Friday, June 22, 2012

Guest Post: Belonging, Confidence and Indoctrination - How the church drew me in

Today's guest post is from Recovering Agnostic.  You can find his blog here and you can find him on twitter at @RecAgnostic.  He's a smart, fair minded guy - give him a read - you won't be disappointed!

I write a lot about faith and the process of losing it, but I'm also interested in how faith begins, where it comes from, and how it can be affected by external factors. I've been considering how people get drawn into churches not so much because they give intellectual assent to a list of beliefs, but because they're offered support and affirmation at low points in their lives. Looking back on my life, a can definitely see elements of my journey which fit this pattern.

I grew up within the church, holding a sort of nice, British Christian belief by default - nothing to scare the horses, but a sort of non-realist liberalish establishment religion. What brought me to the point of serious commitment to a far more conservative belief (and, looking back, messed up my life in various subtle ways) was a series of personal difficulties and crises.

It all came about while I was at university, where the problems came thick and fast. First was the loneliness and culture shock of university itself. That led me to a couple of church services, but to be honest I didn't have much interest in them. While the familiarity was welcome, they seemed much like the dry, tired religion that had bored me to tears for much of my life. Then I began to have difficulties with my flatmates, and finally a friend died in tragic circumstances. All of that finally drove me to the Christian Union.

In my vulnerable state, the CU seemed to be just what I was looking for. It had a community feel which gave me a sense of belonging, and I got to feel like part of something important. University CUs are incredibly prone to overblown ideas of some big "move of God" just around the corner, and this one was no exception, even if it was quite sane compared to most. But people were all very nice and encouraging, and for a shy, unsettled and (to be honest) rather gauche young student, it was a very appealing prospect.

If I'd been more confident, I'm sure I'd have reacted very differently, and may never have even passed through the door, but I was drawn in easily. I was introduced to the idea of praying and "sharing" in small groups, something that I got used to even though it seemed entirely alien and quite uncomfortable to me, and I heard a lot of inspiring talks about things we should be doing, and things that would (we were promised) happen very soon. I lacked the confidence to question anything, but it was so exciting that I didn't really want to. More than that, I didn't really seem to have anywhere else to go by this point. This was my new home.

So I stuck with it, never seriously imagining any other options. I made friends, got a lot of support and affirmation for saying or doing the right things, spent more and more time with one group or another, and felt the sort of welcome that I imagine must have been extended to the Prodigal Son or the Lost Sheep. I don't want to imply that I simply accepted everything I was told, but while some people's beliefs were clearly too extreme for me to stomach, I fitted easily and enthusiastically into mainstream CU doctrine, and my convert's zeal even went so far as to scorn people with the vague beliefs I'd only just discarded.

Over time, Christianity in general and the CU in particular became pretty much my whole life. The CU more or less constituted my whole circle of friends, but the impact went way beyond a sort of social support group. I took to spending up to an hour at a time in prayer and Bible study (not such a huge sacrifice for a student, I suppose), and attending 8am prayer meetings (much more problematic). I took less and less interest in my studies, mainly because I seriously imagined that I'd go into full-time Christian ministry after graduation. I was Christian first, everything else second.

The pattern continued with my church once I left university. They had a few strange doctrines, and often did fairly ordinary things in odd ways, but they weren't nearly as odd as some churches I tried, and more importantly, they were very relaxed, friendly and welcoming. As before, I felt at home and wanted approval, so my questioning instincts were reined in and I learnt to fit in with the prevailing norms. Again, I never consciously suppressed disagreement, but a lot of questions and differences were smoothed over in a search for affirmation.
A few things contributed to my eventual withdrawal to the fringes of that church and then to a different church altogether. The biggest factor was probably that I had a job, which ensured that I gained a lot in confidence and had a new circle of friends outside the church. Most importantly, it kept me busy during the week, so my previously obsessive involvement with church and CU activities was limited. There were also a couple of times when previous commitments made it impossible to get involved in church activities which might have drawn me back in.

There were points in all this where I considered and revised my beliefs, and in fact one of the things that finally drew me back out of the church was my increasingly liberal position on homosexuality, but the one thing above all else that determined where I ended up was my need for support. I got deeper into the church and CU when my need was great, and only began to emerge as I developed alternative sources of self-esteem and confidence.
I want to be absolutely clear that this doesn't reflect in any way on any of the people in the church, CU or anywhere else. I don't believe there was any deliberate attempt to encourage conformity by preying on insecurities, and certainly not on a wide scale. It's possible that there was subconscious learnt behaviour to behave in a certain way towards vulnerable people because it tended to get results, but I think it was just genuine friendliness and enthusiasm for new members. For all that, though, it frightens me how easy it was to be drawn in just by a few friendly faces.

Whenever I start wondering how people get drawn into seriously weird cults, I think about how fragile my mental state was in hindsight, and how I could have gone along with almost anything if it was pushed in the right way. I was just lucky that I didn't end up falling in with a really strange group.

Friday, June 15, 2012

Guest Post: Wrestling With Faith

Today's post is from Courtney Warren.  You can find her on Twitter as @CDub30 and you can find her blog here. Check it out!

 It's easy to write about church dysfunction because it allows me to place the blame for my pain primarily on something outside of myself. When I write about how much the church as an institution has hurt me, has really scarred my soul in some ways, it makes it easy to forget how the church is made up of wounded people who usually cannot see that they are bleeding out and dying.

Writing about doubting my faith? That’s such a vulnerable topic. It means I am displaying to you the ways in which I question the authorities in my life. I’m showing you my scars, my wounds from the war that is being fought for a life fully lived. Most of these wounds point to how I wanted the church to validate me as a woman in some way, and the scars points to the fact that my deepest longing of validation did not happen.

Doubting my faith? Yes, I had doubts. Hell, I have doubts, and I believe that I will always have doubts, but I also find that to be a healthier place than blindly following a specific denominations teachings.

I wrestle with the fact that I truly believe that I have walked away from church, and yet I am in graduate school at a seminary.

I find it ironic that I hate the God of my youth but find such love and grace in the God my school teaches about. I really want to know this God.

It’s funny how angry I can be at a religion that I cannot seem to fully shake.

There are so many days that I feel the pain of Jacob [Genesis 32:22-31] because in the darkest times of my life I isolate myself and wait for God to show up; then, we wrestle. This is not the wrestle that you would do with a child, or any for of wrestling for entertainment, but a wrestle for survival. There are always tears, there is always pain, and I will forever walk with a limp because faith is messy.

Faith is made in the throwing of plates against a wall in rage because you’ve just received horrible, heartbreaking news.

Faith is made in the weeping into your pillow because words won’t do justice to the pain you feel.

Faith is made in the deep confusion of trying to make God fit into our human-made boxes with our clearly defined labels.

Faith is made in the midst of the doubting, in the anger, in the sorrow, in the rubble of what you thought your life would be while life actually moves at light-speed towards what it is.

Faith is made in the wrestling and faith is lived out with a limp, because that limp is a reminder that we met with the Divine Creator.

So where does the church fit in to my current struggles? The honest answer is that I don’t want it to. There is so much pain and anger still towards the church from myself that I cannot fathom being a part of a faith community again. My hope is that churches would stop teaching such a definitive understanding of God and allow space for mystery, for emotion, for doubt; that the church would stop claiming to have all the answers and would allow room for conversation rather than debate. My hope is that one day I will find a community of faith where my scars will not asked to be hidden so that others can be comfortable but that all of who I am, my whole story, could be loved and honored. My hope is that the church would be less like an institution and more like Jesus, full of radical love, grace, forgiveness, and desire with more stories and parables than answers and rigid boundaries.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

You cant have a ballroom dance in a mosh pit.

This post is linked to The Week of Mutuality that Rachel Held Evans is hosting at her blog this week.
In the interest of full disclosure: my wife and I have been married eleven years.  Not newlyweds, not experts either.  We have two daughters, age four and one. 

Contrary to popular belief, marriage should not be a ballroom dance, in which one person leads all the time.  Why?  Because life is not a ballroom.  It's a mosh pit.  People are throwing elbows, the guy next to you is whacked out of his gourd on ecstasy and keeps trying to fondle your earlobes, and the bathroom...the less said about the bathroom the better.

And let me explode another myth: marriage is not fifty/fifty.  It is not even, as Dr. Phil says, 100/100 (though that's a noble goal).  It's a combination of however much energy each person has at any given moment.  That could be fifty/fifty, 100/100, 60/40, 3/97 or 97/3.  It's however much you can put in while holding down a job, taking care of kids, battling an illness (yours or someone elses) and dealing with crazy in-laws and a car with a squeal that just wont go away regardless of how many times you take it to the mechanic.  The rest is grace.

Marriage is messy and complicated because life is messy and complicated..  It requires give and take.  It requires compromise.  And perhaps a stiff drink.

Complementarians, and conservatives (especially Christian conservatives), don't like compromise, because to them it's not necessary.  Every situation has a clear wrong answer and right answer.  Just choose the right one, and compromising isn't necessary! If compromise is needed, that implies that there's not a clear right answer that can be applied to every situation.
 
My father-in-law (a conservative Baptist) once told my wife that she would be "divorced and living in the gutter by the time she was thirty." This was because she was a "contentious woman" who wouldn't allow a man to "lead her", which is in Opposition To The Bible.

After all, he posited, if there was no leader in the home, who makes a decision when a consensus can't be reached?  (This is one area where polygamists have a clear advantage, as long as they have an odd number of spouses).

It's a valid question.  Frequently how it plays out for us is like so: one of us wants to change something, the other wants to keep it the same.  In the event that a consensus can't be reached, the one wanting to keep things the same usually wins by default.   For example, say my wife wants to move to the Midwest and I want to stay in Massachusetts (a true story from ten years ago).  We staid in Massachusetts, not because I was the man, but because we were already there and my wife wasn't going to force the issue.  (We eventually moved to the Midwest when circumstances changed and we both agreed it was for the best).

But what if both parties want a change, and you can't agree on what the change should be?  My wife and I have struggled since day one of our marriage to come up with a workable budget.  We have different ideas on how money should be managed, although our goals are the same.  I'll be honest - if either one of us had simply ceded control of financial matters to the other party, things would have been much easier.

But would they have been better?

I don't think so.  Working together toward a budget has taught us how to communicate.  And, more importantly, how to compromise.  The budget we have today isn't complete, but it's getting there.  And it's a hybrid system that's been put together with input from both of us.  We compromised.

I won't say our system is perfect. After all, the Bible says that "a good compromise leaves everyone angry."

Wait, sorry - that's not from the Bible, it's from Calvin and Hobbes (no, not THAT Calvin).  But it's true.  A compromise is rarely as satisfying as getting your own way.  And there have been times when we've gotten temporarily stuck because we can't find a compromise that works. 

But that's OK.

I'm not scared of getting stuck as long as my wife is by my side.

Friday, June 1, 2012

Will the real Christians please stand up?

I used to think I was a Real Christian.  Now I don't know if such a creature exists.

I've been Catholic.  I've been Protestant.  I'm told there are other flavors, but at this point, I just don't care.

If there's a God, it would be great to get to know it.  But judging by the dizzying array of religions that humans have created, said God is not interested in knowing us.  Or in correcting any misconceptions we may have about it.

If someone started a rumor that I thought homosexuals should be put to death, I would correct that misconception.

If someone said "Heretic Husband told me he will give $1,000 to anyone who gives me $100!" I would correct that person.

If I were the caretaker of the afterlife, and planned on splitting all of humanity into two groups, one group receiving eternal paradise and the other eternal damnation, I would make damn sure that everyone knew exactly what was required to be in the former group and not the latter.

I would certainly not leave cryptic instructions written in Hebrew and Aramaic and expect people to figure it out.

But enough about God, this post is about Christians.

The trouble with being a Real Christian is that anyone can make up their own definition of what a Christian is.  There's no standard.  

A "meter" is defined as the distance traveled by light in a vacuum during a time interval of 1 ⁄ 299,792,458 of a second".  Weird, but hey, it's a standard.  If I try to say that a meter is the distance from my house to the dumpster, I'd be wrong.  A vegetarian is someone who doesn't eat meat.  If I say "I'm a vegetarian, but I love to eat steak", I'd be wrong.

What is the standard for being a Christian?  No one can agree.  Now I know what some of you are going to say - "Heretic Husband, just look in the Bible!  IT'S ALL THERE!!!"

Well, let's look at it then.  We'll use the NIV (because everyone can at least agree on which translation of the Bible to use, right?)

If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. 

Well that seems easy enough.

James 2:17


14 What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? 15 Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. 16 If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? 17 In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

Huh.  So faith by itself will save me, as long as it's not by itself.

Ephesians 2:8-9 

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith —and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. 

Faith.  Got it.

Matthew 25:41-43

41 “Then he [God] will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 42 For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43 I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’ 

Works.  Got it.

Now many people who accept that the Bible is God's Word, With NO Errors Or Contradictions Of Any Kind Despite What Heretic Husband (AKA Jerkface) Says, will cry foul.  They will accuse me of proof texting.  Of ripping innocent verses from the nurturing arms of their context.  They'll say "But if you have REAL FAITH, it will CAUSE action!"  In other words, it's not the actions that are your ticket into Heaven, it's the faith.  But you can tell if someone has real faith because that faith will produce action.

Fair enough. What kind of works will it produce?

18 A certain ruler asked him [Jesus], “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

19 “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone.

I thought Jesus WAS God?
 
20 You know the commandments: ‘You shall not commit adultery, you shall not murder, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother.’[a]
21 “All these I have kept since I was a boy,” he said.

Works.  Check.
 
22 When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

Wait, is that even IN the Old Testament?
 
23 When he heard this, he became very sad, because he was very wealthy. 24 Jesus looked at him and said, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God! 25 Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
26 Those who heard this asked, “Who then can be saved?”
27 Jesus replied, “What is impossible with man is possible with God.”

Ok, maybe that refers to faith...
 
Ok, so according to that story I have to give away everything I own.  I'm sure my wife will be on board with that.  After all, Jesus commanded it, right?

"DUH Heretic Husband!  Jesus was talking to ONE GUY, not everyone throughout all time!!"  (Geez, my imaginary readers are really rude).

Well, that's a fair point.

1 Timothy 2:11-14

11 A woman[a] should learn in quietness and full submission. 12 I do not permit a woman to teach or 
to assume authority over a man;[b] she must be quiet. 13 For Adam was formed first, then Eve.  
14 And Adam was not the one deceived; it was the woman who was deceived and became a sinner. 

So if what Jesus said to that ruler doesn't apply to everyone, what Timothy is 
saying here certainly doesn't apply to 21st century American society, right?  
It's fine for women to be pastors, right?

Oh, that one applies to everyone?  Sorry, my mistake.

Now some would say (quite reasonably) that neither verse applies to everyone.
But if that's the case, then what do we use as a standard of what a Christian is?  

If the Bible is confusing, and God is silent, then how do we define a Christian? 

If a word has no definition, what's the point of it?

The reality is, everyone makes up their own definition and tries to live up to it the 
best they can.  But many Christians don't want to hear that (I didn't).  They want
to hear that their definition comes straight from God.

And honestly, who can blame them?  After all, one thing that most, I daresay all, 
Christians agree on, is that there are eternal consequences to our actions.  If
 that's the case I would certainly want to make sure that my definition is correct.

Well, hey!  As long as we're all making up our own definitions, I'll make up one of my
own:

Christian (noun): Someone who isn't sure if there's a God or an afterlife, and is unsure 
about the characteristics of said hypothetical God and afterlife.  Always willing to talk,
always willing to reexamine their beliefs.  Hilarious blog optional.

I guess I'm a Christian.