Lumped in Together


Alisa Childers wrote a really interesting article about progressive Christians, and it really helped me to understand why I keep getting lumped in with progressive Christians-while not considering myself to be one.

The division on the right was by me, to emphasize the following:

  1. Critique: While rejecting theology and doctrine is dangerous and leads to heresy (I strongly hold to all of these, btw), there is a difference between the left side and the right side bottom two things. Putting them together like this elevates them to equal status. There will always be debate about what is the major and what is the minor. Dividing it like this allows for anyone who disagrees with them on one PART of one of the things on the right side to be lumped in with someone who wouldn’t even call themselves a Christian. I have personally found that just from not voting or agreeing with some Republican stances on issues, it is assumed that I am a progressive Christian and a Democrat.

  2. Complaint: I feel like I’ve often been thrown out of the “Loving God/being Christian” group which I fully identify with, for the deadly sin of not agreeing completely with—or disagreeing with—the way some people condemn the last two items on the right side.

  3. Cry: I, and many people I know, often feel like homeless Christians, as many in our home (ie. church) don’t want us, but we know our Father still does. I feel specifically called to serve/mourn/love/be with those who are dealing with issues and trauma related to those last two items on the right side—in many cases—they are my family. LGBTQ and Race issues are not as black and white as many people want to make them. They are not the atonement or trinity, where you believe it or don’t. And they are certainly not Republican v. Democrat. I’ve seen way too many people who have had honest questions about LGBTQ and Race issues thrown to the dogs and declared heretics until unfortunately, they decided to become those heretics after all.

After writing this blog, my friend asked me to read Alisa Childers book “Another Gospel?” as it had really blessed her. I balked. I’d already seen where Alisa had drawn the lines online—why would I want to read her book? I had seen another article she posted “Why we should not redeem ‘Deconstruction'.’ Perhaps it was clickbait—but the huge spectrum of ‘deconstruction’—much of which I’ve felt myself (and a Holy Post podcast #497 that I felt better used the term “unbundling the prepackaged beliefs handed down to me” or something like that) and declaring it past the redemptive hand of God…well…it just left a bad taste in my mouth.

I voiced my concerns, and read the book for the good discussions with a friend (may all of us be blessed with such friends!). I liked the book much more than her articles. It is more like sitting down and getting more of the story, which almost always helps, and brings humanity back into stiff social media. I was surprised with how much I connected with her as a person. I definitely agree with her premise of how important it is to know what you believe and why, and to study past people who’ve proven through their lives that they are trustworthy (ie, probably dead now) and what they believe instead of being caught up in current fads that come and go over time.

While I love good questions, her quote of G.K. Chesterton hit it well: “Merely having an open mind is nothing. The object of opening the mind, as of opening the mouth, is to shut it again on something solid.” I can clearly see that Alisa Childers is someone that needs to study and learn to come to something solid. Honestly, I don’t need as many facts (I think that is a personality difference). What has been most important to me is consistently and constantly returning to the simple truth of God’s heart. “I don’t know the answer to this question—and it makes God look really bad—but I know there is an answer, and I know God is good and I trust Him, whether or not I ever discover the answer to that question.”

Life would simply be too exhausting for me to not feel settled until I found the answers. I trust God knows, and the answer reveals what I know: that I can trust God’s heart. This lets me sleep well at night.

Alisa herself talks about how she had to deconstruct to reconstruct in her book (the article seems to be an overreaction—at least the title). I do think deconstruction can be an important tool, if it is used for the purpose of reconstructing. If it is used just to destroy, or to vindicate (ie. “I deconstructed to get rid of those pesky verses about sexuality”), then it is, as Alisa says, a dangerous tool that is not helpful in any way. I have, unfortunately, seen many friends go from asking questions (important and useful) to walking away from Christ. It hurts my heart.

I was so grateful for a sermon I heard, while processing all of this. It asked: “What is underneath the question?” The point was drawn out that we are to bring our real questions to Jesus, but there are two main kinds of questions:

  • Questions attached to pain

  • Questions attached to power

This is an important distinction. If we are asking God a question to gain power—to have control of something we don’t want to surrender to Him—that is not an honest, real question. That is working to get our way. The sermon added how we need to lean into the Who and let go of the why. It ended with the importance of naming our joy and pain—and giving thanks in the midst of that joy and pain. This is the journey my “deconstruction” or whatever you want to call it has taken me, and it has been so good and healthy.

Back to my original complaint with Alisa Childers, I appriciate her call to hold strong to Biblical theology, but feel that it is really tricky to state so dogmatically where the line divides in the “majors” and the “minors.” After reading her book, she seems to be balanced and Biblical on her views of LGBTQ and Race issues, but her online article splices things up in ways that many people (not her, but others) would apply practically in hurtful, unjust ways (I’ve seen this lived out in my own life).

While her book was well written, and I have recommended it (with caviots) to some friends, I strongly prefer books/authors that aren’t out to define where the lines are—but rather to explain, clarify, and bask in the beauty of where God is. I find that when I am full of the Holy Spirit, I don’t have to worry about where the lines are. I don’t have to have a list of “no-no” teachers who are dangerous. I am too busy in the joy of the Lord to argue about semantics. I do know semantics are important, and I am grateful for those who focus and call us to reject evil, but that isn’t my focus. I want my focus to be on the heart of God: what I am for, not what I am against.

My first complant was that Alisa Childers bundled together a bunch of beliefs that I felt it was important to unbundle (one definition of deconstruction). In general, I appreciate checklists, but often find I like them so I can turn off my brain…not so I can learn more. In my joy of checklists I found another one, which I felt was a bit more nuanced than Alisa’s article (but my friend warned me was still just another checklist). Take it for what it is, and what it isn’t:).

On further reflection (will this ever end?), Alisa’s orginal list divides things into the left and right, saying that accepting something on the right (or denying on the left) can be a red flag of progressive Christianity. The left side is focused more on basic theology, while the right is more hot button topics. There is a difference between disagreeing with a person on a hot topic issue because you disagree with what the BIBLE says about it, and disagreeing because of how THE CHURCH has typically responded to that issue.

Critique is hard to accept, I understand, but if I raise critiques on how the church has historically handled race or LGBTQ issues, that should not be equated with disagreeing with the Bible on those issues. But I’ve found that most often with hot button topics, we Christians tend to think we stand on the Bible, the Bible is right, so we are right, and if someone disagrees with us—they are disagreeing with the Bible. It is hard to not put our opinion into what the Bible says about things, and separate the practical application of the church from what the Bible actually says about it. It is an important and valid thing to call out the church when we haven’t practically carried out Biblical truth—that isn’t the same as rejecting the Biblical truth.

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