Confidence about the right things is different from confidence about everything
SEP 02, 2026
Inspired by a Renovare newsletter article from Brian Morykon.
Certainty — cure, or curse?
My wife is a doctor, and she has illustrated to me both the value and the challenge with the desire for clarity. Every patient with troubling symptoms wants clarity about their condition and treatment. Very understandable. However, there are a surprisingly small number of things which can be medically described as 100% certain. Every doctor has experiences of patients who they fully expected to recover, and others that they fully expected to die, and yet the outcome was the opposite.
Medical science, like theology, is mostly not a discipline of precision. It is as much art as science. That’s because we’re not dealing with pure numbers or formulae, but people and, in our context, a relational God. In the desperate search for clarity, some doctors will authorise what the medical fraternity describe as over-investigation. The multiplicity of tests including various scans sometimes reveal indications of disease including tumours which might then be treated with toxic chemotherapy and surgeries which could cause more injury than cure. It’s not uncommonly the case that tumours resolve themselves. Symptoms should be investigated, but there is danger in over-investigation.
It is this balance between healthy clarity and pharisaical clarity that we investigate here.
I have a deep desire for certainty. I expect you do too. In two weeks’ time, I will have a steroid injection in my thumb. I want to be certain it will remove the arthritic pain. I’m not far off retiring. I want to be certain I have enough money to sustain me in retirement. As I write this article, my uncle is in the hospital. I want to be certain that he will recover and return home fit and well.
However, life, and perhaps especially a life of faith, has a troubled relationship with certainty.[1] And thereby we might be coming to the point. Relationships and certainty. Are they compatible? How does this apply to our relationship with our heavenly Father?
My relationship with my wife is not based on certainty. It is based on trust. I have enough confidence in her love for me that I am not insecure in our marriage. I restrain myself from insisting on certainty because I would become controlling, demanding more and more ongoing evidence of her love for me. That would suffocate and eventually destroy the relationship. The desire for certainty develops pressure, which is inimical to relational security.
So, what is the deal with certainty and faith? Is it a cure or a curse? Or neither?
Disorientation of Certainty
The ‘certainty’ Job enjoys in his relationship with God is not so much reoriented as crushed.
“Why did I not die at birth,
come forth from the womb and expire?
Why were there knees to receive me,
or breasts for me to suck?Job 3.11-12
The Psalms of Lament, written by David and other authors, testify to Israel’s disorientation regarding certainty.
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?”
Psalm 13.1-2
Watching The Chosen is both inspiring and disorienting. An experience that I find mirrors that of those who encounter Jesus.[2]
In the show—and in the gospels—over and over again, Jesus causes people to reconsider what they are certain of. Romans, Pharisees, disciples of John the Baptist, Samaritans, men, women, mothers, fathers, farmers, tax collectors, teachers, and many more find their worldviews challenged. Some joyfully embrace the reorientation (the Samaritan woman), others remain conflicted (Nicodemus), and still others become antagonistic (the Pharisees).
In challenging people’s certainties, Jesus is not suggesting that they abandon all confidence in what they believe or how to live. He is himself certain of his calling, his mission to reveal the kingdom, the nature of his heavenly father, and that his life is to be given for the healing of the world (we could add more). In attempting to open minds, he is not trying to empty them. No doubt he would agree with Chesterton, who said,
“Merely having an open mind is nothing. The object of opening the mind, as of opening the mouth, is to shut it again on something solid.”[3]
Reorientation of Certainty
Instead, I suggest Jesus’ aim is to reveal which beliefs and actions really matter, and which do not. Jesus does not reduce our certainty, only the number of things about which it is necessary to be certain.
I fear that our Western mindset has made certainty an idol. We hope that with enough industrial capacity, fiscal largesse, and scientific expertise, we will solve every problem. Soon, there will be no mysteries remaining.
Yet, God refuses to be demystified. As Peter Enns reminds us,
“The Bible isn’t a Christian owner’s manual. God remains shrouded in mystery, inaccessible, beyond our mental reach.” The Sin of Certainty
The paragons of faith in Scripture operated well outside the boundaries of certainty. Abraham might be the pre-eminent faith hero, but he acted in trust in God even when he did not know where he was going (Genesis 12.1–4; Hebrews 11.8), how a dead womb could bear fruit (Genesis 18.11–14; Romans 4.18–21), or how God would resurrect his son, Isaac (Genesis 22.1–14; Hebrews 11.17–19).
Abraham’s relationship with God was characterised by trusting obedience. God gave Abraham good cause to trust in him, but the relationship remained rooted in trust, not cast-iron certainty. Enns again:
“…faith in the Creator is necessarily transrational (not antirational) and mystical.” The Sin of Certainty
If a relationship with God is based on trust, is there a place for certainty?
Certainty as Cure
On the shores of Lake Galilee (John 21), Jesus cures Peter of his fears (Luke 22.56-60) such that he becomes a fearless preacher of the truth (Acts 2.14–36; Acts 4.13). Thomas moves from doubt to conviction (John 20.24-31). Paul graduates from misinformed persecutor to majestic proclaimer of Jesus as the Son of God (Acts 9.1–22; 2 Timothy 1.12). The list goes on.
There is a kind of certainty that brings life (2 Timothy 2.12). And a (short) list of things about which it is necessary to be certain. I suggest most of those can be found in 1 Corinthians 15.
“For what I received, I passed on to you as of first importance:” (1 Corinthians 15.3)
Certainty on a limited number of issues is vital. Let’s not forget that Jesus either was or was not the son of God. There is no middle ground. If we want to follow Christ, that is one of the essentials. However, what happens if we become dependent on certainty?
Some issues were of salvation-level significance. The issue of circumcision was a significant area of controversy in the early church. Paul got wind of a lack of clarity in Galatia. What did he do? He wrote to clarify things:
“Mark my words! I, Paul, tell you that if you let yourselves be circumcised, Christ will be of no value to you at all.” (Galatians 5:2 NIV11)
The Jerusalem Council — clarity done well
Not all clarity is controversial. The early church provides a model for how clarity can be sought and achieved in a way that honours God and strengthens the community. The issue in Acts 15 was significant: Gentiles are not getting circumcised. Jewish and Gentile Christians are arguing. The church is in danger of splitting. The mission of Jesus to the world could be over almost before it started. Confusion reigns regarding the relationship of Torah to the gospel and the relationship of the Old Covenant to the New.
What did the church do? They met to discuss the issue. Opposing parties were brought together in an atmosphere of trusted fellowship (Acts 15.4). Everyone was listened to: The party of the Pharisees, Apostles, Elders, Peter, Barnabas, James. Everyone was involved (’the whole church’, v 22). A minimalist, contextualised and temporary set of ‘rules’ were developed in conjunction with the Holy Spirit (”It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us…” v28).
The consequences? Gentile Christians need not be circumcised; the superiority of grace over law is affirmed; Jewish and Gentile Christians remain unified; the church is encouraged; the mission continues. That’s not to say that the same issue did not come up again. However, future conflicts could always look back to what happened in Jerusalem. A wonderful precedent was set, not just in its outcome, but in the way in which it was conducted. A collaborative, respectful, scripturally informed, time-consuming, God and people-focused clarity-conference glorified God, encouraged the church and fuelled the mission.
Certainty as Curse
To go back to Paul, he “…was convinced that I ought to do many things in opposing the name of Jesus of Nazareth.” (Acts 26.9) Yet in doing so, he opposed God. His sincerity did not make his certainty any less damaging for all that.
The Pharisees were certain of their own righteousness, Matthew 23; Luke 18.9–14; John 9.39–41. Their certainty made repentance ‘impossible’.
The rich ruler was certain of his moral/legal success (Mark 10.17–22). His certainty about his morality hid deeper spiritual deficiencies.
The Laodiceans were certain they were spiritually healthy (Revelation 3.14–19). However, Jesus’ assessment was that they were “wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.” Self-assessment is often inaccurate; Christ’s evaluation is what matters.
The Corinthian Christians were certain that their knowledge made them strong. However, they were weak in love – the quality God truly valued (1 Corinthians 8.1–2; 10.12). The certainty they held in the quality of their doctrinal knowledge was a barrier to growth. Confidence in knowledge can stunt spiritual maturity if love and humility are absent.
Certainty as Culture
In some churches, the solid foundations of faith have been extended — until the entire floor plan has become load-bearing. When everything is a foundation, nothing is. When certainty is cultural as an expectation, the consequences are unhealthy.
The extent to which we are self-certain about our certainties, ironically, drives us further and further into insecurity. Once we have decided that certainty about everything is necessary, then a quest for total certainty must be embarked upon. The problem with this approach is that the list is inexhaustible. In time, it leads to an exhausted Christian.
Guidelines tend to become rules. The practicalities that come out of the search for clarity can become pharisaical rules binding people to matters which are disputable, contextual, and temporary. The Pharisees were the clarity kings of Scripture. These rules may be used as tests of spirituality and membership and do nothing to help people grow spiritually. Clarity tends towards control.
Certainty addicts have such a strong attachment to their traditions that they create a kind of theological echo chamber, where their interpretations become inflexible, and they resist anything that challenges their worldview. As a result, spiritual growth is stultified. There is no room for curiosity because it is frowned upon as unhealthy questioning. Church members may be removed from areas of responsibility or even from membership, not because they have lost their faith in the foundations, but perhaps they have lost their faith in the relative value of opinion areas and traditions elevated to the same level as the true essentials of the faith.
The clarity trap — a worked example
Clarity is often sought by a leadership seeking a solution to a problem about which they have not asked the right question. Let me give you a hypothetical example that many leaders can relate to, including myself.
- The observed problem: Members are not consistently attending church meetings.
- The proposed solution: Make it clear that attendance at meetings is a requirement of membership (expressed as a sign of healthy spirituality).
- The clarity procedure: Bring up the problem at church meetings and in conversations. Teach and preach on the importance of assembling. Use Scripture to create conviction leading to repentance. Associate the Scriptures regarding collective worship with the meetings of the local fellowship as mandated by the leadership. Remind the members that their leaders have authority to decide the type and frequency of the meetings necessary for the health of the local congregation. Indicate that failure to attend those meetings is to reject the authority of the leaders — who God has put in place. Make it clear that rebellion against the leadership will not be tolerated and lack of attendance at the meetings indicates a proud heart. Such a person, if their behaviour does not change, will not be permitted to remain on the membership.
- The clarity consequences: The leaders feel good because they have created clarity and used Scripture to do so. The ‘proud’/’uncommitted’ people either decide not to be members or are told they cannot be. The church has been purified by the application of clarity. Additionally, those people who are not biblically educated enough to notice the way the leadership has misinterpreted (at best), or manipulated (at worst) the Scriptures, or who find the style of leadership attractive, feel encouraged because they see their leaders as strong and helping the church to stay pure. They are sad that their friends have left, but believe it’s better for them to have done so because now they can repent. Surely now God will bless the church.
- The future: The church will tend to attract people who like this approach to leadership. All will appear to be well in the church until the same issue comes up again and the process repeats.
What is wrong with this picture? The wrong question. The question should not be, “How can we get everybody to come to the meetings?” The question should be, “Whyare people not coming to the meetings?” No attempt at forced clarity will solve the realquestion. If you start with the wrong question, you will get the wrong answer.
Why clarity-as-goal is dangerous
Although in itself neutral, clarity becomes problematic as a goal. When clarity is the focus, everything else is measured against whether it is enhancing or compromising clarity. The search for truth, love and the heart of God become harder. Is it about the people, or the process of finding clarity? People are not a process, nor do they fit into neat boxes.
A search for clarity may mask the true challenge. Clarity might be achieved, but has the real issue been surfaced and resolved? And when clarity begets practicalities, those practical out-workings should always be contextualised and temporary, but are often applied beyond the initial context and become permanent. It is easily forgotten that the only thing permanent in this life are the Scriptures. Church history reveals how often lip-service is paid to the permanence of Scripture and impermanence of tradition.
When clarity is the goal, people and God get second billing. The desired clarity may be achieved, and the practical outworking agreed by the leadership, but what is it that ends up being honoured? What takes prominence? Is it Scripture? Do we have a better picture of God’s beautiful, profound, pure heart?
Romans 14-15 and disputable matters
What are “disputable matters”? Brian Rosner defines them as issues Christians are free to disagree about and are not matters of first importance.[4]
In Romans 14 and 15, Paul addresses issues concerning Jewish diet and calendar. Hardly unimportant. Potentially divisive. But not on the same level of significance as the foundations of the faith. Read and compare the way that Paul treats the issues in these chapters with how he speaks of the foundational matters in 1 Corinthians 15.
Three helpful questions
How do we distinguish between the faith foundations (1 Corinthians 15) and the important but not critical questions? Consider these three questions:
- Is this a matter on which the early church placed “of first importance” weight?
- Does denial of this remove the person from the Christian faith entirely?
- Would the apostles have recognized this as a hill to die on?
Try using this filter. On the other hand, you might like the “hate, hold, love” framework below.
The Clear-Enough God
When God decides it is important to be clear, he leaves no doubt as to his intentions. I have been reading through the major prophets recently. God is abundantly clear as to his love for his people, his pain over their rebellion, and the consequences for them going into exile.
However, Scripture is littered with people who asked questions of God and either received no answer, or answers which were not up to the clarity level they were hoping for. Why did God permit Stephen’s murder in Acts 7? The church are not told, but they trust God, keep calm and carry on (Acts 8). Peter is given less than complete information when the Spirit tells him to go to Cornelius’s house. He goes in faith (Acts 10). Paul’s vision that took him into Macedonia was of a man begging him to come. When he arrives there who does he find? Lydia. A woman (Acts 16). To be a disciple in the first century was to be in a frequent state of confusion. The early church found the Spirit unpredictable. He was significantly less than clear much of the time. God moves in mysterious ways that are often unclear.
‘The key, then, to loving God is to see Jesus, to hold him before the mind with as much fullness and clarity as possible. It is to adore him.’ The Good and Beautiful God, James Bryan Smith.
Hate, hold and love
In his excellent Renovare newsletter article, Brian Morykon suggests that an exposition of Romans 12.9-21 may help us handle certainty constructively.[5] Paul offers three imperatives at the beginning of the section that shape all the other instructions.
Hate
“hate what is evil”, Romans 12.9.
“What is evil” does not describe the many disputable matters. Paul has in mind those beliefs, attitudes, and behaviours that stand in direct and hostile opposition to the ministry of Christ and his Spirit. The next time you find yourself in an escalating dispute with another believer over a spiritual issue, stop for a moment, pray, and ask yourself whether you are dealing with an issue of evil — or not.
Hold
“hold fast to what is good”, Romans 12.9.
When we “cling to what is good”, our hands are fastened on the things that really matter and do not have an opportunity to stray into unimportant areas. When our focus is on doing good, like Jesus (Acts 10.38), we find ourselves less inclined to argue over disputable matters.
Love
“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection;” Romans 12.9-10
Love brackets the instructions to hate and to hold. Why might that be?
Paul encourages the Roman Christians to adopt a measure of certainty. They need confidence in being able to identify evil and good in order to hate the one and hold fast to the other. Christians must have solid convictions, or they have nowhere to stand and are no true disciples. Uncertainty is not the goal. Unregulated uncertainty on our part leaves us unable to love people, because we cannot protect them from evil or help them embrace and enjoy what is good.
However, certainty has its limits. Unregulated certainty on our behalf distances us from people. It morphs into judgmentalism, Pharisaism and conditionalism.
Therefore, love is vital and primary. Prioritising love reminds us that our opinions and the strength with which those opinions are expressed affect individuals and our faith community. Love causes us to consider the person and the group ahead of our ideas. When love is our highest value, we weigh our ‘certainties’ against it. Before speaking, we ask ourselves, “Is it loving to say this?” “Is it loving to express my opinion on this topic?” Perhaps it is. It may be so. But, love-focused people pause before posting their certainties. Not because they are afraid of offending people (Jesus did plenty of that), but because they do not wish to be harsh, unkind or unloving.
Some things must be hated, but all people must be loved.
Objection
“But doesn’t the Bible say we should be certain?” Yes. On some things we should be certain. We should be, and can be, supremely confident of many things. Paul wrote, “I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day.” (2 Timothy 1:12) and “We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:5). There is a strong biblical tradition of confident conviction.
However, confidence about the right things is different from confidence about everything.
Wrap
Earlier I asked whether certainty is a cure or a curse. The answer, I think, is that it is both — and the difference between the two lies not in the strength of our confidence but in its object and its fruit.
Certainty about the things of first importance — that Christ died for our sins, rose again, and is Lord — is a solid rock on which to stand. Certainty about everything else is a burden we were never asked to carry, and it suffocates the trust on which a living relationship with God and with one another depends.
So let me leave you with a question: Which certainties in your life are foundations, and which are merely opinions wearing foundations’ clothes? And are the things you are sure about producing love, or are they slowly hardening into the very thing they were meant to guard against?
What are your thoughts on this topic? I’d love to hear from you.
Your brother, Malcolm
- Read the Psalms, and you will discover plenteous examples of the authors arguing, pleading, lamenting, questioning and petitioning God regarding the uncertainties of their faith.↩︎
- ↩︎
- Heretics (1905)↩︎
- You may find this video by Brian Rosner helpful (author of Mending a Fractured Church): (https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/j0p2R31NCts?rel=0&autoplay=0&showinfo=0&enablejsapi=0
- )↩︎
