The Glass House of Certainty: Why Curiosity Isn’t the Enemy of Faith, But Silence Is

By Lisa King, LPC

Growing up in high-control religious environments, many of us learned an unwritten rule early on: questions are dangerous. We were taught that faith was a fragile thing, easily shattered by too much probing. Doubt was framed not as a natural part of human cognition, but as a moral failing or a spiritual attack.

But as many of us begin the arduous, often unwanted process of deconstructing our faith—especially in the aftermath of religious trauma—we discover a startling truth. Curiosity is not what destroys faith. Curiosity is what seeks truth.

The real enemy of a vibrant, living faith is certainty. And the most profound wounds we carry often come not from the initial spiritual abuse, but from the deafening silence of the people we love when we try to talk about it.

The Idol of Certainty

Certainty is seductive. It offers a black-and-white map for a nuanced, gray world. It provides a sense of control and safety. In many religious communities, certainty is marketed as faith itself. If you are certain, you are "strong."

Yet, Paul Tillich, a renowned theologian, argued that doubt isn't the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith. If you have absolute certainty, you have no need for trust. You simply have "knowledge" (or the illusion of it). True faith requires stepping into the unknown, and the only vehicle we have for navigating the unknown is curiosity.

When we deconstruct, we are often moving from a "received faith" (what we were told to believe to belong) to an "owned faith" (what we genuinely believe based on conscience, experience, and ethics). This process requires immense courage. It demands that we ask hard questions about doctrines that may have caused us harm.

The rigid structures of certainty cannot abide this scrutiny. When you ask a question that threatens the structural integrity of someone’s theological house of cards, they don't hear curiosity; they hear a threat.

The Second Trauma: The Void of Response

This is where the deepest pain lies for the deconstructing survivor.

You have survived religious trauma—perhaps spiritual manipulation, abuse of power by leadership, or doctrines that induced chronic shame and fear. You finally muster the agonizing courage to share this experience with the people you love most—parents, siblings, lifelong church friends. You aren't just sharing an opinion; you are handing them a piece of your shattered soul in hopes they will help you hold it.

And so often, what you receive back is a void.

It might look like a quick changing of the subject. It might look like sending texts or cards that offer scripture or a prayer saying something like, “I read this the other day and thought of you.“ Often, it is simply a blank stare followed by moving on as if you said nothing at all.

This reaction—or lack thereof—is devastating. It is a special kind of hell to realize there is no space held for you by the people supposed to love you unconditionally.

Why does this happen?

It is rarely malicious. More often, it is a collision of psychological defense mechanisms:

1. Lack of Framework: If they haven't experienced spiritual abuse, they genuinely may not have the cognitive framework to process what you are saying. It sounds like a foreign language.

2. The Threat of Contagion: If they validate your trauma, they have to admit that the system they still rely on for safety is capable of great harm. Acknowledging your pain might crack their own certainty, and that is terrifying.

3. The Freeze Response: They don't know how to fix it, they are afraid of saying the wrong thing, so they do the worst thing possible: they do nothing.

When Silence Equals Violence

We must validate a hard truth for survivors: The inability of loved ones to witness your pain can feel just as damaging, if not more damaging, than the original religious abuse.

Psychologists often refer to this as "betrayal trauma." It occurs when the people or institutions on which a person depends for survival violate that person's trust or well-being.

When you share your abuse story, you are seeking connection and validation. When you are met with silence or dismissal, the message received is: "Your pain is not real," "You are too much," or "Protecting the reputation of the church/doctrine is more important than your safety."

This secondary wounding reinforces the isolation of the original trauma. It gaslights you into wondering if you are crazy for feeling hurt. It teaches you that authentic connection is impossible if you bring your whole, wounded self to the table.

A Call for Witnessing

If you are on the outside looking in at someone deconstructing due to trauma, know this: You do not need to have the answers. You do not need to agree with their evolving theology. You do not need to "fix" their pain.

You only need to witness it.

Healing doesn't happen in the vacuum of certainty. It happens in the messy, brave space of curiosity and connection. We need less certainty, and more people willing to sit in the uncomfortable silence and say, "I don't understand what you're going through, but I believe you, and it sounds incredibly painful. I am not going anywhere."

References and Further Reading

• Winell, M. (2011). "Religious Trauma Syndrome: It’s Time to Recognize It." Cognitive Behaviour Therapy, Vol 40. (Dr. Winell is a pioneering researcher in this field, defining the specifics of RTS).

• Tillich, P. (1957). Dynamics of Faith. Harper & Row. (For the theological framing that doubt is a necessary component of faith, not its enemy).

• Freyd, J. J. (1996). Betrayal Trauma: The Logic of Forgetting Childhood Abuse. Harvard University Press. (While often focused on childhood, Freyd's framework of betrayal trauma is highly applicable to religious contexts where institutions/loved ones ignore abuse to maintain the status quo).

• Brown, B. (2017). Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone. Random House. (Addresses the pain of "fitting in" versus true belonging, and the difficulty of standing alone when your community rejects your authentic self).

• Enns, P. (2014). The Sin of Certainty: Why God Desires Our Trust More Than Our "Correct" Beliefs. HarperOne. (A helpful resource for understanding the theological shift from needing to be "right" to learning to trust amidst unknowns).