The origin of doubt.
In the first place, WE ARE BORN QUESTIONERS. Look at the wonderment
of a little child in its eyes before it can speak. The child's
great word when it begins to speak is, "Why?" Every child is full
of every kind of question, about every kind of thing, that moves,
and shines and changes, in the little world in which it lives.
That is the incipient doubt in the nature of man. Respect doubt
for its origin. It is an inevitable thing. It is not a thing to
be crushed. It is a part of man as God made him. Heresy is truth
in the making, and doubt is the prelude of knowledge.
Secondly: THE WORLD IS A SPHINX. It is a vast riddle--an unfathomable
mystery; and on every side there is temptation to questioning.
In every leaf, in every cell of every leaf, there are a hundred
problems. There are ten good years of a man's life in investigating
what is in a leaf. God has planned the world to incite men to
intellectual activity.
Thirdly: THE INSTRUMENT WITH WHCIH WE ATTEMPT TO INVESTIGATE TRUTH
IS IMPAIRED. Some say it fell, and the glass is broken. Some
say prejudice, heredity, or sin, have spoiled its sight, and have
blinded our eyes and deadened our ears. In any case the instruments
with which we work upon truth, even in the strongest men, are feeble
and inadequate to their tremendous task.
And in the fourth place, ALL RELIGIOUS TRUTHS ARE DOUBTABLE. There
is no absolute truth for any one of them. Even that fundamental
truth--the existence of a God--no man can prove by reason. The
ordinary proof for the existence of a God involves either an
assumption, argument in a circle, or a contradiction. The impression
of God is kept up by experience, not by logic. And hence, when
the experimental religion of a man, of a community, or of a nation
wanes, religion wanes--their idea of God grows indistinct, and that
man, community or nation becomes infidel.
Bear in mind, then, that all religious truths are doubtable--even
those which we hold most strongly.
What does this brief account of the origin of doubt teach us? It
teaches us
Great intellectual humility.
It teaches us sympathy and toleration with all men who venture upon
the ocean of truth to find out a path through it for themselves.
Do you sometimes feel yourself thinking unkind things about your
fellow-students who have intellectual difficulty? I know how hard
it is always to feel sympathy and toleration for them; but we must
address ourselves to that most carefully and most religiously. If
my brother is short-sighted I must not abuse him or speak against
him; I must pity him, and if possible try to improve his sight, or
to make things that he is to look at so bright that he cannot help
seeing. But never let us think evil of men who do not see as we
do. From the bottom of our hearts let us pity them, and let us take
them by the hand and spend time and thought over them, and try to
lead them to the true light.