Jesus Never Said ‘Just Trust Me, Bro’
What If Faith Isn’t Blind, But Reasonable?
(Substack post for Episode 3 of Weird Hill to Die On)
Growing up, most of what I understood about “faith” came from movies. You know the trope: someone’s on the edge of a breakdown or a breakthrough, and someone else steps in, solemn-eyed, and says, “You just have to believe.”1 It’s a nice moment. Cue swelling strings. Cut to black.
But that version of faith—vague, emotionally dramatic, and completely untethered from anything resembling evidence—isn’t just unhelpful. It’s deeply unbiblical.
In Episode 3 of our new podcast, Weird Hill to Die On, we talk about why “blind faith” makes for a terrible foundation. Not only is it a theological cliché, it’s also one of the fastest ways to lose the trust of thoughtful people who are genuinely trying to make sense of what they believe. Because when faith becomes synonymous with “just shut off your brain and try harder to believe,” we’re not defending Christianity. We’re deforming it.
Faith, as portrayed in Scripture, isn’t a leap into the dark. It’s a response to what God has already made known. That’s a far cry from the slogans or sentimentalism we sometimes encounter in church or media. Scripture presents faith as a step into the light of what God has already made known (Hebrews 11). Faith isn’t a suspension of reason; it’s a response to reality. And one of the clearest examples of that tension between belief and evidence shows up in the story of Thomas.
In John 20, Thomas refuses to believe the other disciples when they tell him they’ve seen the risen Christ: “Unless I see the nail marks in His hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe.” It’s not a neutral request—it’s a willful refusal to trust without a certain kind of immediate, physical proof. And yet, Jesus meets him. He offers the evidence Thomas demanded.
There is no “blind faith” here—Jesus provides real, tangible proof. But He also doesn’t hand out any gold stars for Thomas’ attitude, saying, “Do not disbelieve, but believe.” Rather, He highlights that Thomas’s posture—his demand for control before trust—is not the model to follow. Jesus teaches that there is blessing for those who will believe based on the witness already given, not on proof demanded and delivered directly into their hands. It's both an act of compassion and a call to a deeper kind of trust.
Or consider Hebrews 11, often misunderstood as a celebration of anti-intellectual belief. It begins, “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” That word—evidence—matters. The chapter is a catalogue of people who trusted God because of what He had already done. In this case, their faith wasn’t grounded merely in divine mystery but in the dependable character of God. Abraham didn’t walk blindfolded into the desert because he liked the thrill of risk. He obeyed a God he’d come to know.
Then there’s Isaiah 1:18, where God doesn’t demand silence—He invites reason. “Come now, let us reason together.” That invitation is not to be overlooked. God doesn’t just tolerate honest engagement, He welcomes it.
The kind of faith we’re talking about in this episode isn’t allergic to thinking. It’s not threatened by evidence. It’s not something you muster through sheer force of will.2 It’s something that grows when you know enough about God’s character and action to say, “Even if I don’t have all the answers, I trust You.” Or, as we say on the show: faith isn’t certainty, but, rather, trust built on reasonable evidence; not the elimination of all doubt.
Phoenix said it well in the episode: “You’re not going to get so much evidence that faith becomes unnecessary.” That’s not a cop-out. That’s how trust works. Even in human relationships, there comes a point when we decide to trust, not because we’ve eliminated all uncertainty, but because we’ve seen enough to move forward.
So, what happens when we reduce faith to a blind leap? We set people up to crash. We imply that questions are disloyal. We suggest that emotion is more important than understanding. And eventually, we create a church culture that punishes intellectual honesty and rewards performance.
But Jesus doesn’t say “just believe harder.” His invitation is to, “Come and see.” He shows up. He explains. He stays through the wrestling. He even tells us, “If I am not doing the works of my Father, then do not believe me; but if I do them, even though you do not believe me, believe the works, that you may know and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.” (John 10:37-38, ESV)
—> Believe the evidence.
If you’ve been told that real faith means not asking questions—or if you’ve internalized the idea that trusting God means ignoring your doubts—I hope this episode is a breath of fresh air. You’re not failing at faith because you want reasons. You’re not spiritually inferior because you hesitate. And you’re not alone.
Faith isn’t a vibe. It’s not a fragile mood held together by verses and wishful thinking. Faith is more like a verdict.3 It is a verdict based on what I’ve seen, heard, experienced, and wrestled with. I believe God is who He says He is…and I’ll keep walking, even with questions in hand.
You can listen to, or watch, Episode 3, “Is Faith Blind?”, on Spotify, Amazon Music, and YouTube.
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Because I’m a Gen X’er, I’m thinking of the movie, “Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade.”
Back to Indiana Jones and the moment he steps off the cliff onto the seemingly invisible bridge…a force of will scenario.
YES! 1000xs YES!!!!!!