It wasn't long ago I was the person in this drawing. |
I spent the first 25 years of my life as an independent,
fundamentalist, King James Bible believing Baptist. I knew Baptist theology inside out and
believed what I was supposed to believe—that is until the answers I had been taught no
longer seemed sufficient for the questions that life was throwing at me. Life began to reshape my theology.
I’ve spent lots of time in conservative churches since I “left
the faith,” and in that time I’ve heard a lot of theology that I didn’t agree
with. I’ve heard things that made me want to jump out of my pew and leave the
auditorium had it not been for the people sitting on either side of me. More often than not, my “coexist” bumper sticker
and I have been extremely out of place.
Yet, being a former fundamentalist Baptist, I seem to have a
soft spot in my heart for religious conservatives. During my time at a “liberal”
seminary I have often found myself defending fundamentalists during discussions
rather than criticizing (trust me; I have plenty of negative things I could
say). Similarly, I also tend to not like
when others ridicule the faith and beliefs of conservatives; perhaps because I
still have so many friends and family members who still align themselves with
those views. One critique in specific I
tend to see over and over again is regarding the “bad theology” of
fundamentalists/ conservatives.
Please understand, I’m not admitting to a mea culpa or
wishing I could go back to the way things were—no, not at all. Fundamentalist
theology has serious problems in my opinion.
It is inconsistent, illogical, anti-intellectual, and downright
heartless at times. An excellent blogger
I’ve recently started following, Rachel
Held Evans, recently wrote a good piece
to this point. Yet, as much as I
completely agree with what she and others say, that soft spot still remains
(and I’d bet Held Evans would admit the same).
I think it’s the
loyal, devoted faith of these people that I respect. I’m reminded of a time I saw Christian
musician Stephen Curtis Chapman in concert.
Performing after the tragic
death of his 5 year old daughter, he shared that in the aftermath he went
through a time where he questioned his faith. He had to decide whether or not
he was going to be true to what he believed in spite of the tragedy that had
befallen his family. Chapman shared that
in the face of the pain and suffering, he still believed.
How can you call this “bad theology?” This is a man who has
suffered more than most can comprehend, for what can be worse than for a parent
than to bury their own child? I think
also of my own faith journey, how in the face of circumstances that seem
trivial to this man’s suffering, my theology began to change
drastically—but “suffering” isn’t
something to be compared amongst individuals (“my scar is worse than yours”)
and neither do I regret my own religious choices—but the respect still remains.
This is what I think. Theology is only bad if it doesn’t
work for you. The theology I heard for
so long growing up doesn’t work for me anymore. Yet I imagine that the vast majority
of those who have sat in the pews with me have been comforted by these
beliefs. But I offer this word of
caution, for just because certain beliefs or theology works for you doesn’t mean
it will work for everyone else. Some
might say theology is about believing the right things (I would disagree), but
you’ve got to be able to sleep at night. So, as simplistic and shallow as this
might sound, I mean it from the bottom of my heart—believe whatever you need to
believe. I’ll respect you’re theology,
all I ask is the same in return.
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