2 weeks Ago By Tristan Zinampan
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rapplerAds.displayAd( "mobile-middle-1" );For the first time in my life, I’m choosing to observe Holy Week not out of obligation but because I want to. (Or at least I think I do).
I’d like to believe that my struggles with organized religion are the same struggles of every “progressive” raised Catholic. Throughout the years, I have oscillated between labels such as “Customized Catholic,” “Agnostic,” and even “Deist” — which, to be honest, I just picked from Google but basically means believing in a Creator but rejecting the idea of religious affinities or ongoing divine intervention in human affairs.Long story short, my religious journey was and still is shrouded in doubt.
I guess I am now just a “Doubter.”Reconciling doubt with faithAlan Moore once said: “Art makes us feel less alone. It makes us think: somebody has thought of this, somebody else has had these feelings.
” As someone who still finds discomfort in talking about things personal, such as religion, it is in pop culture where I seek meaning and refuge.Art and religion have a long shared history together — think of the Psalms and the Sistine Chapel. To me, pop culture has become my supplement to modern scripture, a place where I can quietly wrestle with questions without judgment or dogmatic sermons.
Every now and then, it even offers a mirror sharp enough to reflect the messiness of my beliefs. And, the thing about art: you never really know where clarity may emerge.I’ve recently reached a point where I’ve accepted that doubt is okay.
My acceptance, though, does not mean comfort. It’s making peace with the idea that some things cannot change, embracing doubt as an inseparable part of faith — as one will not exist without another. It took an Oscar-worthy impassioned monologue from the 2024 film Conclave to give me the nudge to acknowledge this.
In the film, Ralph Fiennes plays a papabile named Cardinal Lawrence, whose role as Dean of the College of Cardinals also dictates that he be the lead organizer of the conclave after the pope’s passing. In a pivotal scene where he inadvertently makes his stance known for the next papal election, he gives this now-notable sermon about certainty being the “enemy of tolerance.” Though framed mainly as a critique of the bigotry bred by today’s echo chambers, one line stands out: “If there has only been certainty and if there was no doubt, there would be no mystery, and therefore no room for faith.
”Play VideoMaybe holding on to doubt is the point. Faith isn’t about extinguishing doubt but learning how to walk with it — trusting that a path will unfold even when you can’t see it all the way through.Keeping the faith despite, not becausewindow.
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displayAd( "mobile-middle-2" );If I had to identify my core issues with organized religion, they would stem from two things: the prejudice embedded deep within institutional structures and the blind obedience of some followers — zealots who cling to dogma while abandoning the very principles faith is meant to uphold. Frank Herbert’s Dune captures this tension masterfully, warning us of how belief, once co-opted, can become a tool for control rather than connection.So yes, while I’ve just said that keeping the faith involves learning to walk with doubt, that doesn’t mean rushing forward blindly.
The light at the end of the tunnel may be faint or sometimes not visible at all, but that’s precisely why each step needs to be deliberate — led not by blind pursuit of an ideal but by a deeper sense of purpose and empathy.In Malcolm Gladwell’s 2019 season of Revisionist History, he discusses the Jesuit method of moral reasoning known as “casuistry,” which suggests that principle is a product of past circumstances and is not always applicable to what is current. To truly respond to suffering, we must descend into the specifics — into the lived realities of others.
Without that, principles are reduced to mere platitudes or, worse, outrage. To “love your neighbor” — to stand with the marginalized, the oppressed, and the powerless — we must begin not with judgment but with the humility to listen.That idea — that mix of idealism and perseverance, that we can all “be the change” — finds echoes elsewhere, too.
There’s an anime I’m currently watching called Orb: On the Movements of the Earth. It covers the long journey of heliocentrism becoming a fact of the world rather than heresy (discounting, of course, flat earthers. lol).
In the larger tapestry of time, I’d like to believe nothing, including the Church, is static. Everything can evolve through the belief of people who refuse to give up, no matter how broken they may seem. Faith goes beyond institutions; it is about what we choose in our capacity to carry forward.
Make peace and push forwardIronic and as unserious as it may sound — and despite also resonating with the monologue of Anthony Hopkins’ Pope Benedict in The Two Popes, where he confesses his struggle to hear God’s voice — it is with Marvel’s Daredevil where I find unlikely spiritual comfort. As a hero, Matt Murdock (Daredevil’s alter-ego) struggles with the dissonance between the rule of law and the principles of justice. And yet, the cornerstone of his moral compass is his Catholic faith.
Even as he questions, falters, and wrestles with the silence of God, he keeps returning. I ask myself if the struggle itself is part of the sacred.Each day, I still find my thoughts brushing up against disbelief.
But now, instead of apprehension, I try to listen and sit with the uncomfortable silence. Maybe silence and doubt don’t mean absence but rather space. Space for mystery, for awe, and for grace.
In a world saturated with noise, certainty, and hot takes, maybe there’s something radical — even sacred — about being at peace with not knowing but choosing to continue. – Rappler.com.
