"I Have More Doubt Than Faith"

All right, Porch. How are we doing? Are we doing okay? It's good to see you. Welcome back. Week two. It has been an amazing night already. I'm really looking forward to where we're going this evening, and I'm really glad you're here for it. Genuinely, I believe this every week, yet there's something in my soul tonight that thinks God has something special in store.

Before we get going, it wouldn't be a typical Tuesday or a regular night at The Porch if we didn't say "Hey" to some special friends who are tuning in with us online. So, special shout-out to all of our Porch.Live locations that are tuning in with us wherever it is you are. Would y'all put your hands together for Porch.Live? We love the Porch.Live. Special shout-out to Porch.Live Wheaton, Fort Worth, and Fresno.

I love the fact that God is not just doing something here; he is doing something in other places as well, and we're a part of it. Sometimes we can get trapped in our moment here in Dallas and think that God is really working here, but what we need to know is we're a part of a greater movement, which is happening all over… Really, it's happening all over the world, and it's an incredible gift that we get to be a part of.

So, I love the fact that we're here. I'm really excited for tonight. To set things up, I'd love to start with a quick story, and I'd like to try to help out some of my brothers in the room and do you a solid in the event that no one ever has. If you're a guy in the room, I just want to look at you and tell you straight up that the minute a woman enters your world, it's going to fundamentally flip upside down. Everything is going to change for you. I know this was my experience.

When Brooke and I got married, I was 25 years old, meaning, I had a quarter century of life under my belt by this point. I felt pretty confident in my ability to navigate the ways of paying my bills and getting my groceries and providing for my needs. I wasn't super settled in my ways, but I was comfortable. I felt really good, really confident about the way I was walking through the world, navigating my reality…that is, until we eventually moved in together.

You see, before we did, Brooke and I went in and got an apartment. She moved in first. I waited until we said the "I dos," and then we came together, but she moved in first because she wanted to "nest." Ladies like to take a house and make it into a home, which I was great with until I realized upon moving in she wasn't just making a house into a home; she was actually going to take a simple man and make him into a family man.

When I moved in after we got married, I learned the dryer was not a suitable place to store my clothing. Guys, anybody willing to admit that's what you do? Your clothes are sitting in the dryer at this moment. Don't do it. It's not going to work for her, because she's going to want it all folded and hung up and sorted appropriately.

I realized pretty early on that my meals couldn't simply consist of the chicken and rice I had prepped the week before. Tupperware wasn't suitable serving-ware. Instead, we were going to follow whatever recipe Half Baked Harvest had recommended at that time. I don't know about you, but I know, for myself, my "Come and take it" flag was sufficient décor to be pinned on my wall. Any guys with some flags hung in their apartments or townhomes or bedrooms right now? It's not suitable décor.

When you get married and move in, she's going to want to frame photographs and hang artwork, because she is going to try to make you into more than you are right now. She's going to want to make you into a family man. You see, I felt like the minute she and I got married, everything changed for me. My whole way of thinking was confronted to the core. My whole way of feeling was called out and called up. My way of doing was challenged forever.

Now, if you asked me, "Kylen, do you regret it?" I would say, "No." I actually recommend marriage. I think it's pretty great. You see, I realized there were some old ways of doing things I needed to unlearn, yet there were some new and better ways of doing things I needed to learn instead.

Now, why do I tell you all that? Because some of you are here tonight, and if you're honest, you feel like this is your current state of circumstance. You're not trying to figure out how you should behave at home; you're trying to figure out what you should believe at heart. Some of us feel like our old way of doing things, spiritually, is no longer working, so we're wondering if there's a better way of doing things instead.

If that's you, then I'm really grateful you're here and excited to tell you that this series is meant for you, because over the course of the next five weeks, we want to help rebuild your spiritual reality. We want to reboot your belief. We want to help you reconstruct whatever it feels like is deconstructed. It's not because we're just trying to generate some clickbait, to pick a subject that's going to have a lot of hype. It's really because we want to be helpful.

We know this idea of deconstruction is massively widespread within our generation, so we want to attack it head-on. In order for us to do that, we have to set a really firm foundation, because you can't construct something unless you have a good basis to build on. It makes me think of several years ago when I was at the beach with my niece. She wanted to build a sandcastle, which I was all about. That sounded like a great time.

So she pulled out her sand tools and her sand toys and her castle cups, and we started packing sand into those things. She turned them over and set them down, and she realized every time she flipped the cup, the structure was not standing. She didn't know she should clear the sand and level a foundation.

That's what we have to do. Before we get into this idea of deconstructing and evaluating how we rebuild our reality, we have to lay a good foundation to build on, which is what we're going to do tonight. So, where do we start? What's the right place to begin in the work of rebuilding reality? I think we need to establish a really good working definition for deconstruction.

I don't know about you, but in my world, as I've done research, I've found people fall in all manner of different places when it comes to this topic. Some people look at deconstruction, and they treat it as more of an intellectual renovation of sorts. Like, you take one thing from your life, and you're just trying to freshen it up a little bit. Other people look at deconstruction, and it's synonymous with disenchantment. Like, "I used to believe that, but, man, it's not really working for me anymore."

Others look at deconstruction and equate it to demolition. "I'm not just trying to overhaul a couple of things with respect to my faith; I'm trying to blow everything up with respect to my faith." People fall all over the grid with respect to their understanding of deconstruction, and I'm sure that's the case for some of us here tonight. The reason for that is deconstruction is notoriously difficult to understand if you actually go back to its origin.

I don't know if you knew this, but deconstruction is not a new thing. It actually was created by a French philosopher named Jacques Derrida in the 1960s. He was a young adult himself, and he created this concept that even he was unwilling to summarize when asked how to explain it, because it is annoyingly nuanced. (Just take my word for it. If you want more information, you can come talk to me down at the front at the end of our service.)

Yet, because we're going to be spending the next five weeks on this, we need to come up with some kind of definition, so I have done the hard work of figuring out a definition that will work for us. Are you ready for it? It's nothing original to me. It was actually quoted by a guy named Brian Zahnd in his book When Everything's On Fire.

He said deconstruction is "A crisis of faith that leads to either a reevaluation of Christianity or sometimes a total abandonment of Christianity." Meaning, the process of deconstruction doesn't begin with dismantling your belief; the process of deconstruction begins with doubting your belief. That's the precursor. That's where things have to begin. The reality is most people who say, "I'm deconstructing" are really just wrestling with doubt. So, that's what I want us to talk about tonight.

Often, when we hear the idea of doubt when it comes to the faith, we assume that means a really bad thing, yet I actually think within doubt there's a really great opportunity. Let me explain it to you like this. When Brooke and I were in the market to buy a house after first moving here to Dallas, we knew we wanted to buy a place that needed some renovations. We knew it. We wanted to invest in a property and increase its value. So, as we searched the market, we knew we needed to find a place that required some renovation.

Now, when we bought our house, the house we bought fit the bill. It needed to be updated. Do you think we walked in and just started swinging hammers all over the place? No. That would have been very bad, because as we did a careful evaluation of the property, we realized, "Man, there are certain things here that are in great shape, but there are other things here that do require attention."

Upon inspection, there were certain things that inspired our confidence to leave them as is, but there were other things that, upon inspection, inspired our concern that needed to be addressed. That's how we have to approach our faith. We have to consider, as we carefully evaluate, what areas of our faith are great as they are…we don't need to touch them in the slightest…yet what other areas may feel somewhat out of date, behind the times, as if we've potentially outgrown them.

The beautiful thing about doubt is it's not a sign that Christianity is flawed. Doubt is a sign that our understanding of Christianity is flawed. If you're here and you're wrestling with doubt, it's not an issue with Christ; it's an issue in your understanding of who Christ is, which is actually really encouraging news, because it means God is just as unsearchable, just as unfathomable, and just as uncontainable as he claims he is.

If God, the Almighty, was able to be pinned down by you when you were in your teenage years, is that a God worth following? No. No one here is rocking Nike Elites and Sperrys tonight, I wouldn't guess. The reason is you've likely outgrown them. With that said, does that mean you've outgrown the need for shoes? No. I'd guess that your shoe game is at its very best right now. The same has to happen when it comes to our faith. We have to be willing to look at our doubts and not allow them to lead us farther from God but farther into God.

So, I'm really excited, because some of you are here, and you're wrestling, yet God is like, "Oh, baby. We're about to go deep. I'm about to take you to a new level of understanding. I'm about to take you to a new place of faith. I'm about to stir up something new in your spirit. Are you ready?" That's what God wants to do. That's his heart.

A.J. Swoboda, in his book After Doubt, said it like this. "There's often no greater act of faith and fidelity to God than baring one's deepest held beliefs to divine criticism so that God might be loved more. To put it more simply: kicking the tires doesn't mean you hate the car." You see, doubt is not the enemy of your affections for God; doubt is the opportunity to love God more, to find answers that not only satisfy your questions but satisfy your soul.

That's what I want to talk to you about tonight. In order for us to do it, we're going to look at a passage in the gospel of Luke. I want to set up some context that I think will be helpful to you. This idea of deconstruction is not an idea that is new to Jesus. It's something he actually dealt with repeatedly over the course of his ministry and cared a great deal about.

When we come to this passage in Luke, chapter 24, we need to know Jesus is right on the heels of his resurrection, yet he has not yet gone to the Father. He has not yet ascended back to heaven. All throughout this 40-day window he has between the resurrection and the ascension, Jesus keeps making special guest appearances all across the Holy Land. He makes cameos in the most unlikely of places.

If you and I were him, what would we likely do? We'd probably show up and rebuke the religious elite. "Hey, you guys, what were you thinking?" We would probably show up and confront the Romans. "You crucified me, man. What were you thinking?" Jesus doesn't do that. He doesn't go to the religious elite. He doesn't go to the Romans.

Instead, Jesus pursues the doubtful. That's his mission in this 40-day window. It's to restore the faith of the fainthearted. He goes to Mary. He comes to Thomas. He restores Peter. He appears in the upper room. Right here, he walks with two disciples down a road to Emmaus. It says this in Luke 24, picking up in verse 13:

"That very day two of them were going to a village named Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and they were talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them. But their eyes were kept from recognizing him.

And he said to them, 'What is this conversation that you are holding with each other as you walk?' And they stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, named Cleopas, answered him, 'Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?' And he said to them, 'What things?'

And they said to him, 'Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, a man who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things happened.'"

That comment at the end, "It's now the third day," means they're at a moment of incredible discouragement, because it was the point at which the Jewish mind thought the soul would leave the body upon death…day three. It's interesting. Whenever you read the resurrection appearances of Jesus at the end of the Gospels, you find he not only repeatedly appears to people, but he constantly conceals his identity. He has a flair for the dramatic. He likes a grand entrance.

We find that three different times, he conceals his identity. He comes to Mary, and he presents himself as a gardener. He comes to Peter and the seven disciples, and he looks like a man sitting on shore beside the fire. In this moment, he looks like a fellow wanderer to both Cleopas and his companion on the road to Emmaus.

It begs the question…Why? Why does Jesus conceal his identity in these moments? Well, scholars have a variety of different answers, yet no one knows for sure. Some scholars look at it and say this is going to be the method of Jesus' primary ministry once he ascends to heaven. It's going to be communicated through common men, so he wants to be a common man who is communicating to other common men. That's why he conceals his identity.

Other people look at it and say it's because of the disbelief of those he's appearing to. He's looking at them, and they cannot see him for who he is because they don't believe completely. Others say he is supernaturally concealing his identity. He's throwing up a spiritual mask to conceal himself from these others. Others look at him and say it's just a physical obstruction. He's too far away. They can't make out the details of his face.

We don't know why he conceals his identity, ultimately, yet, as I peeled through these pages and pored over in study, I think I arrived at a hunch that's pretty unique. I think Jesus conceals his identity repeatedly in these moments because he wants to engage with people at the level of their rawest emotion. That's what you see.

Jesus conceals his identity and comes to Mary, and he sees that she's sorrowful. He conceals his identity and comes to Peter, and he sees that he's shameful. He conceals his identity and comes to these two guys, and he sees that they're disappointed. By way of him hiding who he is, we can see who they are. He wants to engage people at an emotional level. So much so that it says in this passage they stood still, looking sad, because they had hoped he was the one to redeem Israel.

Because he didn't live up to that expectation, according to their estimation, they are walking away from him entirely. Their doubt has descended to such a place that they're bailing on this whole way of Christ altogether. Yet, Jesus comes to them, and he reveals to us the very first thing he does is he restores the doubtful. Jesus walks with those who are walking away. That's the first way he pursues those downcast in doubt.

These guys are sad. They're disappointed. They're probably headed to Emmaus for a little bit of self-care. The city was known for being a place of natural hot springs, so they think that would probably be nice after everything they've lived through. What we know is because they're on the way to Emmaus, they are not huddled with the other disciples in the upper room. They're not gathered with the women by the tomb. They're not even hiding in Jerusalem, waiting for some new development in the story. No, they have given up. They are walking away.

They have chosen to move on with their lives. While it would be easy for us, on this side of the cross, to look at them and shake our heads and wag our fingers ("How dare you guys?"), we do this ourselves. We walk away from Jesus for all sorts of different reasons, even good reasons. Some of us walk away from the faith because we've been hurt by the church. Others of us walk away because we've been slandered and belittled by other Christians.

We walk away from the church because we look at the pulpit and think it has become a place of political theater over the course of the last two election cycles and eight years all together. We walk away from the church because, "God claims to be good, yet he let me down. He didn't show up when I needed him most." We walk away from the church because, "There are other truth claims out there that seem to make better sense of my reality, that seem to help explain my experience."

We all have our reasons for walking away, even good reasons for doing so, yet Jesus is anything but reasonable. That's what Paul says in Romans, chapter 5. He says, "For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die…" Do you hear Paul reasoning? "…but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

He does the most unreasonable thing. He loves his enemies and forgives his adversaries and gives of himself without any expectation of anything in return. He dies a death he does not deserve. He rises from the grave. Who does that? He tells us, "Hey, seek after me" when none of us are worthy of seeking after him, and ultimately, he walks with us when we walk away from him. This is who our Jesus is.

So let me ask you. If you're here tonight, and you're doubting Jesus, then what are you walking toward? They're not just walking away from Jerusalem and all the doubt and disappointment that was there behind them; they are walking toward Emmaus. It begs the question for us…Where is it that we're walking? Where are you going? Are you walking toward romance? Are you walking toward success, comfort, power, approval, or money? What is it you're walking toward?

I don't ask you that because I want to shame you with respect to where you're walking. I ask you that because wherever it is you're walking, there it is that Jesus is going to find you. He meets them on this road, and he will meet you on whatever road you're walking, not because he wants you to get there but because he wants to get you back to him. That's what he's going to do. He walks with those who are walking away. But it's not just that. He's good company. He talks along the way as well, which is what we read if we keep going. Verses 22-27:

"'Moreover, some women of our company amazed us. They were at the tomb early in the morning, and when they did not find his body, they came back saying that they had even seen a vision of angels, who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see.'

And he said to them, 'O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?' And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself."

When Jesus happens upon these two disciples, it says in verse 15 that he sees them talking and discussing, which to us, as we read it in English, just feels like they're a couple of "Chatty Cathys." It just feels like these are synonymous verbs to describe the fact that they are in some sort of intense dialogue. Yet, when you read it in the original language, you see that they are talking and debating. That's what they're doing.

Why do we debate? Because we don't agree with one another. You see, conflict is always preceded by confusion, some misunderstanding. It is into their conflict that Jesus enters. The reason for it is, as he comes to us in our doubt, Jesus repeatedly seeks to calm our confusion with his Word. I love that Jesus doesn't jump straight to fixing their problems.

He doesn't interject in their conversation. He doesn't correct their misunderstandings. He doesn't direct them, "Hey, guys. Y'all better get back to Jerusalem." Instead, he chooses to do something the church fails to do so very often. He creates conversational space for curiosity and perplexity and even uncertainty, because Jesus knows that when it comes to spiritual matters, doubts and questions are an inevitable part of the process.

Let me speak to the believer in the room for a moment. If our churches look, talk, act, and believe in the same way, then we are not as welcoming to the watching world as we think we are. We have to cultivate spaces where we find not only the right answers given but see the real questions asked, where skeptics, critics, misfits, and outcasts can come and honestly process, sincerely seek, and hopefully find the same Jesus who found us. That's what we have to do.

I remember my freshman year, probably a similar experience to some of you if you were there at 18 or 19 in your first year of college. It was the first year that I found my greatest singular season of spiritually seeking. For the first time in my life, nobody was forcing me to go to church. Nobody was looking at me and pressuring me to go to Bible study. Nobody was coercing me with pizza and video games to go to youth group on Wednesday night. I could choose to do what I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted. It was totally up to me.

Despite the fact that I had unlimited freedom, I still had this massive curiosity about Christianity. There were some things, for sure, that I had questions about. "I don't know, man." Yet there were other things within the faith I had a real interest in, I found a fascination with. As I was navigating the complex waters of Christianity (because they are complex waters), I was so fortunate to have an older friend of mine spend hours with me at a coffee shop, not driving the conversation but just clarifying my questions, just helping me along the way.

That's what Jesus does with the disciples in this story. He welcomes them where they are. He doesn't narrow their discipleship to a strict set of doctrinal distinctives that double as a source of tribal identity and pride. He listens to them. He walks with them. Eventually, he does speak to them. What does he say? "O foolish ones…" Which can sound really biting to our English ears, yet, in the original language, it's just a statement that's more matter-of-fact.

He's looking at them, and after everything they've unpacked, he simply says something along the lines of, "You guys, you know better. You know better than this." He patiently proceeds to show them how all of the Scripture, from Moses to all of the Prophets, is pointing to him. In 2 Corinthians, it says it like this. "For to this day, when they read the old covenant, that same veil remains unlifted, because only through Christ is it taken away. Yes, to this day whenever Moses is read a veil lies over their hearts. But when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed."

You see, they thought they understood. They thought they had it figured out. They thought they had connected all of the dots. They thought they had cracked the code, but they were wrong, which is actually really good news. It doesn't sound like good news. None of us want to be wrong, yet it's such good news for the doubtful, for the disappointed, because it tells us there's hope.

Disappointment is not the end of your story. Doubt is not the end of your story. There's a better explanation for your reality than the things that have spoken in already, but the way you find that hope is you start listening to Jesus rather than whatever it is that caused your confusion in the first place. I think this is going to happen for some people in this room tonight.

I think, maybe for the first time in a long time, some of us are going to stop listening to what other people say about God from our podcasts or from our families or our friend groups or from platforms or from social media and we're going to start listening to what God has to say himself. Rather than letting the culture weigh in on our spirituality, we're going to let the Scripture weigh in on our spirituality.

We're going to re-dignify the voice of God in our lives, because it is his voice and his voice alone, by way of his Word, that leads us to greater hope. I think it's going to happen. I think some of you are going to open his Word. You're going to listen to his voice. You're going to watch the way he lives. You're going to observe the way he engages with other people.

You're going to have the chance to see the miracles he performs, and then you're going to seek his kingdom, and by the grace of God, you're going to find your faith again, because this is what Jesus does. He comes to calm confusion with his Word. Where's the Word at in your life? How fast do you hold to it? It's an anchor for the doubting soul, and it's a sure way to consistently provide a beacon of hope. Why do I think all that? Because that's how this story ends. We'll pick it up in verse 28.

"So they drew near to the village to which they were going. He acted as if he were going farther, but they urged him strongly, saying, 'Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent.' So he went in to stay with them. When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed and broke it and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. And he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, 'Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?'"

I love the way this story ends. Jesus walks with them for seven miles. He talks with them through all of their doubts. He unpacks with them the entirety of the Scripture, yet it isn't until he breaks bread with them at dinner that they realize, "This is no ordinary guy. This is Jesus." Jesus could have restored their faith theologically, he could have restored their faith apologetically, he could have restored their faith philosophically, he could have restored their faith historically, yet Jesus chooses to restore their faith relationally.

He sits at table with them. He breaks bread. He has a meal. He chooses to use relationship as the means through which he brings them back to himself, because Jesus doesn't just want your allegiance; he wants your affection. That's why Jesus rekindles the flame of a heart grown cold. Do you have a cold heart here tonight? Then listen. You're in good company, not because of the people around you but because of the God above you. He's a God who seeks to reignite the fainting flame of faith in the lives of his people, and he wants to do it through relationship.

It isn't until he breaks the bread and extends it to them with the nail-pierced hands that he and only he has that they realize, "Those are the hands that stretched wide on the cross for me back then, and they're the same hands which reach out in relationship to me right now." They realize Jesus wants more than a theological commitment. He wants more than their moral conformity. He wants more than their religious observance. He wants a real relationship with them.

Do you want a real relationship with God? Not a phony, fake relationship. Not the kind of relationship where it's like, "I know some facts about the individual. I can fire off a bunch of information I've learned." That's not the kind of relationship he wants. He doesn't want the kind of relationship that distantly knows each other from afar. He doesn't want the kind of relationship that even just enjoys spending some time together at different moments. No, Jesus is not in for that. He wants a real relationship.

He wants a face-to-face, all-the-time-together, personally knowing, intimately acquainted kind of relationship with you. He wants to be close to you. That's the kind of heart Jesus has for his people. We often don't have the same sort of heart in return. He takes them back to the place where relationship began, where he breaks bread as a symbol of his broken body, and he says, "I would give everything to have you. I'd do anything to get you. I will give all of myself to get all of you, because I don't just want your soul; I want your heart."

Maybe you hear that, and you think, "Yeah, man, that sounds nice. I bet that is Jesus' perspective. I bet he does want relationship with these people, but I don't look anything like them. I don't act anything like them. I don't come from the same places as any of them. I don't believe any of the same things as them. Yes, Jesus wants a relationship with them, but I look nothing like them; therefore, Jesus wants nothing to do with me."

If that's you, and you hear all this, and you know all your doubt, and you feel like you don't fit into the story, then you need to know, while we know the name of one disciple, Cleopas, we do not know the name nor identity of the other. He or she is known as the unknown disciple. The reason is Luke wants those who feel like this could never be their story to find themselves in the story.

He wants you to know there's no one Jesus doesn't want. There's no person Jesus doesn't desire. It doesn't matter the depth or the degree of your doubt. This story is telling us that Jesus doesn't just want to build in us an unbreakable belief; he wants to build in us an unbreakable bond, one that could never be broken.

Several years ago, I learned this lesson very personally when I endured what felt like the greatest personal challenge of my life to that point. It was one of those "dark nights of the soul" sort of moments. Some of you get what I'm talking about. I was standing at the precipice of a new job opportunity that was the stuff of my dreams. It was the very thing I had secretly wished for, journaled about, and prayed to God for yet never admitted aloud to because it was so ridiculous. It was so audacious, yet I found myself in the throes of actually attaining it.

I found in that season I was closer to God than ever, because I needed God more than ever. I was religiously, regularly going on prayer walks with God. I'd get out of the house, and I would go for long stretches of my day, and I would talk to him. I would ask his help, I would seek his favor, I would declare my trust, and I would pray for his will again and again and again. I prayer walked the walls of Jericho down on that thing, which is why it was so shocking to me when, in the eleventh hour, the subject of my dreams was like a rug pulled out from underneath me.

What I thought I was to attain was ripped away from me, and all I felt like I had were no more dreams, yet only doubts. Everything I longed for, everything I prayed for, everything I aimed for, all that I had been trying to set myself up to acquire was taken away from me in a moment. All I felt in that instance was frustration and doubt and a faintness of heart that led me to a place in my spirituality I never thought I would find myself.

It was late one evening about a month or so later that I was so depressed. I was sitting in the center of my driveway at probably midnight, and I had nothing left to say to God. I'd grumbled against him. I'd warred with him. I'd raged against the heavens. I'd expressed all my disappointment. Some of you get what that feels like.

Yet, as I sat in the center of my driveway, I heard that still, small voice that is so unmistakably God ask me this question: "Are we still going to go for walks?" All of my belief was broken, but my bond was not. No one can take away those who are in relationship to God. No amount of doubt, no amount of disappointment, no amount of despair can wring you from his grip. It is far too strong to ever let you go.

You may feel like, "I'm so far away, though." His arm is so very long. He wants a real relationship with you, because he not only wants your soul; he wants your heart. Porch, God wants your heart, and what we learn by the end of this text is he wants it hot, and he will pursue you in the coldness of doubt until the flame of faith is rekindled again.

Is your heart burning within you tonight as you hear these words, as this truth washes over your faint spirit? Is it burning again? John Wesley famously said at his conversion that his heart was gently warmed, strangely warmed. Friend, if your heart is warming here, it's because Jesus is wanting here. He is wanting for you. We have such confidence that that's the case, because what we know is when our hearts had grown darker than doubt in the dead of our sins, Jesus passionately pursued us anyway.

He walked toward us when we had all walked away. All of us had abandoned God. Like sheep we had gone astray, yet Jesus said, "You'll never outrun me. It doesn't matter how far away you walk from me. I'll chase you down. I'll race forward. I will pursue you still, because you're my people. You may not want me, but I want you. I'm going to bring you back. I'm going to put you in my family, because I'm a God, I'm a Savior, I'm a Lord who walks with those who walk away from me."

Jesus calmed our confusion with his words. Into the misery, in the madness of our sin, he spoke the words of life. He didn't just come to teach you some nice things, to increase your academia, to help you learn some new platitudes. No, he came to speak life into you, and he rekindled the flames of hearts grown cold.

How cold is a dead heart? It's the coldest of all, yet Jesus said, "I will take their cold heart into my chest by dying their death, that they might have my living heart and they might go free instead." It does not matter the degree of your doubt. What matters is the extent of his love. He wants relationship. Do you want it in return? Let me pray for you.

God, I pray my friends here know that you really want them. It's impossible for you to need us, for you are all-sufficient. Therefore, God, for you to do what you've done in the person of your Son is a staggering declaration that you want all of us, not because of anything we've done, not because of anything we've earned, and not because of anything we deserve, God, but simply because you choose us.

I pray, God, that for those in this room who feel like they are on the precipice of deconstruction, who think doubt is all that dwells ahead in their future, they might know, "It's not my doubt that awaits for me in the future; it's my Jesus who awaits for me instead." We love you, God, and we sing to you now the worship that is only worthy of you. It's in Christ's name we pray, amen.

Porch, you can stand to your feet. We're going to jump back into worship. For a God like that, we're going to blow the ever-loving roof off this place. It is week two. It is the beginning of the year. We are going to go hard here in the final stretch. We believe God is worth it. Amen? So we're going to sing like we believe it.

Sometimes what you have to do to a doubting heart is declare to it the hope it has forgotten. That's what we're going to do as we sing together here. Some of you need to process with somebody. We have a team down here to my left and my right that would love to engage with you. Listen. The band has led. I have led. Now you get to lead. The moment is yours. Let's meet with him together.