Six Pillars of Trust: Building Confidence in Theological Voices

When I first became committed to the things of the Lord, I was a sponge. I absorbed whatever anyone was offering, as long as they said they loved Jesus. I bought anything that had a cross on it. My early bookshelf was modest—a five-volume set of J. Vernon McGee’s Through the Bible and Josh McDowell’s Evidence that Demands a Verdict. Back then, I naively believed I was among the few really diving deep into Christianity. After all, who else had a commentary on the entire Bible? I remember taking those commentaries on dates, much to the bewilderment of the girls I was with. They humored me, though, as I expounded on my discoveries about the birth narrative of Jesus.

At that time, I had no idea that discernment was necessary. If it was published, it must be good—or so I thought. My first brush with the “dark side” of Christian literature came when I read a book claiming that every Bible translation besides the King James Version was rooted in deception. I was stunned. Everything I thought I knew was thrown into question. But these authors, they seemed to know what they were talking about—quoting history, Greek, and textual criticism like it was second nature. I figured they must have uncovered a secret plot, and I bought into it, at least for a while.

Over time, though, I dug deeper and started to see the cracks in their arguments. I realized that blind acceptance would require me to reject almost everything else I had read. This experience was a turning point—it taught me that not everyone who claims expertise deserves my trust. It forced me to ask the hard questions: Who should I trust? What are the criteria?

Fast forward to today, and the world is even more confusing. With the internet, there’s an endless supply of alternative positions, soapboxes, and self-proclaimed experts. The sheer volume of information can be overwhelming, and it’s easy to feel lost. I’ve come to accept that I can’t be an expert in everything. But I’ve also learned that trust, especially in the realms of faith, is built on more than just surface-level agreement.

This is where the concept of trust becomes crucial—not just in personal interactions but in how we engage with the theological voices that shape our understanding of the world. Trust is not a given; it’s something that must be earned and maintained, whether we’re talking about a pastor, a theologian, or a friend offering spiritual advice.

1. Admitting When Wrong

The most trustworthy voices have the humility to admit when they’re wrong. They aren’t trying to defend a fortress; they’re committed to discovering the truth, even if it means revising their positions. I remember watching a debate recently—it was intense, and both sides were clearly knowledgeable. At one point, one of the debaters made a particularly strong point, one that was hard to refute. The other guy, who I knew was just as smart and well-versed, paused for a moment. Then, he simply said, “Fair enough.”

Those two words—simple as they were—completely changed my perception of him. It was a concession, an acknowledgment that the other side had made a valid point, and that he had to adjust his position. He didn’t lose the debate by admitting he was wrong; in fact, he won me over. It showed me that he was truly seeking the truth, even at the cost of his argument. That moment made me trust him more than if he had stubbornly defended his stance.

2. Spectrum of Certainty

Trustworthy individuals are transparent about the levels of certainty they hold on different issues. They recognize that belief isn’t a black-and-white matter; it exists on a spectrum. When I first dove into theology, I was fortunate to come across R.C. Sproul, a theologian who profoundly influenced my understanding of belief. I remember listening to him discuss an issue, and he made a simple but transformative statement: “Some things we believe, some things we really believe, and some things we really, really believe.”

That one line helped me break away from a black-and-white mindset. It got me in touch with reality—this is how we navigate life every day, not just in theology. Our beliefs gain or lose strength depending on the information and study we have. Sometimes, we just aren’t that certain about something, and we need to be okay with that. Recognizing this spectrum of certainty is crucial, especially in theology, where mystery often plays a significant role.

3. Finding the Right Hills to Die On

Trustworthy individuals and institutions understand the difference between essential truths that warrant dogmatism and those that don’t. They know which battles are worth fighting and which ones to let go. The difference between Evangelicalism and Fundamentalism is rooted in this very idea. Many people don’t realize that Evangelicalism actually emerged as a rejection of Fundamentalism, which had a tendency to die on every hill. Fundamentalism began with the intent of delineating the fundamentals of the faith, but it eventually became something more rigid, where every issue—whether it was belief in the resurrection of Christ or something as minor as cursing—was treated with the same level of importance.

When I visit a church, one of the first things I do is look at their doctrinal statement. If it’s very long, that’s a red flag for me. It signals that they’re prepared to die on too many hills, and that’s a sign of a rigid, inflexible approach to faith. My study of church history and my fellowship with Christians from diverse backgrounds have taught me that there’s a wide range of opinions on many issues. We need to hold non-essential beliefs more loosely, especially when they’re not clearly delineated in Scripture or the history of the Church as central beliefs. Paul himself understood this. He talked about delivering what was “of first importance.” If Paul recognized that some things are more important than others, then so should we. We need to be clear about what is of first importance, what is of second, and what is of third. It’s not about avoiding all conflict, but about choosing the right battles—the ones that truly matter.

4. Openness to Ignorance

Trustworthy individuals are honest about the limits of their knowledge. They don’t pretend to know everything and are willing to seek input from others, no matter their level of expertise. I’ll never forget the day I was driving around with J.P. Moreland. To me, he’s one of the great giants of the faith—a philosopher whose knowledge and insight far surpass my own. As we were discussing everyday things, he suddenly turned to me and asked a simple question: “What is the Emerging Church?” This was during a time when the Emerging Church movement was gaining a lot of attention, and I was taken aback. Here was J.P. Moreland, one of the greatest Christian philosophers, asking me—a guy who knew a fraction of what he knew—about a topic I figured he must be well-versed in.

That moment stuck with me. It wasn’t that he didn’t know anything about the Emerging Church; it was that he wasn’t afraid to ask questions and seek out the perspectives of others. This humility is a crucial part of building trust. When someone asks for your opinion or seeks to fill in gaps in their own knowledge, they’re not just admitting ignorance—they’re inviting you to contribute to their understanding. It’s a powerful demonstration of trust and openness, one that deepened my respect for him even more.

5. Presenting Opposing Views Fairly

Trustworthy individuals don’t shy away from opposing beliefs; instead, they make an effort to understand and represent these views accurately. They avoid straw man arguments and instead aim to “steel man” the opposition, which means presenting the strongest possible version of the opposing argument before addressing it.

I recently saw an excellent example of this during a discussion that could have become heated. One of the men began by outlining the strengths of the other man’s position. He acknowledged why the other man had come to his conclusions, showing deep understanding and respect for his viewpoint. This approach not only set a positive tone for the discussion but also created an immediate sense of trust. It was clear that this man had done his homework, considered all angles, and was genuinely interested in finding the truth, not just winning an argument. This kind of integrity and fairness in presenting all views is essential for building trust.

6. Sharing Personal Struggles and Failures

Trust is often built not just on what someone knows or how they present themselves, but on how much of their true self they are willing to share. When someone opens up about their failures, pains, and struggles, it creates a deeper connection and trust, because it shows that they are human, just like the rest of us. There’s a pastor I know who is an incredible teacher. He follows all the points I’ve talked about—he’s humble, knowledgeable, and thoughtful in his approach. But there’s something missing, something that makes it hard for me to fully trust him in the way I wish I could. I don’t know anything about his failures, his pains, his struggles. He’s never shared them, at least not in a way that reveals the cracks in his life. And that’s important, because those cracks—the parts of our lives where we struggle the most—are what make us relatable, what connect us to others.

When someone is willing to talk about their reality, their fight to get through life, the doubts they’ve faced, and the failures they’ve experienced, it creates a kind of trust that can’t be built any other way. It’s not about glorifying those struggles, but about acknowledging them, showing that they are part of the journey. Knowing these things about a person—their humanity—often lays the groundwork for all the other points. It’s the background that makes their humility, their openness, and their willingness to admit ignorance all the more credible and trustworthy.