(You
know what’s fun? When we pretend I haven’t taken a 4-5 month hiatus from
blogging, only to post a random entry that has nothing to do with my previous
entries. Just go with it.)
The
thoughts contained in this post aren’t necessarily new or recent – they’ve been
swirling around in my head for a while – but the decision to go ahead and
articulate them and post them was largely precipitated by a recent post on Rachel Held Evans’ blog. I would suggest reading that before checking my post
out.
+++++++++++++++++++++
Earlier
this year – and it’s not a coincidence that 2012 is an election year – I had a
bit of a realization. I can no longer describe myself as an “evangelical”
Christian. Now, lest my mom read this and begin to pray for my soul (hi, Mom!)
I still very much count myself as an “orthodox” believer: I believe and affirm Christianity
as defined biblically (and historically), can totally sign off on the Nicene
Creed, and consider that I’m theologically in line with much of what
traditional Christianity has always considered to be vital to faith.
But.
I
can’t pretend anymore that I fit in with how the American (Southern? WASP-y? Conservative?
I don’t know) church seems to define being a Christian. I have no idea how “evangelical”
stopped being a theological term and started being a political one. I get
vaguely nauseated by the tagline for the
local (and terrible) Christian radio station: “Safe for the Whole Family.” We’re
living in a time and place where Christians seem to be defined more by their
hate than their love – maybe that’s not new, but it sure is starting to feel
personal – and where “Christian” itself is a label that has no inherent
meaning. And I am puzzled, looking around, to see brothers and sisters who are
more concerned with getting other Christians to agree with them on political
issues instead of living out the transforming power of the Gospel.
I’m
digressing. Oh, gosh, I see another series of posts coming on. I really wasn’t
planning that!
Let’s
focus this one, ok? For this one, what I really want to say is that I have come
to grow increasingly distrustful of easy, pat answers. I have a deep
appreciation and love for the faith tradition in which I grew up, but looking
back I have to acknowledge that there was a lot of legalism going on - and, for the record,
I was absolutely, positively fine with that. After all, rule-following is WAY
easier than prayer and trust. It’s always going to be simpler to tell your youth
group members not to drink rather than explaining the complicated biblical
truth that God created wine to “gladden the hearts of men” (Psalm 104) but that the Bible condemns drunkenness (not to mention that we’re called to obey the
law). It’s always going to be easier to tell dating couples to “leave room for
the Holy Spirit” or have random hand checks on youth group bus trips, instead
of explaining acknowledging that chastity is one of those most difficult things that
they will ever do, but it’s a spiritual call that’s worth it.
As
I get older, though, these checklists of laws become less and less clear because
my spiritual walk stopped being about the fear of breaking a rule and more
about the intention of my heart. I find that there are more gray areas in my
life now, not fewer. And it’s discouraging to me that any public acknowledgment
of these things seems to send some Christians to a place of immediate judgment:
If you’ve stopped thinking that faith and church and fellowship have to look a
certain way, you must be perilously close to heresy, runs their thoughts. But
see, I don’t think I am. And in any case, I don’t think the best response to
that is to try and force me back into that old mold of churchiness, but instead
to have a gracious, loving, and occasionally provocative conversation about what
21st century faith needs to look like. (Some of you are rolling your
eyes at that, or thinking “Faith is faith is faith!” But nope, sorry, it isn’t.
Worship and doctrine are expressed differently through history and it’s silly
to pretend otherwise.)
This
post has gone on a ridiculously long time and I’ve barely scratched the surface
of what I wanted to say. A series it will be! I’m sure most of you can’t wait .
. . all three of you. In the meantime, I’d love to hear your comments and
reactions either here, or on Facebook, or in person.
Jen, you've clearly expressed your thoughts and urgings I know to be of God working in your life. I honestly don't have much to comment because I agree. I'm with you. Feeling that tension more often than I'd like and unsure if it's just me. I'm sure it's not but why are others silent? I hope you've started an engaging conversation though I think I'll find it on your Facebook.
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