If you have read the gospels, you are surely familiar with a disciple of Yeshua named “Thomas Didymus,” sometimes referred to as “Doubting Thomas.” Recall that when Thomas had first heard the testimony of the other disciples that Yeshua was raised from the dead, he was apprehensive and vowed to suspend his judgment until he had sufficient evidence to believe the matter for himself: “Unless I see the wounds from the nails in his hands, and put my finger into the wounds from the nails, and put my hand into his side,” he said, “I will never believe it!” (John 20:25). You know the rest of the story. When Yeshua later appeared to the disciples and this time Thomas was present, he said to him: “Put your finger here, and examine my hands. Extend your hand and put it into my side. Do not be become faithless, but believe” (John 20:27).
You might think this lesson should be obvious enough for us: “Don’t doubt, but believe; don’t harden your heart; don’t withhold your hope; don’t trust in human reason more than the testimony of faith; in other words, don’t act like Thomas did! And yet today it has become fashionable to “celebrate doubt” and to “deconstruct” the testimony of our fathers. Instead of venerating the Scriptures that tell of the ordained plan of God to send Yeshua to die for our sins (Gen. 3:15; Isa. 53:1-12; John 3:16; Acts 3:18; 1 Pet. 1:20; Heb. 1:1-3), false teachers have arisen to “tickle the ears” of those who do not want to believe: “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths” (2 Tim. 4:3-4). This is that time, friends. Instead of abhorring doubt as the sin against faith, people are now encouraged to question everything they thought they knew about God, truth, life, and death – to break free from their theological biases – so that their minds will be opened and their hearts set free from hidebound and “coercive” ways of understanding. Today’s “Christian skeptics” deny the authority of the Word of God, reject the Biblical narrative that tells the gospel message about the meaning of life, and are generally skeptical regarding the possibility of doing theology at all. It is not what the Bible says that is important, they say, but how you read it that makes the difference. The Bible is more about you than anything else! Affecting humility and sincerity, these dissembling skeptics say that asking critical questions, challenging traditional assumptions, and disdaining “doctrines of dogmatism” constitute an improved way of living the Christian life.
Now while it is true that we should be honest in our convictions and humble of heart, the way of Messiah is not one that “suspends” judgment (epochē) regarding matters of knowledge and truth (John 17:3). The starting point of faith is not the “I doubt, therefore I am” of the philosophers, but rather “I am loved, therefore I am” of the LORD. Philosophical (or rational) reflection approximates the truth of faith but is always at a remove from what faith really is all about, namely, a passionate inner conviction of what is most real. “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your being” is the antithesis of tentative reasoning that dispassionately withholds judgment in the reality of love.
The epistemology of Yeshua centers on trusting God by means of the heart. As you believe, so you will know: “When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he” (John 8:28). Doubt, on the other hand, steps back from faith by attempting to “understand” it. Paradoxically, the attempt to understand by means of answering doubt’s questions leads to second-order questions and doubts, and so on, ad infinitum, so that the “way of reason” becomes vertiginous, unstable, uncertain, and ultimately nihilistic. An attitude of skepticism is both unstable and “unlivewithable,” a sickness of the spirit that has no ground of being.
Indeed the epistemology of the postmodern world is notorious for failing to explain anything of substantive meaning. Everything is left unexplained; no narrative is permitted (except the narrative that there is no narrative, of course); no logical connections to a “real world” are sound; there is no “story” to our lives, and therefore postmodernism entirely misses the essential point of everything. As such, it is a form of nihilism. And it is also a form of sophistry. It is one thing, after all, to affect philosophical sagacity, but that’s a “rich man’s game,” played in places of comfort, ease, and the luxury of speculative indulgences. The message of the gospel, however, is for the poor in spirit, for the heavy laden, the downcast, the hurting, and the lost. And since it does nothing to feed the ego by flattering itself, the gospel is invariably despised by the rich of this world….
It’s been said that there are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn’t true; the other is to refuse to believe what is… Doubt is a type of fear, a cautionary or “protective attitude” that deems it better to refrain from believing what may be untrue than to believe what may be true. For the doubter, the risk of being wrong outweighs any benefit of being right, and therefore the skeptic lives “suspended in midair.”
The life of faith, however, is decisive, a matter of the will, and therefore God commands us to trust, obey, and to know the truth. The Lord calls out to us in the storm saying, “Take heart. It is I; be not afraid” (Matt. 14:27). When Peter answered the call and attempted to walk across the stormy waters, he lost courage and began to sink, but Yeshua immediately took hold of him, saying, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt (lit., think twice)?” Faith is “lived forward” in assurance and unwavering conviction of God’s reality and blessing. “But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him” (Heb. 11:6). A doubting heart cannot please God because God is known in relationship, but questioning God’s love – drawing near and then stepping back – makes genuine relationship impossible. If we are ambivalent in our resolve to believe, regardless of whatever we may wager to hope, we will be unable to stand still long enough to receive the blessing!
In our Torah portion for this week, 
The Torah of Moses teaches that a defect-free male lamb must be sacrificed and roasted at the appointed time every year, eaten with matzah and bitter herbs, as a memorial of the redemption from Egypt (Num. 9:2, Deut. 16:1-8) — yet today, after the ministry and sacrificial death of Yeshua as the Lamb of God, we no longer perform the sacrificial rite of the Passover given to the Levites on behalf of Israel. We do not offer a lamb for sacrifice not because there is no Temple to offer such sacrifices, but because we have a greater priesthood based on the sworn oath of God that predates the Levitical priesthood in the life of the Messiah (Psalm 110:4). This is explained in the Book of Hebrews, chapter seven, which explains that “if perfection had been attainable through the Levitical priesthood (for under it the people received the law), what further need would there have been for another priest to arise after the order of Melchizedek, rather than one named after the order of Aaron? But when there is a change in the priesthood, there is necessarily a change in the law as well” (Heb. 7:11-12). The bottom line is that the promised new covenant (בּרית חדשׁה) of God centers on the sacrificial ministry of Yeshua as our Great High Priest, and this covenant provides a new way – “not according to the covenant made with the fathers at Sinai after the Exodus” – to be in right relationship with God (Jer. 31:31-34; Heb. 8:1-13). “And when Messiah had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. For by one offering He has perfected forever those being sanctified” (Heb. 10:14).
To be a human being is a paradox, caught between the realms of the infinite and nothingness; a union of endless possibility yet terminating limitation. Man desires to live forever but is conscious that one day he will die. He is an incongruity – a mix of flesh and spirit, saint and sinner, good and evil, angel and animal… A spirituality that demands for us to be always happy, always “up,” is therefore dishonest, since the truth is grounded in what is real, and that includes both the miserable and the tragic as well as the joyful and sublime. It’s not that there is no difference between good and evil within the heart, but both are part of who we really are. It is the bittersweet struggle, the process of walking as “saintly sinners,” “holy fools,” “dying immortals,” and so on, that defines us. We must embrace our brokenness, in order to become whole; there is no healing without true confession of our need. Therefore we come to the paradoxical cross – the place of utter pain, separation, and death – to find healing, acceptance and life.
C.S. Lewis once made the helpful distinction between “looking at” and “looking along” a sunbeam (Lewis: “Meditation in a Tool Shed,” 1945). In the former case the mind looks “at” the beam itself, from a supposedly “transcendental” perspective, as if it could objectively describe the thing in descriptive terms, as a “fact” or by reducing the phenomena to simpler, more “natural” terms (e.g., defining light as waves or particles or energy). In the latter case, the mind see “along” the beam in relationship with it, seeing by its means, as part of his horizon of experience, not focusing on it (as a fact) but experiencing other things through its agency, and interpreting them in a semantic world of interrelated meanings. Now Lewis’ point was that modern scientific humanism assumes it provides a “truer” interpretation of experience by looking “at” things, as for example, when it “reduces” (i.e., explains away) religious experience as a matter of genetics, sociology, psychology, or some other “natural” paradigm. Of course such a presupposition is without real warrant, since “looking at” something involves its own way of “looking along” the axis of assumptions hidden within its own methodology…. In short, there is no true “looking at” things as an independent observer, since everyone is affected by their own biases and assumptions they bring to experience. Such awareness should instill within every soul a deep sense of humility. Nevertheless, in questions of faith we are both look at and look along the contours of life to make inferences to the best explanation, and therefore as Lewis succinctly said, “ ‘I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.’ We (all of us) walk by faith, not by sight, and the only real question is what direction are we looking…
“The fear of the LORD is the first principle of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and correction” (Prov. 1:7). In this “Daily Dvar” broadcast (see audio below) I discuss how reverence or respect is axiomatic for a genuinely good life. Fearing God expresses the confidence that life is a sacred trust and that each soul is answerable to the Creator. Such godly reverence infers that nothing is trivial or inconsequential, and that all things will be accounted before the bar of divine truth. I hope you will find it helpful, friends.
The theology of our Messiah insists that truth matters, and that knowing the truth about God is absolutely essential for life itself. Nothing is more important; nothing is more vital. As Yeshua solemnly affirmed: “This is eternal life (חַיֵּי עוֹלָם), that they may know you, the only true God (אֶל־אֱמֶת), and Yeshua the Messiah (יֵשׁוּעַ הַמָּשִׁיחַ) whom you have sent (John 17:3). Note that the Hebrew word for knowledge is da’at (דַּעַת), a word that implies intimate cognitive differentiation and the apprehension of spiritual reality. Your life is a venture of faith, an irrepeatable, infinitely costly venture.
The message of the cross of Messiah is that your deepest need for love, peace, and happiness is not to be found in this world, nor in the religious philosophies of this world, but instead is found by being healed from the sickness of spiritual death. That’s the gospel message, after all, which presents an offense to the “flesh,” that is, to natural human pride and humanistic aspiration. Indeed many religious people seem to think that something more is needed than the miracle of Messiah, and they therefore both underestimate the severity of our lost condition while flattering the ego with the conceit that it can contribute something to prospect of genuine eternal life… The Apostle Paul admonished: “If with the Messiah you died to the axioms of this world, why, as though you still belonged to the world, do you submit to its presuppositions (i.e., δόγματα)?” (Col. 2:20). Religious “legalism” (i.e., adherence to formula or ritual rather than living in personal faith) is a worldly practice that leads to a false sense of security in the mantras, ceremonies, “virtue signaling,” theological jargon, and various “mummeries” of religion. Worse still may such worldly religion lead to a “holier-than-thou” sense of spiritual superiority or elitism. Yeshua denounced the religionists of his day by focusing on what mattered most of all — healing the outcasts, touching the lepers, seeking the lost, and being a “friend of tax collectors and sinners” (Matt. 11:19). Focusing on outer forms of religion — even Torah based religion — elevates the law to an end in itself rather than as a means to the greater end of love and healing. We have to be careful not to make an idol out of religious practices, for all the commandments are meant to serve the end of receiving God’s love and sharing that blessing with others. Any “Torah observance” that leads you to “thank God that you are not like other people” (Luke 18:11) is therefore not genuine Torah observance at all, for the heart of the Torah is love, just as love is the Torah of the Gospel (John 15:12).
“Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you” (Psalm 73:25). Such is the “exile of hope” we suffer in this world… Torah begins: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, and the earth was “tohu va’vohu v’choshekh” (תהוּ וָבהוּ וְחשֶׁךְ) – confusion and emptiness and darkness – which the sages interpret to mean that when we truly understand that God created the heavens and the earth, we will realize our earthy desires to be barren, empty and unreal.
