Portrait of Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821 – 1881) by Vasily Perov

Very few have looked into the near-infinite abyss of evil as deeply as the great Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky. And no one, ever, has produced a finer statement of atheism than the one he put in the mouth of Ivan, the middle brother in his masterwork Brothers Karamazov.

Yet Dostoevsky himself believed. Faith certainly did not come easy for him; it required hand-to-hand combat with unbelief. On one occasion he remarked, “It is not as a child that I believe and confess Jesus Christ. My hosanna is born of a furnace of doubt.”

But that same Jesus once said, “Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it” (Mark 10:15). These are hard words, some of the hardest in the Bible. For a great many Christians, faith isn’t something simple and spontaneous. It’s cost them sleepless nights and mental agony to hold onto their mustard seed of faith. They want to receive the kingdom like a child, with untroubled joy and without hesitation, but like Dostoevsky they find they cannot. Is their faith invalid?

Surely not. The Apostle Thomas was rebuked for his unbelief but not cast out. Those who doubt are not denied entrance into the kingdom, for it is the object of their faith – not its strength – that saves them.

So what did the Lord mean? It’s true that little children trust without reservation until they’re taught to do otherwise. Older kids frequently convince a younger sibling that he or she was adopted, or brought home from the pound, or found in a cardboard box in the backyard.

And, as a corollary, it’s true that the faith of little children is simple and unquestioning. A few years back I got in a insignificant spat with my mother – the whole thing was really more banter than argument. Afterwards I went to the office upstairs to do some work. A minute later there was a knock at the door: it was my six-year-old sister, who had evidently been present for our squabble. She informed me that my behavior was, in no uncertain terms, displeasing to God, to Jesus, and to the angels, and that I should really give some serious thought to the state of my soul. Not a shadow of doubt in any of those realities ever troubled the brain of this first grade prophetess.

But here’s another thing about little kids: they live from the heart. They don’t know how to have ulterior motives. They’re ridiculously selfish, but their selfishness is frank and unstudied. Their affections are reckless. It never occurs to them to play it safe or hedge their bets. Little kids certainly lie but they can’t really deceive, because they can’t live double lives long enough to deceive effectively.

I think that’s what Jesus meant primarily when he told us to be like children: live from your heart. Believe from your heart, even doubt from your heart. If you have doubts, acknowledge them to yourself. Bring them to your Father, who will never cast you out. Tell them to trusted friends. Don’t try to protect yourself by living a lie, because only the man who’s willing to lose his life will gain it in the end.