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Not Sure: A Pastor's Journey from Faith to Doubt
In 2002, while touring North America with his wife in an RV, John Suk -- lifelong Christian, longtime pastor, and noted leader in the Christian Reformed Church -- experienced a crippling crisis of faith. He emerged from that dark time with a strange new gift -- doubt.In Not Sure Suk takes readers on an eyes-wide-open, deeply personal voyage through the past and present of Christian belief, reexamining Christian faith -- in his own life and in fifteen centuries of Christian history -- through a skeptic's eyes. He exposes major pitfalls of modern Christian movements and questions what he considers to be faulty the "personal relationship with Jesus," the "health-and-wealth gospel," and traditional ethnicity-based belief systems. In the end he is left clinging to what is for him a truer, wiser kind of faith in Jesus Christ -- faith that struggles and lives with doubt.Watch the
224 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 2, 2011
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
September 25, 2014
This was a tough read for me in the way it was a "tough write" for John Suk. I, too, come out of the CRC tradition, but unlike John, I was not raised in "the tribe." My dad is a now-retired CRC pastor but worked mostly in non-traditional Home Missions parishes, so I was "of but not IN the tribe". I appreciate the author's weaving of the church's historical narrative and his own personal journeys, especially his willingness to offer up examples of his shortcomings and awkward epiphanies along the way. I've lost faith in the institutional church, with its hypocrisy, racism, sexism, and the politicization of its leaders, but seemingly miraculously, I haven't lost my faith. I don't think I've ever been sure in my faith. Too many really crappy things have happened to me and my family as a result of thinking outside the tribe, even when I was a kid. What I find reassuring now is that I can find other people also beginning to admit that they're not sure. Women of all colors, in particular, have suffered greatly, largely in silence, but more and more are opening up. I have found it's better to just be honest about it, moving forward, than to lose myself in pretense and resentment. When someone with as much integrity and compassion as John Suk can articulate his journey of doubt with such intricately researched, valuable context and insight, it is worth the read.
October 6, 2013
This was a hard book for me to read, being at the same time heartbreaking and mystifying. It was heartbreaking because the pain, stress, and loneliness that the author, John Suk, has experienced over the last fifteen or twenty years is laid bare on many of the pages. I believe him when he writes that doubt is not something he chose, but is more like a virus that he caught. Nevertheless I was also puzzled by his description of the faith he can no longer embrace, which was replaced by a large measure of doubt. And most of all, I am completely mystified by his choice of worldview. If doubt really is something you do not choose, but catch, like a virus, why would you willingly make such an infection virtually inevitable by fostering conditions where you can not only catch it, but where it can thrive?
One of the causes of his doubt is his presumption that the kind of faith of his heritage, the Christian Reformed Church, was largely a sociological construction. He asserts that it consisted of little more than an adherence to a set of doctrines established for the purpose of maintaining community coherence. Often lacking in love and rich in dogmatic inflexibility and a fervent desire to be right, people used doctrine as a weapon, producing endless divisions and damage in the church. He concludes that we ought to downgrade the importance of doctrine because historically it has done more harm than good.
But the erroneous and even at times downright sinful conduct of some of our Reformed forebears does not support the conclusion that the author draws. Rather, what does follow is that we ought to learn from the past (and repent when it has been true of us) by exercising more wisdom and grace in handling doctrine and dealing with fellow Christians with whom we disagree. Furthermore, the author overstates his case by failing to mention the vast historic agreement over primary doctrines (the authority of Scripture and the nature of the gospel) even while differences existed at the level of secondary doctrines, and yes, people often elevated secondary ones to the status of primary.
He seems to use the word "doctrine" in a pejorative sense, as if it is an artificial, man-made systematization of ultimately insignificant minutiae. But surely "doctrine" refers to anything the Bible teaches. So the answer to the question "What must I do to be saved?" is doctrine. He nevertheless, in what looks to me like a sneaky move, distinguishes doctrine from what he calls "God's larger intentions", which he claims is love of God and neighbour (p. 129). I say this is sneaky because the answer to the question "What does it mean to love God and neighbour?" is doctrine too. Labelling one set of concerns "doctrine" and the other "God's larger intentions" is just a way for him to sweep away the questions he doesn't want to deal with.
Throughout the book, the author's doubt seems to be in reaction to a one-dimensional, flattened-out faith and an unloving legalism, both of which are contrary to the clear teaching of Scripture. Of course, he intimates that there are no clear teachings of Scripture, except a vague concern about caritas and love of God and neighbour.
And this brings me to my last point. I think his embrace of postmodernism has made skepticism and doubt inevitable, and has just poured gasoline on the fire of the doubt he had as a younger person. Let me quickly lay out three aspects of postmodernism that are absolutely antithetical to Biblical Christianity.
First, postmodernism does not allow for metanarratives, which are stories or truths that apply to everyone in the world. Guess what, Christianity is a metanarrative. So what happens is that Christianity becomes true "for us," just as Buddhism is true for those in that culture, and so on. Therefore, I am not surprised to see that the author implies that he has become a religious pluralist (p. 207 - "And, Jesus adds, not only does he have us Christians, but he has other sheep, too.")
Second, postmodernism claims that we can never recover the original authorial intent from a document, but we create the meaning depending on what group we belong to. Thus there are as many legitimate interpretations of Scripture as there are groups and cultures. (Of course the self-refuting nature of this claim becomes clear when postmodern authors expect us to interpret them correctly and become upset when we do not do so).
Third, what this means is that in postmodernism there is no authority, only power. Everything is seen in terms of power moves and oppression, victims and victimizers. Scripture has no authority over us, but instead we use Scripture as a means of exercising power and oppression over other people. This comes through loud and clear everywhere in the book; for example, his overstatement of the sins of Western Christians while ignoring the many good things they have done.
In assessing this book, I have to wonder whether the Bible holds any authority over him at all? On any contentious issue where the culture and historic Christianity are in conflict, it appears that he has sided with the secular culture rather than with what the Bible has traditionally been understood to teach. Does he hold any beliefs that are at variance with the culture, simply because the Bible says so? The culture essentially teaches justification by death, and as his understanding of the gospel puts "an emphasis on grace to the exclusion of judgement," he appears to do the same. Of course this begs the question, why did Christ have to die? I wonder how the author would answer that.
The bottom line for me was that throughout the book I had the nagging question of whether I was reading about doubt, or whether it was simply unbelief masquerading as doubt. It was, in places, hard for me to tell the difference. I was also left wondering why in the world would he adopt postmodernism and then be surprised at the magnitude of the doubt he acquired. It seems he had some doubt to begin with, but to make this epistemological commitment is in my opinion to cure a headache by cutting off the head. It is to tie a cinder block to yourself and wonder why you can't swim.
I am not throwing stones. I do wish John Suk well. I only hope he comes to realize that he doesn't have to adopt postmodernism to correct the excesses of Enlightenment modernism and the foolishness of sinful people. Perhaps a reconsideration in this area would dissipate some or much of his doubts.
But, finally, he has not been conquered by his doubt. I do find encouragement in the little fragile snippets of faith that it seems he clings to, and I will close with one: "...in moment of greatest despair, or loneliness, or even joy, I find that the hope of redemption and the promise of God's providence are things that I cannot help but hope for, something that I ultimately explain by the mysterious work of God the Spirit in my soul. So, haltingly - and with much leftover doubt - I continue to believe, to trust" (p. 130). Amen to that.
One of the causes of his doubt is his presumption that the kind of faith of his heritage, the Christian Reformed Church, was largely a sociological construction. He asserts that it consisted of little more than an adherence to a set of doctrines established for the purpose of maintaining community coherence. Often lacking in love and rich in dogmatic inflexibility and a fervent desire to be right, people used doctrine as a weapon, producing endless divisions and damage in the church. He concludes that we ought to downgrade the importance of doctrine because historically it has done more harm than good.
But the erroneous and even at times downright sinful conduct of some of our Reformed forebears does not support the conclusion that the author draws. Rather, what does follow is that we ought to learn from the past (and repent when it has been true of us) by exercising more wisdom and grace in handling doctrine and dealing with fellow Christians with whom we disagree. Furthermore, the author overstates his case by failing to mention the vast historic agreement over primary doctrines (the authority of Scripture and the nature of the gospel) even while differences existed at the level of secondary doctrines, and yes, people often elevated secondary ones to the status of primary.
He seems to use the word "doctrine" in a pejorative sense, as if it is an artificial, man-made systematization of ultimately insignificant minutiae. But surely "doctrine" refers to anything the Bible teaches. So the answer to the question "What must I do to be saved?" is doctrine. He nevertheless, in what looks to me like a sneaky move, distinguishes doctrine from what he calls "God's larger intentions", which he claims is love of God and neighbour (p. 129). I say this is sneaky because the answer to the question "What does it mean to love God and neighbour?" is doctrine too. Labelling one set of concerns "doctrine" and the other "God's larger intentions" is just a way for him to sweep away the questions he doesn't want to deal with.
Throughout the book, the author's doubt seems to be in reaction to a one-dimensional, flattened-out faith and an unloving legalism, both of which are contrary to the clear teaching of Scripture. Of course, he intimates that there are no clear teachings of Scripture, except a vague concern about caritas and love of God and neighbour.
And this brings me to my last point. I think his embrace of postmodernism has made skepticism and doubt inevitable, and has just poured gasoline on the fire of the doubt he had as a younger person. Let me quickly lay out three aspects of postmodernism that are absolutely antithetical to Biblical Christianity.
First, postmodernism does not allow for metanarratives, which are stories or truths that apply to everyone in the world. Guess what, Christianity is a metanarrative. So what happens is that Christianity becomes true "for us," just as Buddhism is true for those in that culture, and so on. Therefore, I am not surprised to see that the author implies that he has become a religious pluralist (p. 207 - "And, Jesus adds, not only does he have us Christians, but he has other sheep, too.")
Second, postmodernism claims that we can never recover the original authorial intent from a document, but we create the meaning depending on what group we belong to. Thus there are as many legitimate interpretations of Scripture as there are groups and cultures. (Of course the self-refuting nature of this claim becomes clear when postmodern authors expect us to interpret them correctly and become upset when we do not do so).
Third, what this means is that in postmodernism there is no authority, only power. Everything is seen in terms of power moves and oppression, victims and victimizers. Scripture has no authority over us, but instead we use Scripture as a means of exercising power and oppression over other people. This comes through loud and clear everywhere in the book; for example, his overstatement of the sins of Western Christians while ignoring the many good things they have done.
In assessing this book, I have to wonder whether the Bible holds any authority over him at all? On any contentious issue where the culture and historic Christianity are in conflict, it appears that he has sided with the secular culture rather than with what the Bible has traditionally been understood to teach. Does he hold any beliefs that are at variance with the culture, simply because the Bible says so? The culture essentially teaches justification by death, and as his understanding of the gospel puts "an emphasis on grace to the exclusion of judgement," he appears to do the same. Of course this begs the question, why did Christ have to die? I wonder how the author would answer that.
The bottom line for me was that throughout the book I had the nagging question of whether I was reading about doubt, or whether it was simply unbelief masquerading as doubt. It was, in places, hard for me to tell the difference. I was also left wondering why in the world would he adopt postmodernism and then be surprised at the magnitude of the doubt he acquired. It seems he had some doubt to begin with, but to make this epistemological commitment is in my opinion to cure a headache by cutting off the head. It is to tie a cinder block to yourself and wonder why you can't swim.
I am not throwing stones. I do wish John Suk well. I only hope he comes to realize that he doesn't have to adopt postmodernism to correct the excesses of Enlightenment modernism and the foolishness of sinful people. Perhaps a reconsideration in this area would dissipate some or much of his doubts.
But, finally, he has not been conquered by his doubt. I do find encouragement in the little fragile snippets of faith that it seems he clings to, and I will close with one: "...in moment of greatest despair, or loneliness, or even joy, I find that the hope of redemption and the promise of God's providence are things that I cannot help but hope for, something that I ultimately explain by the mysterious work of God the Spirit in my soul. So, haltingly - and with much leftover doubt - I continue to believe, to trust" (p. 130). Amen to that.
Read
April 28, 2012In her now famous TED talk, Brene Brown spoke about the power of vulnerability to sustain a whole life. That talk received over 4 million hits. John Suk understands the importance of living an honest life, which is another way of speaking of vulnerability. He writes of his movement from secure (mostly unquestioned) faith through a dismantling of faith to an embrace of doubt. Agnosticism receives a clear eyed affirmation. There is something predictable about this path but not in the way Suk tells it. Not content with a narrow memoir, he explores various Christian movements that undermine honest faith. “Doubt,” says Suk, “is like a new set of glasses: you see more, but it also hurts.” It hurts because you begin to see what you had previously either ignored or were unable to see. Now seeing, it is impossible to turn away. The result is a bracing honest appraisal of a modest life that refuses to embrace what is no longer believed. Many pastors find themselves in a terrible squeeze between what they no long believe and what they feel compelled to say every Sunday morning. The consequence is safe sermons that say only enough to satisfy the weak. John Suk’s pastoral reflections will be a great aid to those preachers who dare face their doubts and live honestly with their faith.
July 14, 2014
I liked this book much more than I expected. It is at times winsome, thoughtful, tragic, and critical. Offers important critiques for ministry in the CRC that ought to be heard and heeded. I thought the challenges Suk pointed to were accurate, especially the issues of changing learning styles and our society's interaction with technology. I thought his solutions to those problems, however, were less than satisfying.
I highly recommend this book for pastors. It offers a strong critique of the church and ministry in the CRC and I found a lot of great ideas for addressing issues that people wrestle with concerning faith and doubt and membership and theology in sermons. For anybody else, I'm not sure I'd recommend it.
I highly recommend this book for pastors. It offers a strong critique of the church and ministry in the CRC and I found a lot of great ideas for addressing issues that people wrestle with concerning faith and doubt and membership and theology in sermons. For anybody else, I'm not sure I'd recommend it.
July 21, 2013
I took my time reading this book -- not because it was academically difficult; it was an easy read in that sense, but there were many times I found John was poking in sensitive areas of my own life. So I would read then reflect. I'm going to read it again before saying anything else.
January 20, 2024
I try, these days, not to base my review on whether or not I agree with someone…but perhaps moreso how much the book made me think.
Not Sure will be sticking with me for a while.
It reads much more sociologically than I was expecting for a book on faith and doubt, but the basic framework is nonetheless helpful -
Premodern - existence of God was the assumption, Bible was understood narratively and “agonistically”
Modern - literacy spread, Bible was understood literately and literally, debates arose, faith took on intellectual tones
Postmodern - return to more oral tradition, but with a shorter attention span and still fighting the modernist battles of proofs and “certainty.”
I think Suk gives voice to something we all probably face as believers in Christ - I’m not exactly “SURE.” Am I convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that everything I believe is real (in the way I believe it)?
No, I’m not.
(I am leaving out my own rambles on this at this juncture, in the interest of charity.)
This is a very good read (even if it’s a bit dense at times) for believers struggling with the pressure to feel “sure” or even an ‘unbeliever’ who wonders how folks can believe this stuff.
I’ll be thinking about this book for a while now.
Not Sure will be sticking with me for a while.
It reads much more sociologically than I was expecting for a book on faith and doubt, but the basic framework is nonetheless helpful -
Premodern - existence of God was the assumption, Bible was understood narratively and “agonistically”
Modern - literacy spread, Bible was understood literately and literally, debates arose, faith took on intellectual tones
Postmodern - return to more oral tradition, but with a shorter attention span and still fighting the modernist battles of proofs and “certainty.”
I think Suk gives voice to something we all probably face as believers in Christ - I’m not exactly “SURE.” Am I convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that everything I believe is real (in the way I believe it)?
No, I’m not.
(I am leaving out my own rambles on this at this juncture, in the interest of charity.)
This is a very good read (even if it’s a bit dense at times) for believers struggling with the pressure to feel “sure” or even an ‘unbeliever’ who wonders how folks can believe this stuff.
I’ll be thinking about this book for a while now.
March 19, 2018
I liked the beginning and the end...the book is written by a philosopher and is heavier than i expected (or wanted). There are some tangents i could not track in the middle chapters.
What I loved, though, is his deconstruction of what it means to have faith. That alone is worth reading the book.
What I loved, though, is his deconstruction of what it means to have faith. That alone is worth reading the book.
March 12, 2020
While well-written, this book was just depressing and I would argue, dangerous. It was so bad, I don't really even care to say much more about it other than that I wish I hadn't wasted my money on it.
February 6, 2017
This book brings up many mixed feelings, partly because as I read the book I knew he had left the denomination that was our common religious home (The Christian Reformed Church). So I read it in the mood of disappointment that he'd given up on our community.
Yet there is an insightful and literary edge to the story with which I empathize. It gives voice to uncertainty, doubt, and lament, the shadow side of faith and church-life, and that is both refreshing and humbling. He ties this in with broader social-cultural shifts, and its an artful rendering of his life and our context.
On the other hand, I have more doubts about doubt than Suk does. I'm more in the orbit of Jamie Smith, who says that objective certainty is impossible, but that impossibility is part of being a finite human creature. The postmodern preoccupation with suspicion is only the mirror of a modern preoccupation with certainty. It assume the same definition of "knowledge" as objective certainty, only postmoderns assume it cannot be attained. Moderns assumed it could be attained.
So when Suk says when it comes to dancing his faith, he has "two left feet" I think "Yes, don't we all." Those who appear to have no doubts think faith is certainty. Those who give up on faith likewise assume it requires certainty to be faith.
This is really not too different from where Suk comes down when he says faith is trust. But he emphasizes the failure of church institutions in a way that betrays a shattering of his sense of trust. Its a move that Henry De Bolster and Henry Wildeboer in their respective biographies, which are rifled with messy church quarrels, fights and splits, do not make. They are not naive. But they still trust that institutions, in a very human way, can carry a sense of divine purpose. Not perfectly. Not certainly. But in a creaturely sort of way.
Doubt is always secondary to some faith. Questions are always asked from a platform of some conviction. I'm suspicious of too much suspicion, for I suspect there are commitments that undergird suspicion that are not fully or openly articulated. Suspicion is the flipside of some prior interrogative faith.
I'm sorry that Suk has left. I don't agree with his positions on a number of issues and maybe his leaving is for the better welfare of Suk and the CRC. But I'm glad he told his story, and he tells it with great rhetorical skill. He still loves and trusts Jesus.
I still wrestle with his conclusions. His experience has left him "shell-shocked" and with a "loss of appetite" for church institutions. This is the story of his disillusionment. Losing illusions is a gift, but I suspect there is more going on here that could not be said.
Yet there is an insightful and literary edge to the story with which I empathize. It gives voice to uncertainty, doubt, and lament, the shadow side of faith and church-life, and that is both refreshing and humbling. He ties this in with broader social-cultural shifts, and its an artful rendering of his life and our context.
On the other hand, I have more doubts about doubt than Suk does. I'm more in the orbit of Jamie Smith, who says that objective certainty is impossible, but that impossibility is part of being a finite human creature. The postmodern preoccupation with suspicion is only the mirror of a modern preoccupation with certainty. It assume the same definition of "knowledge" as objective certainty, only postmoderns assume it cannot be attained. Moderns assumed it could be attained.
So when Suk says when it comes to dancing his faith, he has "two left feet" I think "Yes, don't we all." Those who appear to have no doubts think faith is certainty. Those who give up on faith likewise assume it requires certainty to be faith.
This is really not too different from where Suk comes down when he says faith is trust. But he emphasizes the failure of church institutions in a way that betrays a shattering of his sense of trust. Its a move that Henry De Bolster and Henry Wildeboer in their respective biographies, which are rifled with messy church quarrels, fights and splits, do not make. They are not naive. But they still trust that institutions, in a very human way, can carry a sense of divine purpose. Not perfectly. Not certainly. But in a creaturely sort of way.
Doubt is always secondary to some faith. Questions are always asked from a platform of some conviction. I'm suspicious of too much suspicion, for I suspect there are commitments that undergird suspicion that are not fully or openly articulated. Suspicion is the flipside of some prior interrogative faith.
I'm sorry that Suk has left. I don't agree with his positions on a number of issues and maybe his leaving is for the better welfare of Suk and the CRC. But I'm glad he told his story, and he tells it with great rhetorical skill. He still loves and trusts Jesus.
I still wrestle with his conclusions. His experience has left him "shell-shocked" and with a "loss of appetite" for church institutions. This is the story of his disillusionment. Losing illusions is a gift, but I suspect there is more going on here that could not be said.
August 21, 2012
This was an engaging read that creatively combined a personal memoir of faith with the history of Christianity since the Middle Ages (that sounds like it wouldn't work, but it is actually pretty clever).
I really appreciated that Suk had done his research for the historical aspects of the book, while at the same time translating some very intellectual ideas into more distilled and accessible language. I read it along with family members, and though we all have different reading tastes and different levels of familiarity with the history of Christianity, we all found the book to be very insightful, as well as great for discussion!
A few other reviewers have mentioned that this would be a good book for ministry professionals who have struggled with doubt, and I'd like to add the recommendation for people who have grown up in (or near, in my case) to the Christian Reformed tradition. Suk shows the tension between a literate, intellectually-robust faith, and one that is forced to fit into overly-rationalized and overly-strict dogmas. His critique is multi-faceted, well argued, and best of all, comes from a place of humility and honesty, rather than the cynicism and self-righteousness that is often associated with a journey away from one's childhood faith.
I really appreciated that Suk had done his research for the historical aspects of the book, while at the same time translating some very intellectual ideas into more distilled and accessible language. I read it along with family members, and though we all have different reading tastes and different levels of familiarity with the history of Christianity, we all found the book to be very insightful, as well as great for discussion!
A few other reviewers have mentioned that this would be a good book for ministry professionals who have struggled with doubt, and I'd like to add the recommendation for people who have grown up in (or near, in my case) to the Christian Reformed tradition. Suk shows the tension between a literate, intellectually-robust faith, and one that is forced to fit into overly-rationalized and overly-strict dogmas. His critique is multi-faceted, well argued, and best of all, comes from a place of humility and honesty, rather than the cynicism and self-righteousness that is often associated with a journey away from one's childhood faith.
December 30, 2012
John Suk and I come from the same background and both entered ministry, so I was very interested to read his journey from that place. He uses the idea that "ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny" to compare his personal faith development with historic faith development over the centuries. If that sounds intriguing, it is. If it sounds just a bit arrogant, it is. I quibbled with him most in the area of post-modernity, or what he calls "secondary orality." And this matters in the sense that it might help him rediscover the faith that he seems to have lost. The choices are not rational faith/doubt. There is another way and I think this is where post-modernity is moving.
I'd love to hear what you think about this book, especially if you grew up in the Christian Reformed tradition!
I'd love to hear what you think about this book, especially if you grew up in the Christian Reformed tradition!
November 2, 2011
In Not Sure John Suk tells the story of a journey from enchanted orality to literacy and beyond. It is a story of a person who emerges out of a conservative, ethnic, doctrinal milieu. It's not the story of a loss of faith, but a story of discovering faith in the context of doubt. If you have struggled with competing loyalties, that is loyalty to a faith profession and a loyalty to the pursuit of what you believe to be true then this book will be of assistance.
I'll be writing a longer review at the blog, but may this be an initial contribution.
I'll be writing a longer review at the blog, but may this be an initial contribution.
March 3, 2015
Coming out of the CRC as a youngster, I get John's background and train of thought. Read this after reading an editorial he wrote on the goal of the Christian life, how the evangelical version ("personal relationship with Jesus" vs. living in the kingdom, or even the Westminster confession "enjoying God and serving him forever") can be a semantic disconnect for some of us. I appreciate the historical background and how he unfolds his experience. After a rough patch, the last chapter was soothing to the soul.
January 5, 2013
The book wrestles with the question of doubt, and as such it is something of a half-way project, this journey and its resolution are not yet complete.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews