Biblically Facing Your Religious Fears

I can still remember the frenzied, anxious cloud that hung over me, more than a decade ago, as I hunched over my dorm room desk. I was listening to an 8-hour apologetic sermon series on the existence of God. I needed to know that God exists, and I needed to know it with a level of certainty I didn’t yet have. My biggest religious fears weren’t related to my salvation, or my internal thought life, or my daily spiritual activities. Did God exist, or not? If He didn’t, none of my other spiritual concerns mattered.

I’ve written another blog post about people with OCD doubting God’s existence, but I’d like to add another thought to that.

How do we face our biggest religious fears without becoming an all-out skeptic? How can an exercise in mental health take place without affecting our spiritual health? And how can you “make peace” with your religious fears without agreeing with them?

Embrace the Limitations of Human Knowledge

In my videos, blog posts, and master class, I talk much about “uncertainty” and embracing the limits of human knowledge. As Paul said, “For we know in part and we prophesy in part,” (1 Corinthians 13:9) and it’s only fair to allow that concept to have its full bearing on our spiritual lives. If the Bible says that we know partially, then we should expect to have partial understandings of…many things.

Even very important things.

Have you ever thought about the limitations of human knowledge in other, non-spiritual domains?

I had a well-meaning family member try to convince me that viruses are not real because what we know about viruses is constructed based partially on computer models, because the complete virus chains cannot be fully isolated in a laboratory setting. In other words, since we can’t fully understand viruses…

They don’t exist.

A few months ago ago, I tested positive for coronavirus. Then I traveled to Europe and got norovirus. Both cases were pretty nasty. I do believe in viruses, even though viruses are microscopic and hard to analyze. We use computer models to make assertions about viruses that “make sense” and “fit the evidence” even though there are a lot of things we can’t entirely prove.

If it wouldn’t cause a fight, I’d like to ask that same family member if he would like to have a surgery by doctors with unwashed hands and instruments! Theories about germs and viruses might be partial and incomplete, but the benefits of sanitization have proven themselves in real life: when surgeons wash their hands, less people die, and more people have healthier outcomes.

Similarly, we cannot prove everything about God’s existence, but we see the effects of God in real life. Jesus said,

The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.

John 3:8

I think also about dark matter and dark energy. Around 95% of the universe is comprised of things scientists can’t see or explain. Only 5% of our universe is made up of “normal” matter that we can understand! But the movement of the planets and celestial bodies cannot be explained without accounting for discrepancies that we just haven’t figured out yet. What is dark matter? No clue. But the universe is apparently not operating without it.

Facing our religious fears is made easier when we embrace the limitations of human knowledge. We just don’t know so many things. And that’s ok.

The word “omniscience” is a term used to describe God. Omniscience is the “all knowing” divine characteristic that can only be attributed to Him. But “omniscience” can also be used in a negative way when referring to human psychology. “Omniscience” is a cognitive distortion, a mental fallacy, when applied to human beings. Humans who think they are omniscient–or should be omniscient–are living a distorted reality.

That’s not to guilt trip you if you have a hard time letting go of things you can’t figure out. That’s just to give you permission to let go if you needed an excuse.

Only God is omniscient. The rest of us are limited, and we have every right to shrug our shoulders and say, “I don’t know.”

• “I don’t know the answer to that Bible question.”
• “I don’t know what God wants me to do about this situation.”
• “I don’t know for sure if I’m in the right church or not.”

And so on.

Making Peace With Our Religious Fears

“Making peace” with our biggest religious fears is a phrase I’ve said often. And it tends to freak people out a little. So let me give the full definition of what I mean so that I don’t get stoned or crucified!

God has told us not to fear. Hundreds of times in Scripture, He says “fear not.”

Therefore, my fears are an illegitimate use of my mental powers.

Fearing is not what I ought to be doing with my brain. Fear is an emotional intrusion into my brain, just as cancer cells are a physical intrusion into my body. As I grow and develop in my Christian walk, part of the process of sanctification involves fearing less. God told me not to fear, and He gives me all the necessary grace for that command to become a reality in my life. Yes, it takes time for me to learn how to lay down my fears and cast my cares upon Him. But living free from fear is a real goal in the Christian life, not a theoretical one.

So. If fear-free living is the goal, then I must of necessity do one of the following:

1. I must ANALYZE my fears from every angle so that I can understand them fully, explain them, and leverage all the powers of body, soul, and spirit to prevent my fears from happening, OR
2. I must engage in a reasonable amount of fear mitigation but at some point I must STOP and make peace with the fact that I am human and cannot proceed any further.

The person with OCD is simultaneously drawn to and repulsed by the idea of “solving” things. Our brains naturally gravitate towards activities that seem like they’ll help us “figure out” and “prevent” our problems. We overthink, fall into mental burnout, and finally extricate ourselves many months later. Then we realize the dangers of trying to solve everything. When every neuron in the brain is smoking and sparking from overuse, then we begin craving a way to stop “solving” everything.

And that’s the thing. Jesus never told us to “solve” our fears. He simply asked us to give them over. That’s how we deal with fear so that we can enjoy fear-free living. Not by solving, but by releasing.

Certainly, there’s a reasonable amount of “normal” problem-solving and fear mitigation that is appropriate–for example, I am afraid of spiders. I once heard that if you sleep with your mouth open at night, baby spiders go inside and you swallow tons of baby spiders over the course of your lifetime. (I don’t know if that’s actually true or not, but it’s stuck in my mind nonetheless.) I get a real jolt of fear every time I encounter a spider and would really be quite happy to never see one inside my house ever again.

So, a reasonable level of fear mitigation is to treat my house for spiders. We used to use a chemical spray before the baby came along, and now we use sticky traps. But our little one stuck her hand in a sticky trap the other day, so I think we’ll need to figure out a new method.

Treating for spiders with traps or chemicals is probably a normal level of mitigation. What would not be normal would be to tear the drywall off my walls, pull out the insulation, search every nook and cranny with a flashlight, and then tent the whole house to fumigate it. At some point, I have to stop and make peace with the fact that I can get rid of the majority of a spider infestation but I can’t get rid of stray spiders here and there that still make it into my home. I have to be okay with the idea that I will still come face to face with spiders at various times between now and the day I die.

I don’t like being surprised by a wooly spider when I’m least expecting it. But I can live with it.

And while the illustration of spiders is a fairly straightforward and easy example (since it doesn’t involve something eternal), we can do the same thing in our spiritual lives. We take reasonable steps to avoid a feared outcome and then leave the rest with God, refusing to get caught in an everlasting spiral of trying to prevent our fears from actualizing.

“…casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” —1 Peter 5:7

And when the “reasonable steps” fail to give us the comfort we desire, that’s when we have to make peace with the unknown–and that nebulous feeling of doom that comes from not having absolute assurance.

Here’s what that looks like for me when I lack certainty about the existence of God. In this scenario, my “feared outcome” is that God doesn’t exist, the Bible is a fairy tale, and my faith is in vain.

1. My “reasonable steps” are already done–they include a large body of research I have ingested over the course of my adult life, which at least lets me know that the existence of God is highly plausible though not fully confirmable.
2. Some days, my mind doesn’t accept this as valid enough or convincing enough, and I get feelings of despair and fear.
3. “Making peace” with these fears means that I acknowledge that I don’t know for certain but I am following a highly plausible ideology which has convinced the world’s brightest minds and has, at times, fully convinced my own mind. I acknowledge the presence of my doubts–ones which I have not managed to solve over many years–and I remember that for each doubt, I have read or come up with a rebuttal. And since nothing convinces me in any permanent way, I choose to be a Good Thomas and keep coming to Jesus with my doubts. I will keep praying, keep attending church, keep touching Jesus in the hands and in the side at every opportunity–but I leave it up to Him to clear my doubts or leave them as they are.

Is There a Place for Researching Our Religious Fears?

Experienced OCD-ers know that googling, researching, and excessive Bible studying are a form of “checking” compulsions. As such, they are ultimately unhelpful and will only spiral us further into doubt. When we begin engaging with OCD on its ground, we can do nothing but lose.

But IS there a place for researching Biblical doubts and questions?

Yes, but you have to do it right. Otherwise you’ll just make yourself neurotic.

Here’s a little self-test to find out if your researching is healthy, or if it’s been hijacked by OCD.

• Do you feel a radical sense of urgency to research about your spiritual questions, an urgency so intense that it’s almost impossible to focus on anything else until you give in?
• Do you initially feel better when you look up answers, but in a zoomed-out perspective feel that your excessive researching is actually making you worse?
• Does your habit of searching for answers feel like an addiction that is hard to break?
• Do you feel angry, depressed, anxious, or irrational when you aren’t able to find a satisfactory answer?
• Do you find yourself searching for the same answers over and over again, looking for a certain magic “it” button that will finally solve your fears?
• Do sound-minded loved ones who know you well say that you should let these things go?

If this list hits home for you, you might have been turning your theological research into a religious compulsion. But maybe you already knew that. The next question is, if you do have a compulsive drive in this area, is there ever room for proper theological inquiries? Or must we forsake theologizing forever in the name of OCD recovery?

This is not a theoretical question. I have had a number of clients tell me that their therapist told them to stop reading the Bible. Whether the original intent was meant to be a temporary break or a permanent change, I do not know. But most highly conscientious believers don’t take well to that suggestion–understandably so.

Let me share my suggestions here.

Each of us operate in one of two modes: our OCD mind, and our sound mind. I would say that Bible reading is a good thing–when you’re in your sound mind. Reading Scripture when you’re in your OCD mind is usually a bad idea. You will likely misinterpret much of what you read, you will spend countless hours ruminating in “gotta-be-omniscient” mode, and most likely will come away worse than before.

Certainly, there is a time and a place for theological research, but my suggestion is to decrease as much as possible the research happening when you are in your OCD mind. Most people cannot entirely make a break with this, and that’s fine. I think we all need some grace for the reality that compulsions are compulsions, and habits are tough to break overnight. But as much as possible, save your Bible reading and problem-solving for the times when you feel yourself to be in a sound mind, flying above the clouds of OCD.

Otherwise, when you know you’re in your OCD mind (which for some people might be the vast majority of time during this season of your life), the solution is to make peace with your fears. This doesn’t mean you’ll never find better answers, but if your brain cannot digest answers right now, you should stop digging for them.

It’s kind of like gorging yourself at an all-you-can-eat buffet when you have a complete obstruction in your intestines and cannot digest food at all. It would be better to stop eating for a period, get surgery to fix your intestines, and then slowly begin eating as your body can handle it.

Conclusion

Facing religious fears is never easy. There’s a cantankerous part of the OCD mind that insists on having omniscience and perfection. But life isn’t like that. Life is messy. Life is facing the unknowns every day, hand in hand with God, trusting that if He lets us miss our bus, or if He lets us get cancer, we will accept it. Even “if he slay me, yet will I trust Him,” as said Job.

We don’t know that everything will work out. That we’ll be saved, that God is real, that we aren’t disobeying/idolizing/breaking vows/committing mortal sins and so on.

Most people are fairly well convinced of these things (not omnisciently sure of them) and that’s enough to satisfy their minds. They’ll go the whole rest of their lives totally satisfied with a 90% level of assurance. That 90% is weighty enough that they never think twice.

The person with OCD, though, has major issues with the gray area. Were it not for God’s divine intervention and perhaps clinical intervention, we might spend the rest of our lives in a neurotic heap, trying to be omniscient.

But since we can’t be omniscient, and we don’t want to be permanently neurotic, my humble suggestion is to learn to make peace with your religious fears.

This really takes thinking outside the box, and coming up with rationale that you’ve not heard discussed in church before. But we have to do this because our brains work a little differently than most.

May God grant you each the grace to trust rather than solve, and to make peace with your fears.

(And psssst…a little spoiler here. It sounds counterintuitive, but as soon as you stop insisting on things going “your way” and let go of any expected outcomes and just start trusting Jesus with any result that may come, you’ll actually fare much better. You’ll probably have an initial jolt of deeply troubling anxiety that may last a few hours, days, or weeks…but then, the more you press into this mindset, the more your OCD will learn that it can’t shout “boo!” about this topic anymore, and it will move on. You might find yourself having a lot more assurance about important spiritual questions than you ever expected to have……..merely because you stopped insisting on having that assurance.)

Try it out, and see if it helps!

Best wishes on the journey,