FAITH QUAKE

FAITH QUAKE

What a faith earthquake we’ve been through this last week. I’ve had more people reach out to me with hurt, pain, anger, and doubt in their faith than any other week ever. I can’t think of any single event in my lifetime that caused such a faith-crisis in my immediate friend-circle and beyond. And I feel it too. I’m carrying the weight of my own disappointment and frustration.

The church has lost a lot of credibility with many people (and for some it didn’t have a lot left) and I fear it will take a long time to earn any of it back. Large portions of the evangelical church will never earn it back. We’ve likely witnessed the “final straw” event for many people in their relationship with church.

Of course it had to do with the election. But not because a “republican” got elected. This isn’t about normal republican/democrat debates.  It’s not about thinking that Harris was the “Jesus” candidate. Anyone who assesses the fallout of this faith crisis as just liberals crying over a political loss won’t ever understand why people are leaving the church and will have no hope to rebuild credibility with them. 

People aren’t leaving the church because they identified Kamala Harris with Jesus and she lost. People are leaving the church because they saw the church identify hate, indecency, cruelty, racism, sexism, sexual assault, insurrection, and crude public sex jokes with being the champion of Jesus. They saw the church not just hold its nose and vote for a person in spite of that message (which might be bad enough), but in many cases give it a full-throated endorsement! They saw a church that wanted the “strongman” and felt justified in his cruel tactics, often cheering it on. 

People aren’t dumb. They know “love your neighbor” and “love your enemies” doesn’t look like that. They hear evangelicals talk about Jesus and how morals and character matter, but they no longer trust that evangelicals actually believe what they say. And why should they? 

Evangelicals may have mobilized to win an election, but they’ve lost their credibility to speak in any meaningful way into the lives of most of their neighbors. It’s why I mourn and lament. Not simply because I’m sad about what this election cycle means for our country, but because of how much damage it has done to the Christian witness. 

Those of us left who do want to advance the message of the peaceable, loving, compassionate Jesus have a lot of work to do. But at least the winnowing work has been done. The civic religion that often co-opts Jesus’ name has been exposed. We won’t have to do much work to distinguish ourselves from it anymore. Demonstrating basic love, decency, kindness, and compassion will be all it takes. It will stand it stark contrast to what passes as “Christianity” in most places today. And once the ground stops shaking as badly, I hope it’s a safe place for many to put their feet as they start to rebuild. 

So to those of who you who have been through a disaster zone this week, we see you. There are those of us who feel it too. We carry your hurt along with our own. And whenever you are ready, we are ready to join you in clearing out the rubble, picking up the pieces, and rebuilding something new.

My Post-Evangelical? Era

My Post-Evangelical? Era

It’s been a tough week for me and many of us. Apocalypse usually is that way. Apocalypse is simply an old word for “revealing” or “unveiling.” It’s the idea that something is made known to us fully that we didn’t see completely before. It’s like a curtain that goes up and we see what’s been behind it all along but didn’t have eyes to see. It feels like that happened this week in my religious world. The curtain went up and what many of us saw was worse than we expected or feared.

So, to those of you who follow Jesus and feel betrayed by the church that taught you about him . . . I understand. I feel those feelings too. I know what it’s like to be an exile from the faith that nurtured you. It hurts. It feels like grief, anger, and betrayal all wrapped up into one. It makes you question everything you’ve believed and the people that taught it to you. I get it.

But you are not alone. There are many of us out here. We feel what you feel. 

Weirdly, I find comfort and encouragement by your discontent. It reminds me that the love of Jesus can still be recognized even though a large part of the American evangelical church has been co-opted for other purposes. 

Many of us are not ready for a “what’s next” discussion. Coming to grips with the reality of our situation is difficult and requires a moment for lament. I’d encourage you to take all the time you need. No need to rush the grief or express simple platitudes of hope. It’s okay to feel the hurt for a bit. It’s okay to grieve. I certainly have been.

But, whenever you are ready (and if you ever are) . . . let’s begin a new way. 

For those of you who know me well, it won’t surprise you that I haven’t been comfortable in American evangelicalism and the small non-denominational tradition within it that has been my home for a long time. I’ve been deeply concerned about its preoccupation with coercive political power and its narrow and excluding theology since before it was cool point that out. I’ve been very vocal about it for years, hoping and urging it to reform. But I can no longer ignore the unique harm it does to the witness of Christ and to the lives of my neighbors. It has continued to reaffirm its own choice of what it wants to be, and I must make my own choice of what to do in response. I want to leave that label behind. If you are reading this, you probably do too.

I feel a sense of gratitude for the church I grew up in for first introducing me to Jesus and there are many things from that tradition that I’ll take into the future with me. But I can’t claim whatever the label of “evangelicalism” means today. It’s got so much baggage. And I’m tired of defending it and trying to reform it. We need a post-evangelical movement.

I don’t mean post-Christian. I’m not abandoning faith in Jesus. Rather, it’s because of Jesus that I feel compelled to find a new way. I’m not giving up on church as a community either. I still find a healthy church community to be hugely formative and supportive in my faith. But we do need a new expression of church beyond what is commonly called “evangelical.”

“Evangelical” is a term that is hard to define. In a certain way it just means “according to the teaching of the gospel.” And I certainly still affirm that as meaningful to my life and faith. But more popularly, “evangelicalism” has come to mean a certain type of American church that is preoccupied with conservative politics and fundamentalist theology more than the first definition. It’s that latter meaning and those type of churches I mean to depart. Truthfully, I left them in spirit long ago, but the association still remains. Today I want to make it clear, I don’t want to be associated with that at all. I’m done with all that. We need a new way forward.

I know for many my written disassociation here is not far enough. Some will find they need to pursue paths outside of the church altogether. I understand that position too. I can appreciate the intention to follow Jesus outside of traditional church environments these days and understand why some will.  

But for me, I believe there is something new on the horizon. And I’m not alone. I’ve found all sorts of people looking to forge a way forward. I’ve met some beautiful people who are Lutheran, Presbyterian and Catholic who feel the need as well. They recognize the church is off track too and want to find a better way. I think they’ve got a lot to teach me about how to go forward. Maybe we need to learn from each other. And maybe together we can forge something special in this post-evangelical landscape.

As hard as these past few days (and years) have been, perhaps we’ll experience another apocalypse in the days to come. Maybe another curtain will be pulled back and we’ll see there are more people ready to make a jump to post-evangelical life and that we aren’t the only ones needing to leave the church as it currently exist. I hope maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of that revelation just in reading this. You aren’t alone.

I’m not ready to give up on church, but it must look like something different, or I can’t continue in it either. I’m ready to explore what’s possible next. And if—at some point—you find yourself interested in taking a new journey too, just know you are not alone and there are others of us out here. We’d cherish the companionship as we look to build something new, and that you are always welcome to join along as we figure this out together. 

The comfort and peace of Jesus be with you.