Saturday, 15 October 2016

Faith Journey (part 9)

The following section is probably unnecessary if you have read, meditated upon, and inwardly digested my previous posts. However, there are a number of conclusions believers may prematurely arrive at when first encountering my heretical and apostate views. I try to answer them here.

Are you angry at the church? Have you been hurt in some way? I can honestly say that my critique of Christian faith has not been fueled by anger at the institution, or particular Christians, or by some personal hurt or misfortune. Personally, I have been treated very well by the church; I will always owe a debt of gratitude for the support of the LCA and all the wonderful people within it. Some aspects of what happened after I shared my views with church leadership were disappointing, but at the same time I also received unexpected support from within the church. But the main point is this: my critique of Christian belief did not stem from personal injury or offense.  

Are you more generally offended by the church’s moral track record? I don't deny that the churches have been culpable in many ways over the centuries and the cause of considerable evil; but I also recognize that churches and Christians have been the source of immense good. Once again, this has not been the primary reason for arriving at my conclusions.

Are you trying to intellectualize what is basically a spiritual problem? Is my unbelief the result of hardness of heart, of proud insubordination and unwillingness to submit to God and his word? Obviously, the word 'unbelief' has for many Christians this tone of 'refusal', 'rejection' or 'hostility', and so is naturally regarded as a moral or spiritual failure. But such a conclusion only makes sense within the thought-world of faith, so if one thinks that of me, so be it. But I don’t see it that way.

Do you want to break free from the constraints of Christian morality? Once again, this is not the case. There are many motivations and rewards for resisting selfishness and striving to look to the interests of others. Not only is there the continuing influence of the ethical framework that has formed me, there are also simple human reasons for wishing to live with personal integrity and mutual goodwill. And when it comes to the inner struggle, which is not just the preserve of Christian experience, I suspect that our evolutionary heritage and cultural/linguistic formation provides a better foundation for understanding it than the myth of original perfection, original sin, or the temptations of Satan.

Are you having trouble accepting grace and forgiveness? That is, in being unable to accept Christ's free and undeserved mercy, have I shut my heart to God altogether? Even if this was the case, it's entirely irrelevant to the reasons I've been discussing. Even if I do have a 'spiritual problem', it in no way changes what I regard as the implausibility of traditional claims about Jesus, the bible, history, and so on. It's interesting to note that of the various de-conversion accounts I've read, you get the full range of human experience – those whose loss of faith was tied up with moral failure and personal animus, and the very opposite, those whose integrity and dignity remained steadfast even as their faith slowly unravelled.

Were you converted by New Atheists, which you wrote about in The Lutheran? Simple answer again is no. Most of my ideas were coming together by the time I got to writing that series. Furthermore, many New Atheist arguments were of quite poor quality. The truth is, most of my conclusions were arrived at by reading books on biblical scholarship and contemporary Christian theology in our own ALC library.

Do you think that you are smarter than everyone else? Are you accusing Christians of stupidity? Not at all. For a start, the willingness to subject our beliefs to scrutiny, and the forces claiming our loyalty, are often quite independent of our intellectual abilities (this is a prime example of where the New Atheists are mistaken, imagining believers to be bereft of intelligence). But while I don’t claim to be cleverer than others, I can say that I have informed myself to a degree that many believers would not be willing to do. I have read, researched, and wrestled with these issues, alone and with others, as much as is humanly possible. And it also seems to be the case that some believers will resist, misrepresent or caricature anything they fear may threaten their faith – a defensive action that speaks volumes, it seems.

Is it now your mission to convert others to unbelief? Once again, the answer is no. I respect the faith and worldviews of believers, and do not wish to belittle anyone for their views and practices. As I discussed above, I believe that (even as a human phenomenon) faith and church have formed the people I know, and usually for the better. Besides, having been an insider to faith for many years (most of my life, actually) I recognize the sense it makes when you are inside that world of faith. At the same time, I will welcome honest and frank discussion with anyone who wants to understand my position.

Are your current views due to burnout?  I would not say that my views and conclusions were due to burnout. For most of my time at ALC, I was motivated and energetic. However, it’s probably true that I definitely was heading for burnout, due to the extra pressure of having to live with, or somehow trying to resolve, all these things. In effect, I had to juggle three balls: one was my ALC and LCA work, another was my doctorate, and the third was my conflict of beliefs. The first two were manageable – but the third ball was really doing me in.

In conclusion
No doubt there are many other ways my change of thinking and commitments could be construed and interpreted, and that’s OK. Everyone has to interpret the world around them in terms of their own sense of reality, and that means you might interpret what I’m saying in terms of Christian faith and Lutheran spiritual dynamics – how could you do otherwise? On the other hand, what I’ve described might make perfect sense to you, given the ‘world’ you live in.

Anyway, I can honestly say that I am comfortable with letting go of confessions and dogmas that I can no longer make myself believe, including the realization that I don’t have anything quite so comprehensive or venerable to replace it with. That in itself is amazing, because I remember a time when I regarded ‘losing the faith’ as the worst possible thing that could happen to a Christian – which is a fear the faith itself inculcates. But in truth, there is immense freedom in finally owning up to what you do and don’t believe, and knowing that although you might be quite mistaken about some things, at least you are being real.


All the same, the practical implications of all this were not at all easy. In fact, the next 15 months or so were some of the more challenging I’ve ever faced, and I’ll wrap my faith journey up in my last post by briefly recounting them.

Faith Journey (Part 8)

As this personal journey draws near to the present, or at least to where it started with A Short Statement of ‘Belief’(Blog post 4/10/15), I provide a snapshot of where I was in early 2015 and what I ended up sharing with the leadership of the LCA. Since it’s not unlike where I’m at now in my worldview, I’ve let some sections remain in present tense…

What do I believe?

So what have I turned into, if my worldview is no longer informed and sustained by Christian beliefs? Although I agree with atheism on many points, I’m not comfortable with the definitive label ‘atheist’ – it seems a little too doctrinaire in its own way, it reduces the element of cosmic mystery to materialist naturalism, and on a personal level, many people I know and love react quite adversely to the ‘A’ word. In any case, I think that ‘agnostic’ approximates my current position, and ‘free thinker’ comes close to describing my ideal – although I recognize that none of us are ‘free’ in any absolute sense, but products of our time, place and circumstance. The point is that I have not submitted to another ‘system’ of belief, nor have I embraced another ‘gospel’. For it’s not just my beliefs that have changed, but my very approach to believing. My manner of engaging with reality has a far greater degree of hesitancy, contingency, and willingness to revise (including what I write here). Obviously there is a broad worldview and consensus of opinions that I find persuasive, but one thing I do not wish to be or become is unbendingly dogmatic. 

In fact, I am learning that it is absolutely OK not to know, and that the deepest mysteries of life will most likely always elude us. I’m not saying we should give up trying to understand – just that we continually reassess what we believe, no matter how sacred that inherited wisdom is. And because there are many sources of knowledge and guidance to help us assess what is real and good, I for one cannot commit myself to scriptures and saviours claiming to be (or considered to be) definitive, universal and eternal. 

Hopefully you can see that this is not some knee jerk reaction to our overly dogmatic past (like when the fundamentalist Christian overnight becomes a fundamentalist atheist). For my journey has included periods of engagement with catholic and ecumenical kinds of orthodoxy, and more recently, post-critical and progressive/liberal constructions of Christian faith. But as I have also discovered, it takes a particular kind of personality to commit your life to a set of symbols when you know full well that’s all they are (See blog post 10/7/16). Some can live and move and have their being in such a Christian world, although I suspect that family ties, traditional loyalties, and economic realities probably play a larger role than admitted. But my temperament doesn’t seem to work that way, and I feel unable to fully enter into the ‘as if’ mode of hypothetical belief for the sake of belonging to a community.

But even if I don’t engage with the faith personally, might not Christianity continue to play an important role in the broader local and global community? I believe this is the case. As I see it, Christianity will continue to be immensely successful and self-validating, at least in the foreseeable future. This is especially as it opens up to the global south, where intellectual culture has not passed through same travails as in the west. Christian faith, I imagine, will continue to meet personal needs, give meaning, and provide a stable pattern for negotiating what can be a scary and chaotic world. Prayer and spirituality will continue to anchor personal lives, and public worship will continue to be the backbone of believing communities. Against Christopher Hitchens, I agree with Tony Blair that religion will be, or at least can be, a force for good, despite its role in various conflicts around the world. I for one know that the Christian matrix of beliefs and practices can provide a powerful motivator to strive against our ingrained selfishness – although I no longer believe that only Christianity can effectively do this. Sadly, many who don’t belong to a religious tradition may well live aimless and self-destructive lives, and yes, much contemporary life is extremely shallow, based as it is on consumerism and entertainment (i.e., bread and circus). By contrast, many will discover that Christianity can supply an exceedingly comprehensive, holistic and road tested framework for life – one that works at many levels.

[By the way, if reports are true that many Muslims in Europe are converting to Christianity – and I’m not sure if this is anything more than anecdotal – then I think that this too can be understood as a purely human phenomenon, and not some special work of providence. After all, individuals and communities do change, sometimes gradually, sometimes dramatically. It’s what happens.]

Who knows, Christianity might even continue to be a vibrant intellectual tradition, but if so, I suspect this will be to the degree that it appropriates contemporary scientific, psychological and philosophical insights. That is, while Christianity will absorb or adapt to new forms of secular knowledge, will these branches of knowledge in turn be enriched by specifically Christian beliefs? Somehow, I doubt it. But coming back to the local scene, whether or not LCA membership will catch up with even commonly accepted mainstream biblical scholarship remains to be seen. For the present, it seems that our clergy are doing a fine job in protecting them from uncomfortable truths the academic community has known for decades.

Anyway, the point of sharing all this was (and still is) to show that the path I was taking (and the pastures I was leaving) did not stem from simplistic idealism. I knew then, as I do now, that the existential grass is not greener on the other side. I also recognize that in practical terms, Christianity has resources for social and individual wellbeing that secularism often cannot match. Many thoughtful non-believers recognize this to be the case, without thereby subscribing to such religious beliefs.

And yet, strangely enough, it felt that the decisions I was then making were more ‘religious’ (that is, existentially significant) than if I opted for a life of ecclesial and academic routine. It was in leaving, rather than submitting and staying, that I came to experience such biblical images of leaving one’s tribal and familial loyalties, of taking up one’s cross, and of risking the loss of all that had made me who I am.


In the next post I’ll answer some possible misunderstandings that might have arisen in people’s minds as to why I left the ministry; and then a final post will rapidly bring the stages of my journey up to the present.