Thoughts on Evolving Faith

For those of you who don’t know, I became an evangelical Christian when I was around 12 years old. I heard about this man Jesus and his message of love and peace for the world. That appealed to me even at that young age, and my faith has been the focus of my life ever since. I spent my high school years involved in various teen ministries then spent two years in Christian college before going on to a state university.

I’ve always been actively involved in churches, made most of my friends through church and even taught some Bible classes (I preached a couple of times but that was definitely NOT my calling).

In the last few years, since Greg died, I’ve taken this precious time of turmoil to ramble through all the rooms in my faith house. It’s much bigger than I thought. I’ve opened doors I didn’t know even existed, and cleaned stuff out and kind of disinfected. There were a lot of toxins growing on some walls and they needed to be scrubbed clean.

There’s actually an attic in this house where things were stashed that I never wanted to see again or deal with. I thought they were thrown away, but it turns out they were just in storage. They are neatly stacked and best left alone. 

Then there’s the basement… where it’s pretty scary. There are dark spaces here and I’m still afraid every time I venture down there. I’m afraid I might not
make it back up the stairs. But I find myself still descending now and then to see if the demons are still alive. They are. But they haven’t gobbled me up yet so I guess we can coexist okay.

I have found incredible peace in Ireland… which is somewhat surprising since I no longer have a church home and most of my friends here are what they call non-practicing Catholics. Nobody talks religion and I’m okay with that. I see people living religion and that’s better (maybe they’re “practicing” after all). I’m thinking if I can’t maintain my own personal faith in my own personal space, it probably wasn’t mine in the first place, but just a brainwashing. 

I might be wrong about that. But so far, my faith house is still standing and hasn’t been condemned.

It so happens that, as I go through this soul searching season of life (you’ll have yours too, if you haven’t already), I’m
paying closer attention to what’s happening in the larger community. I’m seeing and appreciating the diversity of Christianity. I’m less judgmental. I’m comfortable letting people be themselves, find their own way. I’m taking more responsibility for my own thoughts and behaviors and feeling less burdened by yours.

 

I’m feeling more weighed down by the suffering in the world than the beliefs in the world. It feels like I took a big bite from the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. I spent my early adulthood giving the church too much power to define who I was, cozily nestled inside the dogma bubble. When it burst, I went flying frantically through the air. But now that I’ve landed and dusted myself off, my eyes are wide with wonder. Just looking around is both frightening and exhilarating. Spiritually speaking, I’m not in Kansas anymore.

Maybe all this is what has prepared me for the disillusionment I feel with the evangelical church today. As the Irish would say, I’m GOBSMACKED that such a majority of evangelicals are supporting Donald Trump in the election. I really don’t get it. 

I hear, “I know he’s awful, but we’re all the same in God’s eyes." "He has said some horrible things, but so has everyone at one time or another." "God can use ANYBODY for good." "Nobody’s perfect." "The other guys have issues too." "Yes, he can be very hurtful, but God forgives us all for our sins." "Sometimes he’s really nice and does very good things." "We need him.” 

It occurs to me… this is what women say when they allow their abusive husbands to return home after beating them black and blue. I think it’s called Battered Wife Syndrome. It’s rooted in feelings of FEAR (planted by the abuser) that their world will fall apart without the powerful abuser to take care of them. 

I’ve been rereading the Psalms of David lately. The words David uses to describe his enemies are words my evangelical friends ascribe to Trump. Words like immoral, proud, mocking, scheming, lying. But they say it’s okay because he gives them what they want.

 

Sadly, what they want is not what I want. Guess that means I’m post evangelical. Not sure if I have a label now. I’m still digesting that bite out of the apple. Apparently that tree was well fertilized because I know a lot of people from all over the Christian world have also been snacking on it.

This is the last post where I’ll mention the election. When you visit me (after our vaccinations), we won’t talk politics. I’ll be showing you my favorite ruins, we’ll be climbing fences and running from excitable cows, then raising a glass or two to good health (Sláinte)... at the music session in the Monks. 

We probably won’t talk religion either (unless you want to and then we will).