The Loss of Certainty
The Way to Certainty Scientific Demonstrations Insufficiency of Proofs The Liberal Solution Experience as the Ground of Certainty The Failure of Experience The Appeal of the Gospel Faith as Ethical Choice Faith and the Word of God The Dimensions of Certainty Certainty a Danger?
The Confirmation of the Sacraments The Fruits of Certainty
The Loss of Certainty The centuries preceding the French Revolution (1789) are in many ways different from the epoch that followed. The radical change of direction introduced into the life and thought of the nations by this tremendous event shattered the continuity of history. We can project ourselves into the thought and life of those preceding ages only with great difficulty. They were the ages of authority and objectivity,
whereas in our era the subject proclaims its freedom and asserts its rights in every area of human existence.
Admittedly, by taking its starting point in faith, the Reformation dealt a stunning blow to the authority that had previously encompassed all of life. In the Reformation the believing subject arose against the oppressive authority of the infallible church and boldly shook off the painful yoke of an old tradition. Nevertheless, in the principles of the Reformation, Christians remained bound to God's Word as it came to them in the Old and New Testaments. And in the protestant church the authority of that Word was initially so unshakable that people rarely doubted it—not even in their heart. There was faith and there was certainty. No one felt the need for an inquiry into the final ground of faith, into the deepest foundations of certainty. People were convinced they possessed the truth, and no one questioned the writings on which the faith was grounded. In times of vital religious life you don't doubtingly examine the foundations of your hope. You speak as one having authority and not like the Pharisees.
After the middle of the eighteenth century this situation gradually changed. The subject came into its own. It became aware of its true or presumed rights and slowly broke all the ties binding it to the past. In an unlimited sense of freedom it emancipated itself from everything the past held sacred. All authority that demanded recognition and obedience had to answer first the foundational question: By what right do you demand my obedience? Critical reason had been awakened, launching an inquiry into the ground of all authority. Naive, simple, childlike faith all but vanished.
Doubt has now become the sickness of our century, bringing with it a string of moral problems and plagues. Nowadays, many people take into account only what they can see; they deify matter, worship
Mammon, or glorify power. The number of those who still utter an undaunted testimony of their faith with joyful enthusiasm and
complete certainty is comparatively small. Families, generations, groups, and classes have turned away from all authority and broken with their faith. Even among those who still call themselves believers, how many must screw up their courage into a forced, unnatural belief? How many believe as a result of habit, laziness or lack of spirit? How many act out of an unhealthy attempt to recover the past or out of a misleading conservatism? There is much noise and movement, but little genuine spirit, little genuine enthusiasm issuing from an upright, fervent, sincere faith.
Nowhere is this more true than among theologians. They are the most doubting, vacillating group of all. They have plenty of questions, doubts and criticism to offer. But what we expect from them more than from anyone else— unity of outlook, consistency of method, certainty of faith, eagerness to give an account of the hope within them—for these traits we often look in vain.
This phenomenon is not confined to a few theological schools; it touches all parties who don't bury their heads in the sand but participate in the great battle of the spirits. The question regarding the rights of faith and the ground of certainty is the dominating question, not just in practical life but also in universities. The more the Christian faith retreats from dealing with every possible question, restricting its (material) content, and the more it applies itself to building a rigorous foundation, deducing all else logically, from these fundamental principles, the more it will become inwardly weak and divided. Those seeking direction in this area are met by a motley array of options and opinions.
Nevertheless, it is vital to faith and to the life of faith to study the area of basic principles very closely, because the questions raised here are of fundamental importance to everyone. There is no more important question than the one concerning the ground of our faith, the certainty of our salvation, the rootedness of our hope in eternal life. What good is knowledge, power, fame and honor if we cannot answer the question about our only comfort?