The Doubters' Club

Good-Faith Conversations with Skeptics, Atheists, and the Spiritually Wounded

Preston Ulmer

• Publisher: NavPress
• Year: 2021
• Print ISBN: 9781641583350
• eBook ISBN: 9781641583374
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Christian Ministry

The closer we get to the heart of God, the closer we should grow toward the doubter, the skeptic, the differing perspective, even the atheist.

And that should make us wonder: Is it possible to grow in our Christian faith without engaging the doubter or the skeptic? And if growing in our faith means growing closer to the doubter, how do we do that without compromising what we believe to be true?

The Doubters' Club is a guide for people who want to live in friendship with those who think differently than them. In The Doubters' Club, you'll learn how to: (1) rebuild the impression the other person has of us as Christians; (2) renovate the intention we have with the nonbeliever; (3) rely on an invitation into real life (not a church service); (4) reexamine our views through initiating conversations that matter; and (5) redefine progress as imitation, not just immersion. You'll get practical steps and tools to help you navigate relationships and conversations—but not foolproof methods (because there aren't any).

Maybe you're ready to take a chance because it's your mom or dad who is the skeptic, a sibling, an old friend, a coworker, or a neighbor. Maybe you're just ready to embrace the adventure of your faith. If you are open to the mystery of doubt, The Doubters' Club invites you to bring your uncertainties as common ground for relationship with skeptics and see what God does.

1: GOD OF THE DOUBTER: Out of the Faith, into the Kingdom

Loss is like a wind, it either carries you to a new destination or it traps you in an ocean of stagnation. You must quickly learn how to navigate the sail, for stagnation is death.

VAL UCHENDU

So, you’re telling me there’s a chance?

LLOYD CHRISTMAS, Dumb and Dumber

THE FIRST TIME I SAW DUMB AND DUMBER, I was reduced to a dribbling, hysterical wreck. I don’t remember the where, when, or who I was with, but I can recall most of the lines. I learned that “you can’t triple stamp a double stamp,” and there is no use in arguing over it. I also learned that traveling four inches, according to the map, is incredibly disappointing on a road trip. Jim Carey and Jeff Daniels had a way of tossing my intellectual pretensions out the window for an hour and forty-seven minutes and filling my brain with laugh-worthy quotes. Among all the lines, there is an iconic scene between Jim Carey’s character, Lloyd Christmas, and his love interest, Mary Swanson. It has since become a classic moment in American cinematography.

Lloyd finds that he is in love with Mary, who is part of a scheme that he is trying to rescue her from. In one moment, they are alone together, and he says to her:

“What do you think the chances are of a guy like you and a girl like me . . . ending up together?” . . .

“Not good,” she says.

Lloyd persists. “You mean . . . not good like one out of a hundred?”

She says, “I’d say more like one out of a million.”

After a long pause Lloyd’s countenance is lifted as he sees the silver lining in it all. With newfound confidence he says that classic line: “So, you’re telling me there’s a chance?”

If you have ever known someone who was once a Christian but has since become a skeptic or doubter, it can often feel like Lloyd had a better chance at taking Mary out than they have at returning to Jesus. They have just enough questions to sink the ship they used to sail and just enough Bible knowledge to poke holes in yours. Honestly, it can be a frightening thing. These people are famously identified as “nones.” No affiliation with religious beliefs or practices. In October of 2020, there was a post on the Religion in Public blog by Professors Paul Djupe and Ryan Burge. As they continue to research the decline of religion, they stated that “the most momentous change in American religion over the last 25 years has been the growth of the religious nones from 5 percent in 1994 to 34 percent in 2019.”[1]

Author John S. Dickerson saw a growing number of nones back in 2013. According to Dickerson’s book The Great Evangelical Recession, reports were showing an increase in the amount of people who would not consider themselves religious. And an even larger number of people than ever who are abandoning the faith.

“The natural, fear-based reaction to these changes,” Dickerson writes, “is to raise our guard and fight for our rights.”[2] Based on the statistics, it’s safe to say fear-based reactions are not winning others over. It’s time we respond, not react.

Most of us are connected to someone who falls into one of these statistics: the not religious or the ones who have abandoned the faith altogether. Please do not lose heart! Believe it or not, stepping away from a faith that they do not sincerely hold to is the right move to make. I was once a spiritual seeker, doubter, and abandoner of the faith. Let me tell you what drew me back into the Christian faith.

It was a person, not a program.

A detour, not a destination.

A commitment, not a conversion.

A patience, not a prayer.

Perhaps most revolutionary of them all, it was someone who led with their weakness, not their strength.

I’m saying there’s still a chance!

How I Defied the Odds

When I was in Bible college, I started to have doubts about the faith. It doesn’t happen to everyone, but I can recall exactly where I was when it started. I was flying to New Mexico after speaking at a youth event in Arkansas. I used to always sit in the window seat, put on my headphones, look out the window, and pray. Add pretzels and cranberry juice to the mix and it was, for all intents and purposes, Communion with Christ. So I boarded the plane, pressed play on my iPod, looked out the window, and felt . . . nothing. For the first time, my thoughts about God were not comforting. If anything, they were working against me.

Why didn’t God heal the youth pastor I prayed for yesterday?

Do I even believe the message I spoke?

How stupid am I? Staring out the window, praying to an invisible God.

To say they snowballed is an understatement. Over the next few weeks, I was waking up with more questions. Some historical. Some existential. But all of them unwanted. They trespassed on every positive experience I ever had with God. When I would think about youth camps, I wouldn’t remember being called to ministry by the presence of God; I would dwell on the manipulative rhetoric the preacher used. I wasn’t called. I was coerced. Going to church became altogether weird. Praise and worship were no longer a time to sing the borrowed prayers of our brothers and sisters. Instead, I observed my friends go into a trance from some Christian version of karaoke. They weren’t worshiping. They were brainwashed.

And worst of all was when I was alone. At least in public my doubts were tempered by all the distractions and authentic friendships. When I was alone, I had no hope of recovering. I was leaving the faith one day at a time. It started with not feeling the presence of God, and it progressively turned into not believing there is a presence to be felt. Doubts turned into depression, and depression made me desperate. As you are about to see, I was willing to try just about anything to make my questions go away.

When my pastor found out I was doubting, he called me in his office after service. His office smelled like coffee. The couches were well-kept, and the books aligned on the bookshelf perfectly. It was the type of office that made you address him as Pastor. Even if you would normally be on a first-name basis, not in his office.

“Preston, sit right here.” He motioned for some of the available staff to come in.

“Close the door,” he said as he laid his hand on my shoulder.

Giving the staff the CliffsNotes version of my struggle was all they needed. They had a second service to get to, after all. The pastor conveyed to them that the enemy of my soul was attacking my belief in God because I was doubting the faith and experiencing bouts of depression. Then they tried to cast out any demon of doubt, followed by telling me to listen to more worship music and sleep on the Bible. You heard that right, they told me to sleep on the Bible. Apparently, it was supposed to work like osmosis. “Keep your mind pure,” they said. And since I was desperate, I tried all those things.

Maybe it was because I slept on the wrong Bible translation, but as you can imagine, none of it worked. I went from doubting, to depressed, to desperate, to thoroughly disappointed. Disappointed because my suspicions were confirmed. If God wasn’t willing to show up when I really needed him, maybe it’s because he can’t show up. Maybe it’s because he is not real.

To be clear, I wasn’t just wondering about the existence of God. My understanding of faith and life was breaking down, which eventually deconstructed my entire worldview.

Following my failed deliverance, I went to a doctor. Perhaps something was off with my hormones. Maybe I don’t have the capacity to think straight. Maybe I’m sick. I told the doctor about the crazy thoughts I was having and how it was causing me to stay in bed well past noon.

“It’s not situational depression,” I told him. “There isn’t really anything for me to be depressed about.”

It felt more permanent than that. I remember even telling the doctor to find something wrong with me. I needed a pill to make my pain go away.

After the blood results came in, the doctor told me that all my levels were fine. This is the report that most people want to hear from the doctor, but not me. All this meant was that I was responsible for handling my doubts and depression. There was no way out other than admitting that they were valid and welcoming them in. I thought the day I invited Jesus into my heart, he would protect me from all the intruders who would come barging in. Apparently, he wasn’t in there anymore. Doubt and depression made themselves right at home. At this point, I would have taken either: a pill or a Savior.

The summer was coming to an end, and I knew I couldn’t go back to Bible college. But I wanted something to show for my time there. I needed to go back to at least finish my associate’s degree. The problem was, I was supposed to be the head resident assistant of a dorm. Imagine that! A doubting spiritual leader praying for you, planning devotionals, and talking theology.

I emailed the resident director to let her know what I was going through. To address the depression, she encouraged me by quoting Scripture and speaking to the potential she saw in my life. As far as the doubting went, not much was said about it, but she did want me to return to the college. I wasn’t sure what type of train wreck was ahead, but the conductor gave me the thumbs up, and I needed a degree. I was shy about my unbelief because I knew it wouldn’t go over well.

The next part of my journey is a game changer. To quote writer and philosopher Albert Camus: “In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”[3] I’m always hesitant to share it for a few reasons. First, some people find divine encounters off-putting, and it ends up discrediting the entire story. If that’s you, just remember that I’m naturally very skeptical of supernatural claims, and I totally understand your suspicion. After all, I am the one who started something called “The Doubters’ Club.” Second, divine encounters are not regular pit stops on our detour away from God. I can’t say this will happen to everyone, but it happened to me. All I can say is that authenticity before God was the only option I had left.

I arrived at the dorms in the afternoon and was supposed to be leading a meeting within the hour. Exhausted after bringing in my luggage, I slumped down onto the futon and wept. I was tired of fighting for something I didn’t believe in with someone who wasn’t there. I didn’t know how this was going to look for the next academic year, but none of the outcomes seemed promising. I was a doubter at a Bible college who didn’t believe in the Bible. Sick and tired of everything “Christian,” here is all I had to say to God:

“God, if you are up there and you don’t do something now, I will never come back to you.”

It wasn’t an ultimatum. That’s what you do when you are playing religion and trying to twist God’s arm —you give him an ultimatum. This was authentic. This is what one lover says to another when they are tired of the way the ot...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Endorsements
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Introduction: Great Minds Do Not Think Alike
• Chapter 1: God of the Doubter: Out of the Faith, into the Kingdom
• Chapter 2: God, I’m Tired of This: The Exhaustion of Only Having Christian Friends
• Chapter 3: God of the Detour: You Cannot Clean Up What Was Meant to Be Messy
• Chapter 4: Impression: How to Rebuild Someone’s Impression of You
• Chapter 5: Intention: How to Renovate Your Intentions for the Nonbeliever
• Chapter 6: Invitation: How to Invite the Nonbeliever into Real Life, Not a Church Service
• Chapter 7: Initiation: How to Re-examine Our Views through Conversations That Matter
• Chapter 8: Imitation: How to Redefine Progress
• Chapter 9: Concluding with the CliffsNotes: How to Get This Party Started!
• Acknowledgments