Some Thoughts on Imposter Syndrome 

J. Neil Daniels 

Few burdens weigh more heavily on the aspiring theologian than the quiet, persistent whisper of inadequacy. To write about God, His Word, and His works is to tread on holy ground. The task itself seems to expose our limitations: our knowledge is partial, our reasoning faltering, our prose inadequate to the majesty of the subject. Imposter syndrome, in this context, is not merely a psychological quirk but the deep sense that we are unworthy to put pen to paper in service of so lofty a calling.

Yet perhaps that sense of inadequacy is not wholly misplaced. Scripture reminds us that “we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us” (2 Cor. 4:7). The greatest theologians of the past—Augustine, Calvin, Edwards—confessed their own insufficiency before the mystery of divine truth. If they trembled at the task, should we expect to feel otherwise? The danger lies not in feeling weak, but in allowing that weakness to silence us, rather than driving us back to dependence on God, who delights to use fragile instruments.

In this light, imposter syndrome can be transfigured into a safeguard against pride and a spur to greater faithfulness. The call is not to write as if we were sufficient in ourselves, but to write as servants whose adequacy comes from Christ (2 Cor. 3:5). Every page becomes both a confession of limitation and an act of trust: that God can use even halting words to bear witness to His truth. The fear of being an imposter, rightly chastened, becomes an ally in reminding us that all theological labor is finally an offering laid before the throne of grace.