There are two different categories of humans in terms of Jungian typology: the introvert and the extrovert. The mind of the introvert tends to turn inward on itself, the state called introspection, whereas the extrovert has the outer world as their focus of attention. The way of the extrovert is assuredly more relaxing because they can enjoy the world generally without bearing some of its implications with the same gravity that is more customary among introverts. Thus following 1 Corinthians 15.32, they can say of life and its termination "Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die". This quotation is typical of the extrovert attitude to life and death, for it concerns itself chiefly with the immediate present, and has little concern for the things of eternity. The extrovert would be more likely to reject spiritual matters as being irrelevant to their and the world's present needs, and in any case completely unproven and a mere sell-out to the forces of superstition and fear. What is immediately demonstrable and therefore provable would alone fulfil their satisfaction.
Such a view of life is by no means totally unacceptable or absolutely incompatible with their spiritual vision (as far as this can accommodate spiritual forces among the various unseen circumstances that would appear to govern any person's life), and it learns to embrace a degree of sensibility to the needs of other people also, inasmuch as the extrovert's awareness starts to turn away from their own sole concerns to those of other people, which after all is the basis of civilized, communal living. The problem associated with a typical extrovert is a certain lack of imagination. They find it hard to enter into the life of another person because their own inner life is so much a closed book to them. They tend to ride roughshod over the feelings of other people, not so much through hostility or disdain as through pure insensitivity, which is an almost inevitable result of not having had the experience of being inwardly bruised through the unkindness of other people in their earlier years, when their own feelings were especially tender.
The introvert, by contrast, knows at an early stage of their life what it feels like to be inwardly hurt. Their self-confidence, or self-esteem if they have been the butt of the ridicule or cruelty of their teachers or peers, is easily shaken, and they cannot take their own safety, let alone invulnerability, for granted.
I do not believe that this negative response to the challenges of life is simply a reaction to past experience, for character is also moulded by genetic influences, the health of the person and their family background, and spiritual factors which cannot be glimpsed by outsiders until they have gained some insight into their own character in terms of strength and weakness. The introvert starts life at a considerable social disadvantage for which they may overcompensate by an acute awareness of their relationship with those around them. They may feel deeply, at first in a self-centred way in terms of what others think about them, but later they can become increasingly concerned about the lives and welfare of numerous other people. All this devolves upon them as they begin to comprehend their call to universal service, learning to feel that we all belong to one another as parts of one body (Ephesians 4.25).
The path of the introvert is therefore more distinctly solitary than that of the extrovert. It has much less social entertainment at the end of the day, but its rewards are correspondingly more impressive. Most of the innovatory geniuses of the world come from within its borders.
In fact, what we learn about ourselves comes basically from two sources. First of all, there are our relationships with those around us who impinge immediately upon us, whether positively or negatively. The other source of self-knowledge is the effect of life's various vicissitudes, whether positive or negative. Positive vicissitudes include material success, happy relationships, and good health, whereas negative vicissitudes comprise such emotional shocks as disappointment, bereavement, ill-health, and betrayal, to name but a few. The introvert learns to come to terms with life's debris no less than its beauty at an early age. The extrovert seems to have no difficulty in shutting their eyes to life's more sordid aspects and living in a cloud of optimism. They are confident about their own capacity to win through despite the disillusionment of much of life's experience. Indeed, their life is a splendidly adventurous one, and a very important property shared in common between extroverts and introverts is courage, a most admirable quality which consists in boldness to hold fast to one's convictions despite all discord and to act upon them.
The tenacity and strength of one's belief, even to death if need be, are typical of courage. It may be ill advised, but it cannot be accused of the frailty of doubt. There is, however, a distinct difference between the extrovert's and the introvert's courage; the former has little concern for their life or reputation in people's eyes, acting not so much out of humility but as a gesture of pure, unsought bravery, or in its less admirable form, defiance or foolhardiness, whereas the introvert's courage is keenly concerned with other people's attitudes and views on their own past life and general reputation.
They tend to have rather less personal and social ease, so that their particular type of courage takes the form of putting on a brave face in the company of people whom they do not know socially, especially those who are renowned for some particular feat or quality. In this they show, at least to themselves, that they too have something to offer and are not merely nonentities. If only we were all aware of how little other people cared about us, our social background, and even our personal appearance (within, of course, the limits of respectability), a great deal of anxiety would drop from us very rapidly, but we, especially the introverts among our number, are often so imprisoned in our own illusion of inferiority, which is in fact a state of feeling ill at ease in our social environment, that we dare not drop the mask of convention and begin to become authentically ourselves. This is the paralysing aspect of doubt that is frequently unknown to the extrovert, who in turn follows their own way oblivious of the effect they are having on other people.
Should doubt in fact have this effect in the living of our lives? And if it should, what are the criteria we should be applying to ascertain whether it is functioning properly and not deleteriously? During much of our time there seems to be scant reason to doubt either our way of life or our motives; introspection, the way of the introvert, can easily be exaggerated to the extent that all initiative is suffocated, as the various aspects influencing the course of an enterprise begin to form the basis of an interminable debate.
We are always wise to listen to various views, even if they strike no note of recognition in our own mind, for by this open discussion we are more likely to come to the truth about a private matter. When we are sure that our own approach is without fault and our own opinions are clearly in the right, this is the time to watch out and keep our eyes fixed on the present moment, for here lies the stone on which we will be especially liable to trip and sustain a severe fracture of faith. What I am saying is this: the important aspect of doubt that shows itself in our lives is related not only to our character but also as a response to the various challenging experiences in our lives.
When a sequence of misfortunes afflicts our life, it may well be that the cause is related to our own insouciance. Sometimes a severe emotional response can complicate personal issues of one type or another that have gone wrong. On occasion there may be a psychic rebound to add its burden to the emotional one. To some of us this is pure unsubstantiated superstition, but others with a more sensitive temperament tend to be more tolerant to this type of approach.
Self-knowledge is frequently lacking in the extrovert, who considers that their customary state of awareness is clearly identical with things as they really are, and their usual feelings are a precise summary of their inner life, even if the tenor varies according to the present circumstances. To many extroverts the very concept of "inner life" may be incomprehensible, for after all there is only one life and this is identical with the sum total of the individual's present awareness. With such a limited understanding, there can be only a very restricted view of the feelings, indeed the life, of another person. Obviously, such a confined understanding of the nature of a person is inadequate because it evades vast tracts of personality that are peculiar to a particular individual, whilst tending to place people into various idio-syncratic categories that may bear little resemblance to those that have been formulated by specialists in psychological typology.
An extrovert would tend to be nonplussed and sometimes a little irritated also by the failure of those who they believe can make their mark in the world of endeavour and worldly success, and would tend to attribute the failure to produce anything worthwhile by intellectually and artistically sterile people to their general ineptitude, coupled with a rampant laziness. This harsh judgement is related to the absence of empathy, and is not a product of hard-heartedness so much as a general insensitivity to other people's fears and feelings, and their often desperate prayers to be shown the light of truth in the dark fog that clouds so much of the atmosphere in which they live their lives on earth. It is characteristic of the extrovert's awareness that there is a general satisfaction in their lifestyle and that of their family, at least when it is young. There may be material problems with their collective well-being, but once these threatening factors have been banished by direct action, doubt is soon dispelled and a new status quo is attained. Indeed, an extrovert's life can be extremely pleasant among strangers, but in due course its orderly progress is liable to be shattered by tragedy or disaster of one type or another.
The confidence of the extrovert is seen in the introvert's way of life also, but here there is less naïve trust in their own capacity and a greater respect for the forces of the universe that sustain all our lives. I prefer to use this term rather than the word God because the concept is open to so many doubtful assumptions. The question about whether these universal powers are totally beneficial or not was considered in the second chapter in relationship to Job's suffering, and we came to the conclusion that their great benefit lay in making humans more able to confront their challenge without flinching, stronger, and more serviceable to their fellows by virtue of their own experience. Therefore, there is only one ultimate source of courage, but whereas an extrovert would see it as intrinsic to their own personality, the introvert would have a wider, more universal approach with special reference to a power far beyond their own scope.
A well-known poem by Arthur Hugh Clough (1819-61) gives an eloquent approach to doubt in the universal process of life and death in the world.
Say not the struggle naught availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain,
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been, they remain.
If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed,
Your comrades chase e'en now the flyers,
And, but for you, possess the field.
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back through creeks and inlets making
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light,
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright.
This poem (called "Say Not the Struggle Naught Availeth") is a most eloquent expression of the necessity of doubt in the experience of self-knowledge. When we believe we have little to offer the world or our small patch in it, then we may discover our own unique, if humble, place in the scheme of life. The reason for this lies in the uniqueness of our own personality, which, incidentally, includes much more than merely a question of extroversion versus introversion.
Doubt is also important in bringing us back down to reality if we tend to have too high an opinion of our own abilities. Nobody enjoys being criticized because of the deflating effect on their personality. By nature, there are few of us who actually see ourselves realistically; while some are immersed in feelings of inferiority when compared with people whom they know, others believe that they are naturally gifted and form a superior elite. In fact, all these distinctions are vain. What is important is that we should actualize our own gifts for the use of the community and not to our own advantage. This is the way of illusion, as our own personal advantage soon fades before the winds of disaster when we are confronted by market forces far beyond our manipulation.
I have complete assurance that doubt is invaluable in helping us to become a mature person, maturing in this context being completeness in natural development with fully developed powers of body and mind. But the question that was asked earlier on in the chapter remains: What criteria should we use to find out whether doubt is functioning properly or deleteriously in our lives? If doubt functions in a deleterious way, it becomes injurious to our well-being, interfering with the normal performance of our work, even to the extent of producing a fear within us that we may be the victims of accidents or violence if we pursue the normal course of our lives. There is a subtle difference between doubt and uncertainty. Though doubt is frequently defined as a feeling of uncertainty, an undecided state of mind, and an inclination to disbelieve what other people say or teach, the kernel of doubt lies buried in the depth of the mind, called the unconscious, and is open to exposure by any fresh experience that causes the person to recall wounding events of long ago, including those of childhood and adolescence. The memory of these causes a person to respond painfully to a past era of their lives. It may be advisable to undergo psychotherapy in order to reveal masking material in the unconscious that is preventing the individual seeing themself more significantly as a universal being, no longer restricted by barriers of race, religion, or nationality. An alternative way is one of counselling with a space for prayer, confession and absolution. This more gentle approach will sometimes be especially effective for one obsessed by doubts of a spiritual nature.
The word "spiritual" in this context appertains to the loving God of religion and all that relates directly to him. There is much more to God than merely a reassuring presence which makes us feel warm and comfortable. Indeed, the very presence of God is the greatest of all mysteries, and cannot be taken for granted by anyone attempting to penetrate the heart of doubt: after all, if we could take the Divine Presence and initiative for granted, the teeth would be largely extracted from doubt, which would remain little more than a small awareness of transient, individual inadequacy. But, of course, even this statement requires some modification. Job learnt there was a cruel, unpredictable streak in God's relationship with his creatures. We need not be anchored in his own story and even reflect on the natural tragedies that punctuate the world's history from age to age.
I am not including in these events the various horrors that have followed human cruelty which are not directly attributable to Divine action. The human being has been given the power of a god, which can be defined as a creature blessed with the gift of free will. In our world we are unique in this respect. Psalm 82 has much to say about the subject.
God takes his place in the court of heaven
to pronounce judgement among the gods;
"How much longer will you judge unjustly and favour the wicked?
Uphold the cause of the weak and the fatherless,
and see right done to the afflicted and destitute.
Rescue the weak and the needy,
and save them from the clutches of the wicked."
But these gods know nothing and understand nothing,
they walk about in darkness;
meanwhile, earth's foundations are all giving way.
This is my sentence:
"Though you are gods, all sons of the Most High,
yet you shall die as mortals die,
and fall as any prince does."
God, arise and judge the earth,
for all the nations are yours.
When Jesus is attacked by the Jews for claiming to be God, he quotes the last part of the Psalm to justify his claim, teaching that it is those to whom God's words come who are called gods.
The question remains, of course, whether his godhead is similar to that of any other human or of a distinctly more holy type due to his consecration by the Father (John 10.34-38). It was this claim that infuriated the Jews so much that they desired to stone him. If we read the Gospel in the spirit of reasonable doubt, we too might raise our eyebrows at Jesus' claims during his teaching ministry before he was tested at the time of his death, and here we have to come to our own conclusions. Certainly, this particular claim attributed to Jesus is peculiar to John's Gospel and is not found in the same way in any of the other three preceding synoptic ones. But these three Gospels - Matthew, Mark, and Luke - had a very different style and content to the fourth, which is based on the manifestation of Christ's glory from the earliest miracles to the resurrection. But how much we can accept of all this narrative depends ultimately on our own discernment. Doubt is certainly a hard task-master, but when we have come to grips with this challenge, we emerge as stronger, more independent individuals. We are more capable of making our own decisions and acting on them with strength and determination. We are able to face the worst in a situation, we can relax and work our way forward with faith and courage. The cleansing effect of doubt wipes away all illusion from us, and then we can begin to do our work with ease and inner joy.
My own opinion is that Jesus did indeed show many exceptional spiritual gifts, but that his followers have often failed notably to do much more than indulge in sectarian warfare, while the teaching has flown out of the window. Charismatic spiritual leaders can easily let their flock depend almost entirely on their gifts, while doubt is abandoned in the interests of respect and homage. This gullibility can have a baneful effect on the lives of both the leader and their flock. The leader can be so seduced by the plaudits of their followers that the self-criticism which is the basis of constructive doubt is allowed to be carried away by the wind of complacency, and ceases to govern the way of life of the chosen person. At the same time, the disciples may have abdicated responsible control of their own lives and affairs, and placed themselves in the grasp of a possibly predatory leader who may subsequently abuse their trust for purely personal gain. This painful experience will have taught them something about their responsibility for their individual life and the power granted them as humans, but the lesson might be quite shattering. We have to learn that there is no worldly power that can be totally relied upon, "Many waters cannot quench love, no flood can sweep it away; if someone were to offer for love all the wealth of his house, it would be laughed to scorn" (Song of Songs 8.7). This is not a cynical observation about human devotion so much as a realistic statement about human reliability in terms of self-giving love. The haste with which Peter withdrew from his betrayed Master shortly after swearing eternal allegiance to him (Matthew 26.35) is a telling example of the short-lived nature of our promises in the face of the world's challenge from day to day.
It was only with Christ's departure into death that the Holy Spirit could perform his amazing work of renewal on his disciples' lives (John 11.7). No matter how we interpret both the nature of God and his action in the world, we cannot deny his work in the lives of innumerable people. Here doubt can at least start to be appraised by facts.
But, of course, the question remains: were the Pentecostal phenomena true manifestations of a supernatural power or simply a type of group hysteria? This question makes me view the Divine Grace on a level far beyond psychical phenomena.