The Practice of Believing the Best

There was another social media stoning last week. There’s probably been two more since then, but I am trying to avoid them, so I don’t know. The one I watched last week reminded me of the 2nd greatest command to love our neighbors as ourselves coupled with Paul’s description of love in I Corinthians 13:7, love hopes all things and believes all things. The love that God commands is ever ready to believe the best of someone.

In my experience, the biggest concern people have with believing the best is the fear of being proven wrong. Fool me once, shame on you. But fool me twice, it’s shame on me, right? But note the point of Paul’s instructions on love. Every description of love in I Corinthians 13 is meaningless without the context of tension or conflict. You do good to your friend who always does good to you, Jesus says? Well, sinners directly opposed to God can do that.

Matthew 5:43-47 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?

There are complicating elements on the micro level, particularly in relationships of unequal authority and power. “Trust but verify” is particularly important when engaging as a child or spouse with a parent or spouse of greater physical or financial power who has deeply broken trust before but genuinely seeks to repent and repair. I’ve written about that at various times and won’t rehash it here. 

On the macro level, particularly around social media, I am trying to practice the command to love by believing the best and hoping the best of others. Note that this doesn’t mean that I need to look away or deny something that is provably wrong. For instance, if a pastor resigns when under church discipline by his elders to get out from their God-given authority, then until he repents of that and works to walk the road of accountability, there is no benefit of the doubt to be given there. I can however still hope for the best for him. I can hope that he will humble himself, repent specifically, and repair with those he has wronged.

What do we do when there is a question—when something sounds fishy but it could also be above board? If I am suspicious that someone’s declaration saying one thing is actually deception that will harm others, the answer is simple. I need to reserve judgement, and if it is relevant to me or others I love (because many times it’s really none of our business at all), I need to do some research. In last week’s media stoning, it took me about 10 minutes to realize people were totally mistaken in how they represented the person in question.

What if I had given the benefit of the doubt and then was proven wrong? For many, the possibility of being wrong when giving the benefit of the doubt to someone of whom they are suspicious is worth turning towards cynicism instead of practicing I Corinthians 13. But it is in fact NOT worth that at all. There are much worse things than being wounded by someone you gave the benefit of the doubt to. C. S. Lewis said it years ago much better than I could. I found this quote as a college student licking my wounds from some demoralizing rejection, and it has helped me value a soft and open heart in myself even after disheartening loss and painful betrayal.

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” ― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

To give the benefit of the doubt is risky. To love as God commands in 1 Corinthians 13 makes you vulnerable. There is no way around it. You may be wounded again. You may be burned again by a Christian leader or demoralized by a friend to whom you opened yourself. But I believe that the alternative, hardening your heart with cynicism that refuses to allow anyone close enough to hurt you again, is a self-defeating coping mechanism.

Believe the best and hope all things. And if you get burned, definitely figure out wise, safe choices you can make (I love the book Safe People). But don’t let your coping mechanism be a cynicism that believes the worst and suspects all things. That hurts you and the Body of Christ we all belong to. Practice hoping for the best and giving the benefit of the doubt until you are proven wrong. Because it’s a command. One of the greatest ones actually.