Tilian’s Doubt

Greetings!

You may already know that Tilian the Chipmunk is a family friend. He met Atticus, my third cousin, once removed, many years ago on one of their many adventures. Tilian hails from old England, and when I say old, I mean Anglo-Saxon old. You may be wondering how we came to know someone from Anglo-Saxon England! Come to think of it, you may also be wondering how a wren came to be writing a blog! Well, never fear—more will be revealed in future posts. Suffice to say for now that there are many mysteries in the Creator’s universe, and this happens to be one of them!

Now, back to Tilian!

Tilian’s name, in Old English, means one who strives and is associated with hard labor, which suits him well. Tilian strives to do what is right and good. However, many years ago, in a letter to Atticus, Tilian revealed that he used to seek perfection, not only from himself, but from others as well. This is what he wrote:

Dearest Atticus,

I must share an experience in which our Lord routed me in such a way that I am forever changed. I never knew how far I had wandered!

I wanted the Creator, our Lord, to love and accept me so terribly that I behaved like a poor and desperate thrall trying to earn my freedom from a cruel master. I realized I had even become judgmental and impatient with others, spreading discouragement and anxiety everywhere I trod. In the late watches of the night, my mind would recount every failure, real or imagined, no matter how small.

Then one night, I came across this scripture: For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast (Ephesians 2:8-9). I bethought myself, “what is faith? And do I truly possess it?” Many sleepless nights followed, my brother. A dread fear of the doubt I perceived within drove me to the nearby moor where I could cry out to the heavens without disturbing others.

I decided to go back to the scriptures and dig deeper. I discovered that the ancients described our Lord as “faithful” numerous times. This word denotes steadfastness, fidelity, and loyalty, like that given to a liege lord. Though I discovered that St. Paul preferred to compare it to a marriage covenant. I learned that faith is not merely intellectual belief but, rather, an allegiance to the One in whom we choose to place our trust—especially in moments of doubt. Remaining loyal even through doubtful times is a powerful weapon against the enemy, brother Atticus, and no mistake.

So, being plagued with doubt may have been the very discipline I needed. Indeed, doubt strengthens faith much like a muscle grows from hard labor. George MacDonald, a Nineteenth century Scottish minister I met through our mutual friend, Alisdair—Atticus, you must read some of this excellent Scotsman’s works—In any case, he says, “Doubts are the messengers of the Living One to the honest. They are the first knock at our door of things that are not yet, but have to be, understood….” Suddenly, I began to see that if doubt is a messenger, I had failed to understand the message. My response to doubt was a strange mingling of fear and pride. I worked harder and critiqued more to mitigate the fear and increase the pride. Thanks be to the Almighty my strategy failed.

I am not perfected by any means, but I feel that the sanctification process is now properly under way. I am serving our Lord with more peace and less competition. More love and less judgment. And I am learning what my gifts are, which are different from my neighbor’s. This has been so liberating, brother. It pains to think of the time I wasted trying to be righteous rather than accepting that I was and am not anything of the sort. And I am ashamed of how I may have hurt others with my severity.

Nevertheless, I am grateful for that “dark night of the soul,” as St. John of the Cross describes it, when doubt humbled me. Precious doubt, though surgical in its method, opened the door to a deeper faith, borne of love and joy.

Hebrews 12:11now holds new meaning. When I work, I am filled with gratitude that I am doing so in the liberty of acceptance, nay adoption, by my Lord—not to endlessly seek approval or earn forgiveness. This allows room for me to cultivate my God-given gifts. And I can now appreciate the gifts of others, rather than forcing my prideful expectations upon them.  

And when discipline is necessary, I will not feel that I am simply being punished. Sometimes we do need to discipline ourselves, of course, and sometimes the Creator, our Lord, our true Father in Heaven, does the disciplining, much like a sculptor chiseling stone to release the beautiful form within it, as Michelangelo would say. So, I am encouraged by this truth as I hope you will be, my dear Atticus. Discipline is not always enjoyable. However, it can be bracing and lead to many new adventures as we journey onward!

I remain, your faithful brother and fellow sojourner in Christ,

Tilian