I have come to understand that one of the hardest things for me to lay upon the altar is my human certainty. Human certainty comprises what I can see with my eyes, understand with my mind, and feel with my emotions. When you think about it, that entails a big part of life. I have always been the kind of guy who likes to analyze my decisions and calculate the most likely results of my actions. This gives me a sense of certainty. After all, most of us desire a degree of certainty and predictability in our lives.
Isn't this the reason people don't save for retirement, always eat healthy foods, or spend hours exercising? Saving for the future is hard when there is something I want right now. I don't even know if I will live to retire, but I am certain I want that giant screen television right now. I may die tomorrow, so I am certain I would not want my last meal on earth to be lettuce. Most of my friends who used to jog the most faithfully, are now dead, so I am reasonably certain I would rather recline under the air conditioner than sprint around the block.
Please do not misunderstand. Saving, healthy diets, and exercise, in most cases, are good for you. However, in your own personal life, you cannot be 100% certain they will make any difference at all. So, it is quite natural that our willpower flees when the outcome is uncertain. That's why scary movies always take you to a dark room or down a deserted, foggy street. The uncertainty of what is in that room or down that street sets the mood for fear and anxiety.
Most of us strive for human certainty, clarity, routine, and guaranteed results. We will even let great opportunities pass us by because they cannot promise us an absolute outcome. We either take the safe option or we just sit on the sidelines in a state of indecision, but at least we are in our comfort zone. We can become close-minded to the truth because our minds struggle to understand it. We miss the beauty in the garden because we are afraid to leave our prison. After all, we haven't really seen the garden; we have only been told of its beauty. So, our mind paints a picture of uncertainty that keeps us locked inside.
For example, it is far easier to see that spending an evening doing something the flesh enjoys might be far more enticing than going to church. That is why many churches are curtailing their services. They can call it what they want or justify it in a dozen ways, but it still boils down to the fact that they are doing what I sometimes would like to do: something other than venturing off to church. Obviously, if they were certain they would be blessed, inspired, and rewarded, nothing could keep them away and they would never allow the church to close its doors. Human certainty says that spending your money on something other than a tithe might be more rewarding. Human certainty says that witnessing to a friend may not turn out the way you anticipate, so it may be best to just let it be. Isn't the perceived uncertainty of an answer the reason we don't pray as we should?
Human certainty is in such demand that we spend a lot of time and energy trying to create it. We also like to project our certainty so others can see and admire our self-assurance. We avoid uncertainty whenever possible because we do not like the way it makes us feel. Now, if I seem to be projecting myself as an expert, perhaps I am. You see, I have struggled with craving certainty for much of my life. Especially before I became a Christian, I had this inner desire to be in control. I liked knowing and following the rules and then projecting a certain outcome. My "need to be sure" became the priority in almost every decision I made. It determined my career choices. I carefully researched to find that one particular job that pretty much guaranteed what I was looking for: quick promotion, job security, good money, and a degree of independence.
Socially, I chose relationships that were most aligned with my long-term goals. Even the decision to have children was rooted in my desire to ensure they would not disrupt my plans for the future, which, by this stage in my carnal life, were pretty much set in stone. Becoming a Christian changed all that, but the old man inside me still craves the safety of certainty. Perhaps it has been that way for all of us, even from the beginning.
Adam and Eve were placed in the garden and told they could eat freely of all the trees except the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Why was that a command? I can only assume they had no idea. They were certain of the command but uncertain of the reason behind it, because God did not reveal it to them. That is when the devil comes along and gives them his own version of God's reasoning. He tells Eve that God is withholding great knowledge from them. This was a knowledge so powerful that, once gained, it would enable them to know everything. In other words, they would have certainty. Perhaps we could argue that the real temptation that Satan presented to Eve was the temptation of attaining certainty. Is it possible that this same issue is the one that Lucifer struggled with when he initially rebelled against God? The desire for certainty is one of the strongest of emotions.
Do you know how I became a Christian? I was already under deep conviction of the Holy Spirit, but one day, this slave of certainty opened the door to allow some "maybe" into my life. Maybe suggests that even though we may not totally understand something, it doesn't mean that it won't work out for our benefit. Perhaps our life is good, but maybe, just maybe, it could be better. When I believe I have life running in safety mode, is there a chance it isn't safe after all? When I allowed a little maybe to slip in, I began to realize that uncertainty is often a part of faith. Faith is not the absence of doubt. Faith is a choice to trust even when you have doubts. We wrongly associate uncertainty with unbelief. I think, that as we live in this tabernacle of human flesh, doubt will often be a normal part of the Christian life. That does not mean it is a desirable quality to seek; it simply acknowledges that there is a vast difference between unbelief and a deep desire to believe, even with a weak and trembling faith. Our gracious Lord does not consider sincere uncertainty to be a deliberate rebellion.
I understand that without faith it is impossible to please Him, but does that faith have to be perfect? Will not just a smoldering ember of genuine faith be honored?
"A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench." Isaiah 42:3
Wasn't this the testimony of the man in Mark 9:24, who expressed both faith and uncertainty in the same sentence? "Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief."
Did you get that? Even as he expressed his doubt, he took it to the Lord, knowing that He would understand. Ironically, by acknowledging his doubt, he was expressing his faith; a faith that Jesus honored.
God's grace has never depended on our perfect faith. In fact, if we had to earn our faith through complete certainty, it would no longer be a gift of absolute grace. He only asks that we turn to Him, even if some uncertainties remain as we do. Faith, by its very definition defies human understanding. It is a choice to believe what may not make any sense to the natural mind.
Again, isn't that why death is sometimes feared by even the strongest of Christians? Even if we have faith, death still gives us a lot of unanswered questions. Could uncertainty be why we don't use our spiritual gifts? Is it because we wonder if our service will really make a difference? Will we end up looking foolish and overextending ourselves? We love the Lord, but the desire for certainty holds us back.
In Luke Chapter 1, the evangelist addresses his letter to a Christian named Theophilus. Notice what he says in Luke 1:1-4:
"Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to set forth in order a declaration of those things which are most surely believed among us, Even as they delivered them unto us, which from the beginning were eyewitnesses, and ministers of the word; It seemed good to me also, having had perfect understanding of all things from the very first, to write unto thee in order, most excellent Theophilus, That thou mightest know the certainty of those things, wherein thou hast been instructed." Luke 1:1-4
Luke wanted Theophilus to know certainty! It would appear from his introduction that Luke wrote this entire letter only for the benefit of Theophilus. He apparently had no idea how far his writing would reach. Just consider the effort he went through to bring certainty to just one soul.
Perhaps, just like I was fifty years ago, you are strongly considering accepting Christ as your Savior, but the need for absolute certainty is holding you back. In that regard, certainty will come.
"These things have I written unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God; that ye may know that ye have eternal life, and that ye may believe on the name of the Son of God." I John 5:13
However, before that happens, you will likely have to allow a little "maybe" into your life: "Maybe what the preacher says is true. Maybe Christ did really die for my sins and rise on the third day. Maybe I can be saved today by simply calling upon the Lord."
Like the man in Luke, you can say: "Lord, I believe, but I have some uncertainty. Holy Spirit, show me the truth, and reveal to me the answer." I am confident — I am certain — that He will, because that is what He did for me. Suddenly, I was certain. Now, I have since been uncertain about many things in life, but regarding my salvation, God gave me a certainty that day that has not wavered for fifty years. Your uncertainty may be strong, your maybes may be many, and your mustard seed faith may be weak, small, insufficient, and almost nonexistent. But God requires nothing more.
Bring Christ your doubts, uncertainties, and maybes. Those things coupled with a small grain of faith is something Christ can work with. Of this, I am certain.
