and
hatred in the world. For Tomas, doubt is debilitating.
This is a common approach to doubt in the religious arena. It
comes out of the notion that you must have a strong, robust faith that cannot
be shaken, challenged, or harmed if you are to be a leader. Yet in Tomas’ case
(and for many others) his doubt is necessary for his faith is immature,
adolescent and shallow. Tomas believes in an “echo God” – a god who is a
reflection of himself. Think of Feuerbach’s projection idea of God (that God is
the needs and desires that we project), add a dash of narcissism and you get
this hallow God that Tomas has held to throughout his vocation. Now, years
after his wife’s death, Tomas is hearing only God’s silence because his conception
of the divine and his faith cannot be sustained when faced with the reality of
life. Tomas is at a point where he is forced with a choice: wrestle with his
faith, deepen his convictions and his relationship with God or leave the
priesthood, the church, and embrace disbelief. It is doubt that brings him to
this place.
This is a good thing for Tomas. It is not a fun or easy
thing, but it is good and demonstrates the value that doubt can have with one’s
faith. When faced with the harsh realities of the world a shallow, mean, empty,
immature God will not stand. One’s faith will justifiably be threatened and
doubt will emerge. If one’s faith is shallow then this doubt can become a
corrective, a purge of the weakness. Doubt can be a saving grace depending on
where it may lead.
What you do with your doubt is the important unknown that
makes doubt potentially dangerous.
When doubt forces you to face the frailty and faults of your
faith and when doubt challenges your hopes you can crumble, wither, and walk
away from all things spiritual and religious, or you can face your doubt, take
it seriously and wrestle. You can wrestle with whatever those core tenants of
your faith may be. You can claim a deeper, stronger, healthier faith.
Bergman’s movie ends with Tomas standing before an empty
sanctuary (aside from his mistress and a crippled sexton) and Tomas starting
the service. Tomas starts by saying, “Holy, holy, holy; All the Earth is filled
with your glory.”
There are a number of ways that this ending can be
understood and I am not going to list them. Watch the movie, make your own
decision about this ending. What I see is hope. I see Tomas crying and clinging
to one of those basic tenants of his faith and demanding that it be seen
through. Tomas wants to hear God. Tomas wants to find a God that is not just an
empty echo of himself and so he falls into the performative act that goes deep
into his tradition and allows the power of that act to help him in his doubt.
Returning to or continuing those actions, the ritual, the
prayer that connects with a tradition, that goes beyond your individual,
personal faith is one way to wrestle with a good doubt and may bring you closer
to God. Instead of going deeper into yourself, lean on the writings of the
ancients, the prayers that have been passed on for centuries, and the
scriptures that have been informing and guiding people in their faith for
generations. Lean on those resources, say the words, ingest the wisdom, and
listen for God. Let your doubt purge the weakness of your faith and let the
actions guide your belief.
Here is the quick summary of what I am trying to say:
Doubt = good (sorta)
Worship = good (kinda)
Bergman’s Winter Light
= good
Watch the movie, doubt your faith, worship with the
multitudes that have gone before us, mix, stir, and ingest.
2 comments:
Thanks for this...
Makes me want to watch Winter Light. Perhaps when the Dracula series is over...
Doubt is an important aspect of faith. "The opposite of faith is certainty."
Dealing with suicide as a minister is difficult indeed.
Bergman could be portraying the failure of doubt filled ministry with the two church members- or he could be saying "where two or more are gathered..."
Vern, thanks for the comment. Winter Light is a good move, thick and demanding, and good. One of the things I really like about the film is the open-ended nature of the ending (and many other aspects of the film). We are left having to make decisions about what is happening and that is a good thing.
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