Faith, Hope, and the Truth about Knowing.

It seems to me that when it comes to matters of ultimate importance, like the existence of God and the nature of life after death, we are all, at best, agnostic. 

I mean that in the most literal sense of the word, which means “not knowing”.

We simply don’t know. And how could we? 

I understand that many people will claim, with the utmost sincerity and certainty, that they do know, offering heartfelt descriptions of their personal experiences and thoughtful explanations of their deepest convictions, but they don’t really know. They believe.

They believe God exists (or doesn’t) and that life after death is experienced a certain way (or isn’t), but neither their sincere belief nor their emphatic certainty proves that any of these things are true. 

There can be no way of knowing for sure, beyond doubt, that any supernatural reality exists (or doesn’t). 

We can argue a case from our preferred set of scriptures, use our reason, formulate theoretical justifications, make philosophical arguments, and claim personal experience, but none of these constitutes proof. They are all, at best, evidence, mainly of the subjective kind, and are in no way conclusive or irrefutable. 

Even the claim that divine revelation (like scripture) is a valid and authoritative epistemological source is just that—a claim that serves as a necessary justification for a very subjective experiential form of knowledge that is better described as “believing” rather than “knowing”. 

Not only is the supposed revelation itself subjective (“I believe God told me to say or write this…” or “I believe the Bible is the inspired Word of God”), but so are the many interpretations that the revelation inevitably produces. 

It’s precisely this fact that gives rise to the plethora of wildly conflicting and sometimes ridiculous (although sincerely held) beliefs about all sorts of things, including who God is, what God requires, how God works, whether God exists at all, and the nature of metaphysical reality in general. 

The truth is, it’s impossible to say whether there are angels and demons, disembodied spirits, and immaterial souls. Does heaven exist? Who knows? Is hell a real place? We can’t say for sure. Does consciousness exist beyond the body and the brain? Maybe. It just isn’t possible to know on this side of the grave, and we may not even know on the other. 

So, what does this all mean for the Christian faith?

Can one be agnostic about God and still be a Christian?

Or are faith and theological agnosticism mutually exclusive?

It may appear so at face value, and some would argue that the two are irreconcilable, but I think it depends on how you understand faith and the role of belief in relation to faith.

Most people define faith as belief and belief as the mental conviction that a proposition is true, i.e., it concords with reality. A justified true belief is one where the proposition is not only held to be true but is actually true and supported by a preponderance of evidence or, ideally, proof.

However, we are sometimes guilty of oversimplifying the notion of belief.

For instance, we reduce belief to an unhelpful dualism: You either believe or you don’t. Unfortunately, belief is not quite that straightforward.

Our beliefs can be weak or strong, depending on the level of evidence we have to support them.

Beliefs can also be active (influencing behaviour) or passive (sincerely held but in no way influencing how we behave).

Our beliefs can (and do) change over time as we are exposed to new evidence.

Most beliefs depend on a complex network of related or contingent beliefs, which means I can’t believe one thing without believing another. For example, believing that King Charles is the King of England assumes a belief in the concepts of monarchy and nationhood.

The sources of our beliefs are varied, too. Most people assume that their beliefs are grounded in reason or based on evidence, but this isn’t always the case. Many of our beliefs are socially constructed through the relationships we have. We tend to believe people we trust (whether trustworthy or not).

Beliefs are sometimes fuelled by our perceptions (the way we see or experience the world) and sometimes by our desires (the way we wish the world could be).

While the notion of belief generally refers to that which we sincerely hold to be true, it could also be extended to include all the self-serving ideas we publicly profess for personal and social benefit, even though we don’t really think they are true. Many people will doubt or disbelieve things privately but acknowledge them publicly if it means fitting in. Public beliefs have social benefits.

In addition, not everyone is concerned with the nature or origin of their beliefs. Many people are happy not to think too deeply about what they believe or why they believe it. Simple, naive beliefs can still be sincere beliefs.

So, I think you get my point. Belief is a bit more complex than we may first assume.

Perhaps the most important aspect of belief, however, is that we don’t choose our beliefs. Objective external evidence and the subjective internal perception of our experiences and relationships impose our beliefs on us.

Our beliefs are involuntary responses to outside stimuli. We are exposed to evidence that inclines us toward belief or unbelief, that makes a claim seem more or less likely, that persuades or dissuades us, and as a result, we find ourselves believing a certain way, either accepting, rejecting, or withholding judgment.

While we can choose to pretend to believe something is true or act as though it is true, we can’t choose to believe it is true.

So, what does this mean for faith?

Is being certain about the truth of what we profess to believe an essential element of the Christian faith?

One might assume so, and if you were raised in a particular Christian tradition, you may have been told so, but I don’t reckon it is. I think there is more to faith than mere belief, especially if your only definition of belief is intellectual assent to propositional ideas about God.

The apostle James makes this point in chapter two of his epistle:

“You say you have faith, for you believe that there is one God. Good for you! Even the demons believe this, and they tremble in terror. How foolish! Can’t you see that faith without good deeds is useless?” – James 2:19-20

Sincere belief may strengthen faith, but faith has to be more than accepting the truth of propositional statements about God’s existence and nature.

Also, if the sincerity, consistency, and accuracy of our beliefs about God determine the level and quality of our faith, we are all in serious trouble!

People often say, “All you have to do is believe!” and everything God has for you can be yours (from eternal salvation to miraculous healing), but what if you can’t believe, no matter how hard you try or how much you want to? What if you can’t say your belief is strong, certain, confident, and consistent? What if you have genuine questions and real doubts?

If not knowing something for certain about God undermines your ability to believe it, does that disqualify you from a life of faith? Or worse, from eternal salvation?

As long as faith is defined as certainty, sincerity, and accuracy in our beliefs about God, then faith and theological agnosticism are irreconcilable. However, if faith can be understood as something other than certitude or sincere belief, then doubt and uncertainty are perfectly acceptable, and don’t disqualify one from the life of faith. 

I would argue that faith, in the biblical sense, is not the absence of doubt or the removal of uncertainty. Faith is not even a deeply held set of beliefs. 

Faith, as presented in the scriptures, is more accurately understood as an active trust-based loyalty to God (covenantal faithfulness), evidenced by one’s behaviour. Biblical faith is not adherence to an intellectual package of correct beliefs. It is principally relational, not intellectual.

There is an important distinction to make here between “belief that” (a conviction about the truth of a propositional statement) and “belief in” (a conviction about a person’s trustworthiness, capacity, and credibility).

Biblical faith is the result of “belief in” (actively trusting the person of Jesus) rather than “belief that” (accepting the exceptionally long and often convoluted list of propositional statements about who God is, what God does, and what God requires). I understand that the two are not mutually exclusive – you are more likely to believe in God if you believe that God exists. However, a strong and sincere belief that God exists is not necessarily a prerequisite for a deep commitment to faith.

I have spent a lot of time contemplating this element of “belief” and whether it is as foundational to the Christian faith as we have assumed, especially the version of belief defined only as intellectual assent to propositional ideas about God (i.e., “belief that“). I have concluded that it isn’t, primarily because of the complex, changing, and uncertain nature of our beliefs described above.

Louis Pojman draws a helpful distinction between “belief” and “acceptance” and notes how each can potentially lead to “faith”.

“Belief”, he says, may be thought of as involuntary assenting of the mind, an intellectual agreement to the truth of a proposition, or a sincere conviction that something is real.

“Acceptance” may be defined as the choice to include a proposition in the set of propositions you are willing to act on in specific contexts.

For instance, a juror may sincerely believe that the accused is guilty but choose not to find him guilty because the high standards of evidence-based conviction have been violated in some way. Or, in science, I may not believe that the hypothesis I am testing is true, but still include it in the experiment to rule it out empirically.

“Faith”, which can come from either belief or acceptance, can be understood as a deep commitment, a lived set of values and priorities, like those reflected in a marriage covenant. In that sense, faith is voluntarily active.

Of course, ideally, one’s faith would be supported by sincere and firm belief, but sincere and firm belief is not always forthcoming.

So, in light of all of the above, I want to suggest that, in the absence of sincere belief, faith can be legitimately understood as a humble, hopeful longing or expectation, a sincerely held desire for something to be so that leads to an acceptance of the implications and required actions of that hope.  

I think it’s significant that faith is described in the New Testament as “being sure of what we hope for” (Hebrews 11:1) rather than “certain of what we know.”

If faith is “being sure of what we hope for,” then we can hope for all the best things possible and be sure of the sincerity of our desire that these things turn out to be true. 

The truth is that I’m not always sure about what I believe (its truth and accuracy), but I am certain of what I hope for. 

I certainly hope God exists and is lovelier than we have ever imagined. 

I hope that if there is life after death, it’s far better than anything we have dreamed of, and I hope those who suffered the most in this life will be rewarded the most in the next. 

I hope that if Jesus rose from the dead (and while there’s no proof that he did, there is compelling evidence), it means this life is not the whole story. 

I hope that if there is a New Creation filled with God’s goodness, presided over by Jesus as King, we will all live in the light of its glory and enjoy its beauty.

In the meantime, I hope more people enjoy true love, deep joy, and abiding peace in this often wonderful, sometimes awful, confounding experience we share called life. 

I hope that kindness triumphs over cruelty and that compassion and care shape our humanity. 

I hope that building a better world for all people and the extraordinary non-human creatures we share this planet with becomes our highest goal. 

I hope we find ways to build communities that are knit together by cooperation and are not torn apart by competition. 

I hope more of us feel free to be honest about who we truly are without fear and regret. 

I hope for many things.

I know you do, too. 

So, where do we go from here? What does all this mean for how we live?

Well, if faith can be understood as a hopeful, humble desire for the best of what we believe (or wish we could believe) to be true, then to be a person of faith would be to live your life in such a way that reflects the sincerity of the hope you hold on to.

I may not be able to choose what I believe, but I can choose to act on a proposition or an assumption (Pojman’s acceptance), even if I can’t prove it to be true, provided that I sincerely believe in its possibility.

I can choose to follow Jesus because I sincerely hope everything I’m told about Him is true, even if I can’t empirically verify it.

I can continue examining the evidence, following the clues, exploring the mystery, and remaining open to the possibility.

I can embrace the embodied human process of “coming to know” through prayer, worship, fellowship, study, and service without needing to “fully know”.

I can trust that if there is a loving Creator of the universe, such a being would not expect anything more from us than humility and honesty in our approach to seeking and understanding them (I honestly think that sincere doubt would be of greater value to God than insincere faith).

What I can’t do is say that I know for sure that any of it is true, at least not without compromising my intellectual and emotional integrity.

While I understand that some might find this way of thinking unsettling, this approach to life and faith might encourage greater honesty, humility, and curiosity. These seem to me to be more “godly” virtues than the arrogance, self-righteousness, and prejudice that fundamentalist faith perspectives, with their rigid commitment to dogmatic doctrinal certainty, tend to produce.

Some theologians would want to negate what I am saying here by arguing that faith is indeed a confident, certain, and accurate belief in propositional truths about God (their particular beliefs, no doubt) but that this kind of faith is a “gift” that can only be received from God. If you are chosen for this gift, lucky you. If not, too bad. Needless to say, I find that idea one of the more ludicrous we have come up with in the last two thousand years. Then again, they may be right. Who knows!

I recognise that not everyone will be able to accept what I’m saying here, and some might even find these ideas “dangerous” or downright heretical. That’s fine. I’m not out to persuade anyone.

However, I suspect that rethinking faith and its relationship to belief, reframing it as a hopeful expectation of truth that leads to loving, curious, hopeful living (rather than the certain knowledge of the truth) will resonate deeply with others and might even persuade them not to give up on their faith.

Either way, I hope these thoughts encourage you to think more deeply about your faith.

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“Hope necessarily implies a patient but confident wait for future developments. This model of knowing teaches us what we already knew by experience: truth takes time, but truth is worth pursuing, and truth is worth the wait. Just because we don’t get it now, or don’t see it all now, no longer requires us to concede that we do not know, that we are not involved in an act of knowing. Knowing is a longing, a leaning into the world, with a patient but confident expectation of reward. We already know in our lives what it is to rejoice in the prospects of something not yet fully known. Now we have learned to consider this a legitimate part of the epistemic act. We rejoice in the hope of truth. This buys us the freedom and the right to wait. But well-placed hope does not disappoint us. It is not certainty, but it is perhaps the more delicious for its anticipation. We rejoice in the prospect of knowing. This is an epistemic act in process.” – Esther Lightcap Meek (Longing to Know: The Philosophy of Knowledge for Ordinary People). 

“Faith is not about striving for certainty. It’s about striving to remain faithful in the midst of uncertainty. We exercise this faith by imaginatively embracing God’s promises as a substantial reality (hypostasis) that, in turn, creates a conviction (elegchos) that it will be so, which motivates us to act in ways that we hope will bring what we imaginatively envision into reality.” – Greg Boyd (The Benefit of the Doubt).

“Outside of the hypothesis which would claim that belief is somehow necessary for genuine commitment or trust (which I have been arguing against), it is hard to see what it is precisely about the concept of belief that makes it so vitally important that God would structure the world such that only those who have it could receive salvation. It seems positively arbitrary to me, if not somewhat pointless, for God to base one’s eternal salvation in part on whether one thinks certain propositions to be true or not. What is so valuable about human beings thinking certain propositions to be true that it would be worth sacrificing their eternal salvation over?” – Bryan Smith (Faith Seeking Belief).

“Many prominent Christians have been agnostics. I think, for example, of the great Danish Christian philosopher Søren Kierkegaard or the most prominent theologian of the twentieth century Karl Barth. Neither of them thought that Christian faith could be epistemically justified by rational argument, and so, in that sense, were agnostic. Kierkegaard was a fideist who believed by an arational leap of faith, and Barth was an authoritarian who believed on the basis of the Word of God… Now, in a deeper sense, they were not agnostic in that they both personally knew God. But they were agnostic in the sense [that] they lacked rational epistemic justification for Christian faith… In contrast to some Christian philosophers, I do think that saving faith implies belief. However, I do not think that rational belief must be epistemically justified on the basis of argument. Assensus does not require justification by argument… Evidentialism, or what I call theological rationalism, is the assumption that faith in order to be justified must be grounded by argument. This assumption is widely rejected today. In addition to fideism and authoritarianism, there is also phenomenal conservatism, according to which if something seems to you to be true, then you are justified in believing it unless you have defeaters of that belief, and pragmatic justification, according to which you can have pragmatic reasons that make it rational to believe.” – William Lane Craig (Reasonable Faith).

For those interested in a more robust theological exploration of Theological Agnosticism, see On the Compatibility of Christian Faith and Theological Agnosticism.

See also, Faith, Hope and Doubt (Louis Pojman, 2001).

And Faith Seeking Belief (Bryan Smith, 2017)