The courage to be is rooted in the God who appears when God has

“The courage to be is rooted in the God who appears when God has disappeared in the anxiety of doubt.” So wrote Paul Tillich, the great theologian and philosopher of the twentieth century, a man who sought not blind faith, but faith reborn in the fires of questioning. His words pierce like a sword through the veils of despair, for they speak to that sacred moment when belief falters, when the soul trembles before the abyss of uncertainty. In this dark hour, Tillich tells us, when God seems to vanish and all meaning dissolves into silence, it is precisely there—within the anxiety of doubt—that a deeper, truer God reveals Himself. The courage to be, the strength to exist in spite of fear, is born from that hidden encounter.

Tillich lived through an age of collapse. He witnessed the devastation of war, the rise of tyranny, and the shattering of old certainties. The world he knew was one where faith had been wounded—where reason mocked religion, and religion too often betrayed reason. In such an age, men felt abandoned not only by society but by heaven itself. It was from this anguish that Tillich wrote The Courage to Be. He understood that to live fully, one must face the anxiety of being—the fear of meaninglessness, of death, of isolation. And yet, within that fear lies the seed of rebirth, for it drives us to seek the God beyond God—not the image we once worshiped, but the eternal ground of being that sustains us even when our faith crumbles.

To say that God appears when God has disappeared is to recognize the mystery of transformation that dwells within the soul. When the images of faith fade, when the words we once clung to lose their power, something greater stirs in the silence. The true divine presence does not flee from our doubt; it is revealed through it. Just as a seed must die to sprout, so must our old certainties perish for new life to arise. The courage to be is not the absence of fear—it is the triumph of spirit over the emptiness that fear unveils. It is to stand, trembling yet steadfast, and to say: “Even when I see nothing, I will still be.”

Consider the story of Job, that ancient sufferer whose faith was tested to the edge of despair. He lost his wealth, his family, his health, and even the favor of heaven seemed withdrawn. His friends accused him, his prayers returned unanswered. Yet in that desolation, when the God of comfort disappeared, Job encountered the God of reality—the living presence that exists beyond human reason or reward. From the ashes of his ruin, Job found not the God he expected, but the God who is. His courage to stand in silence before mystery became his salvation. Job’s trial is the eternal image of Tillich’s truth: that faith reborn from doubt is stronger than faith untested.

The anxiety of doubt is not a curse—it is the crucible of awakening. It strips away illusions and reveals what cannot be destroyed. To believe without question is to build on sand; to believe after doubt is to stand upon rock. When we face the loss of meaning, the collapse of our certainties, we are given the opportunity to discover a faith that does not depend on proof, a strength that is not borrowed from circumstance. This is the courage to be—to affirm life even when it feels hollow, to trust in being itself when every reason for hope has fallen away.

Such courage is not born of pride, but of surrender. It comes when the soul ceases to cling to what it cannot hold and opens itself to what it cannot see. The God who appears in doubt is not the distant ruler of the heavens, but the quiet pulse of existence that moves within us all. To feel this God is to know that we are never truly alone, even in despair. It is to sense that love, meaning, and being itself are one, and that we partake in them by the very act of enduring. In that endurance, the human spirit touches the divine.

So let this teaching be carried into every heart: Do not fear your doubt. Do not curse the nights when faith seems dead, for they are the soil from which deeper faith is born. When anxiety grips you, when the world feels void of purpose, stand firm. Breathe. Listen to the silence, for within it speaks the eternal voice that cannot die. The courage to be is not the courage of conquest, but of persistence—the quiet, unyielding decision to exist, to love, to believe, even when the heavens are dark. And in that moment of steadfast being, when you stand alone yet unbroken, you will discover, as Tillich did, that God never truly disappeared—He was waiting within your doubt, ready to reveal the strength that no despair can overcome.