Blind Faith Is No Faith At All

At my church this morning, they were talking about Father's Day and giving advice on how to be a good father, etc.  All around, I think it was a good and valuable sermon.  But one thing that one of the pastors said in the middle of it really disturbed me.  He was talking about a local church that asks as one of its fundamental questions, "What about God the Mother (as opposed to God the Father)?"  And this pastor said that even asking that question is offensive because it somehow implies that fatherhood is an insufficient role for God to be put into.  Now, beyond the substantive problems with that statement (i.e. All of humanity was made in God's image, both male and female, so of course the question "What about God the Mother?" is not only valid but vital), the statement that "even asking the question is offensive" places the entirety of faith and religion inside of a tight little box, never to be shaken loose, pondered, or questioned.

But I have to ask, how can you have true faith without doubt?  What is the point of trying to live for Christ if the way you live and the beliefs you cling to reject so many of those whom Christ reached out to the most?

The central passage of today's sermon was found in Deuteronomy 6 which urges the Israelite nation to follow God with their whole heart, soul, mind, and strength.  But what does it look like to love God with all that you are?  We talk about parents being consistent and involved in their kids' lives, but what kind of message does it send to your children when the religion you cling to, the faith you base your life and belief system upon is immovable?

Your faith shouldn't be immovable.  It should be ever-changing, ever evolving.  God is not stagnant, so why should we allow our faith, our belief systems to sit still, growing stale from lack of challenges, questioning, or doubting?

The sermon focused explicitly upon how parents should raise their children.  And you can be the best, most loving and godly parent in the world, work yourself ragged to instill what you believe to be the appropriate Christian values into your children, but if you teach a rigid, immovable faith that has no room to breath, what is the point of it all?  Can there be such a thing as true faith without being willing to doubt and question?  How can a child learn to grow without these crucial aspects of having faith?  And how can your children have anything close to true faith without being taught that it's okay to ask the tough questions, to not know all the answers, and even to buck tradition if you feel God leading you in that direction?

I don't believe that faith exists absent questioning and doubting.

Faith shouldn't be blind.  It should live and evolve and grow and be challenged and break and change and, most importantly, be filled with love and grace.

I have always been taught that the Word of God is infallible.  But what does that tenant say about our faith?  This rigid clinging to Scriptures, blindly accepting everything it says (or everything we are taught that it is supposed to mean) as incapable of corruption or misinterpretation or mistranslation?

I believe that clinging to this notion with such a tight grip denies so much of the expressive work of God in our lives.  If the Spirit of God leads us to a conviction or even just a thought that seemingly challenges a verse or passage of the Bible, shouldn't we have enough faith to be willing to question, to doubt, to wonder, to challenge?

God is more powerful than our belief systems, than our rigid clinging to the Bible.  Yahweh wrote this Book, it's true.  But He also entrusted into the hands, words, and voices of fallible man.  So if we cling so tightly to this human-entrusted work, we are making the Bible our idol instead of worshiping the Creator of both man and the Word.  Jesus is the Word, so it is Him we must follow more so than the human-entrusted Scriptures.

"One way to guard against [making the Bible an idol] is to realize that while the Bible may be at the centre of matters of faith, it must also be in 'conversation' with tradition, experience, and reason" (Rev. Mona West).  We must realize that the Bible was written at a particular time, within the traditions, contexts and mindsets of its many authors.  We must also realize that when we, as humans, read the Bible, we read it from the prisms and mindsets of our modern lives.  And just as within the past couple centuries specific Scripture passages were used to justify the institution of slavery because of the context (time, place, and mindset) in which it was being interpreted, so we, today, read and interpret the Scriptures in the context of the world in which we live.

We no longer view slavery as a Biblically acceptable institution.  So, knowing that the Bible has been used throughout history to rationalize injustices that were viewed as socially acceptable at that time, so the Bible, today, can and will be used to rationalize philosophies and beliefs that history, and even the church, will look back upon as unjust.  We are fallible people, reading and trying to interpret the Bible through the prisms of our own lives and experiences.

We must recognize this simple fact: we are fallible.  We must therefore hold our interpretations of Scriptures loosely, realizing that we may and will be wrong about some of our views.  We cannot rely entirely upon the teachings of the modern church about how individual Scripture passages should be or have been interpreted.  Because the church has been and will be wrong about some of these interpretations.  That's the nature of having a human-led church.

So let's stop making the Bible our idol.  Let's stop holding so tightly to our beliefs, rationalizing the idea that our traditional beliefs are, by the very nature that they are traditional, correct and infallible.  Instead, let us use our ability to reason and philosophize and question and doubt and wonder.  Let's not forget that we can and will be wrong.  And that's ok.  But let's pay attention to the leading of the Spirit in our own lives, instead of just the guidance of tradition and church history and interpretation as the sole authority for our lives.  When Jesus left this earth, He told us that He was sending us a Counselor to help us navigate this world.  So let's stop idolozing the Scriptures and instead listen to the Spirit and be willing to ask the tough questions, not afraid to go against tradition, but instead check everything we believe against that voice of the Spirit inside each of us.

How do they parents do this?

How do people bring children into such a hurt and broken world? We live in a world where between 1 in 3 and 1 in 4 women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. And perhaps more shockingly, 1 in 6 men will be molested or sexually assaulted at some point in their lives. So often, young kids are not safe in their own homes. Even if the kids themselves are not getting abused, they witness oh so much. 90 percent of kids living in domestic violence situations know about the violence between their parents. The kids see mom and dad fighting. They catch the bruises and the angry looks and the shame. They feel the tension and internalize the pain.
Even if the household isn't physically or emotionally abusive, every home, every parent, every family member gives off signs and signals of their personal problems and troubles and hurts and pains. Parents can try their hardest, be incredibly patient and loving and attentive, yet every child still grows up with his/her own issues. They can have physical pains and ailments and emotional problems. They can misinterpret their parents' loving admonishions as demands for perfection (as in my case). Or even the youngest child, like my 3 year old nephew, can take a weeklong absence from a parent to mean an oncoming abandonment. My brother and sister-in-law are incredibly loving parents, yet their son is nearly constantly asking his daddy if he'll be here tomorrow. My heart broke for this little boy when I saw him feel compelled to climb into his parents' bed the first night they were home and fell asleep there just to be sure they they were staying.
We live in a world where violence is literally everywhere. Boys are taught that having the biggest "guns" (meaning both muscles and firearms) somehow makes them more manly.
Depression and sickness and disease are rampant. A congresswoman can no longer feel safe greeting constituents at a local grocery store for fear of being gunned down (like Gabby Giffords). Kids, no matter how young or old, cannot go to school without at least a cursory fear of gun violence as a result of schoolyard bullying or problems at home.
Even the most loving and seemingly non-violent families often use corporal punishment (i.e. physical violence), albeit well-intentioned (hopefully) as a form of "love.". This concept baffles me. How could physical violence and inflicting physical pain ever be loving? No matter how much the parent says, "Oh, it hurts me more than it hurts you" or "I'm only doing this because I love you so much," all the kid feels and knows is an association between physical violence and pain with "love."
If you truly love someone, how could you knowingly inflict pain on him/her? And with this in mind, I come back to the original question: "How could people choose to bring children into this world?".
This world, without fail, offers so much pain. If I ever had a child, I know that I would love him/her so much it brings me to tears. I cry because even the thought of these future children breaks my heart because I know that, at one point or another, their hearts (and bodies and minds) will be shattered and broken and bruised.
I could never do this to them.
And I have no clue how anyone else could either.

So I've done the SlutWalk; now let's talk modesty

I always grew up hearing lecture upon lecture about the importance for young women to be 'modest.'  I will (somewhat shamefully) admit that I've even given a lecture or two on the topic myself.  Modesty was hashed and rehashed at home, at school, at youth group, during Bible studies, during worship sessions, during meals, during shopping trips, and during pretty much any and every other opportunity possible.  And even back in my semi-brainwashed-by-religion phase, I always knew that the arguments given were crap.  

Why on earthy would it be my job by nature of my being female to somehow control or even just affect how guys may or may not look at me?  

That was always the first question that popped into my head any time the topic of modesty was broached.  Why would the onus be on me to control how another autonomous human being thinks or acts?  I simply can't control another person’s thoughts or actions.

Now I guess I've always kind of known this, but it wasn't until this past weekend's SlutWalk that it dawned on me the reason why this logic is so very wrong.  It's because it is just another one of the many symptoms of this horrible rape culture that permeates our entire society.  I could never come anywhere close to explaining rape culture as well as Melissa McEwan at Shakesville does here:

Rape culture is the way in which the constant threat of sexual assault affects women's daily movements. Rape culture is telling girls and women to be careful about what you wear, how you wear it, how you carry yourself, where you walk, when you walk there, with whom you walk, whom you trust, what you do, where you do it, with whom you do it, what you drink, how much you drink, whether you make eye contact, if you're alone, if you're with a stranger, if you're in a group, if you're in a group of strangers, if it's dark, if the area is unfamiliar, if you're carrying something, how you carry it, what kind of shoes you're wearing in case you have to run, what kind of purse you carry, what jewelry you wear, what time it is, what street it is, what environment it is, how many people you sleep with, what kind of people you sleep with, who your friends are, to whom you give your number, who's around when the delivery guy comes, to get an apartment where you can see who's at the door before they can see you, to check before you open the door to the delivery guy, to own a dog or a dog-sound-making machine, to get a roommate, to take self-defense, to always be alert always pay attention always watch your back always be aware of your surroundings and never let your guard down for a moment lest you be sexually assaulted and if you are and didn't follow all the rules it's your fault.

Telling girls that they must dress (or not dress) a certain way to somehow try and control how someone else thinks or acts is a direct extension of this culture.

But even beyond the injustice of placing this burden, blame, and shame on women for when guys think or act a certain way, it dawned on me the other night that there’s a bigger (or at least equally big) problem with this lesson being taught to young girls: it places the entire focus of the discussion on how girl’s choices affect guys.  Instead of being an empowering discussion about how the way a young woman dresses and acts affects and reflects her self-confidence and self-worth, it does the exact opposite: it places the entire discussion in terms of boys.  And this all happens most frequently during a time when young women are trying desperately hard to figure themselves out.

But here’s the thing: for girls who have somehow managed to grow into women with at least some degree of self-worth, self-confidence, and self-respect, the way they dress (most of the time) has very little to do with how it is perceived by the rest of the world.  Instead, confident and empowered women wear clothing that expresses who they are, what they are comfortable in, and what makes them feel beautiful and strong.

A woman who is assured of her own worth doesn’t wear a low-cut top or a short skirt to try and attract a guy’s attention.  If she chooses to wear these things, it is because she feels comfortable and empowered in these clothes.  It will have nothing to do with the reactions she receives from others.

When I was growing up and trying to develop my own sense of style and fashion (and self-worth), I was never told to look for clothing that makes me feel beautiful and confident and powerful and loved and respected.  I was simply told that certain clothes were too tight or too short or too low-cut or too little or too much or too…  I was lectured about how to pick clothing that wouldn’t “force” guy’s minds to wander or lust or desire or even simply to guess.

Now, quick disclaimer here: I’m not writing this as (another) angry rant against how I was raised.  Really, I’m over it.  And I really don’t blame any of the many people who lectured me about modesty.  How girl’s clothing affects a guy’s mind has been the only way that the issue has been framed for so long that’s it’s in no way surprising that the people I grew up with didn’t know any better.  So, no, that's not the point.

I’m writing this because there has got to be a shift in focus.  The only way to change the rape culture is to continually combat it, and so this is one thing that has to change.  The discussion needs to be shifted off of the term “modesty” (because, really, it’s such a fucking ambiguous term anyways that’s it’s already pretty much useless), and instead focus on fostering confidence, self-worth, and self-respect in young women.  And then let them make their own choices about what types of clothing they are truly comfortable wearing.  And even if their motives have nothing to do with their own confidence and empowerment, we must always remember that, no matter what a girl/woman wears, it is never her fault if a guy chooses to think or act improperly.

Getting over it - finally

Tonight, the Watoto Children's Choir came and performed at my church.  This is the third time that I've seen them, and once again it amazed me how incredibly joyful and uncynical all of these orphans were.  Each and every one of these children has lost one or both parents, many having never even met them.  Their parents and other relatives were killed by war, disease, or HIV/AIDS.  Compared to my life, each of these children have been through hell and back.  Yet I am the one sitting in the audience continually fighting my own cynicism and bitterness.  They who have every reason to be bitter were standing up there singing their hearts out about their love for Jesus and the fact that they are not alone.
This amazing spectacle was immediately followed by Pastor Mark giving a sermon on Parenting.  I instantly knew that God wanted me to deal with my own heart, as my own experience being "parented" is at the source of a large portion of my bitterness and cynicism.
I have two of the most amazing parents in the world, who loved me and raised me with more love and care than I could possibly hope to imagine, and yet I struggle all the time with bitterness and anger towards the way that they raised me.  It's not their fault.  I am perfectly reconciled with my parents and their incredible love for me.  But I am still unbelievably bitter towards the primary source of their parenting ideology.
My parents are disciples of and leaders in a parenting ministry called Growing Families International.  While I truly believe that the hearts and motivations of the ministry's founders and leaders are perfectly good and right, I still harbor such resentment regarding what it did to me.  Because of the methods espoused by GFI, I grew up believing that I had to lie my way through life, constantly pretending to be this perfect little girl who was so far from the person I truly was.  Instead of ever changing my heart, my parents were constantly correcting and molding this facade which I chose to show them.  And every time the true me broke free, I was corrected and punished at length, hearing every single reason why these actions, this real me, wasn't ok.
Even while I'm writing this, I shudder at the person that I used to be, at the anger that I still hold.  I have to let it go.  I have to get over it.  I want so badly to be able to speak into GFI, to affirm in them what I think they're doing right and to be able to loving tell them which very specific areas they may be erring.  But when I even contemplate talking to anyone related to the ministry, bile rises in my throat, and I have to fight back the anger and bitter criticism.  I have no clue how to forgive, how to forget, how to stop blaming them (not my parents, but the ministry).
And GFI isn't the only thing which I harbour resentment towards.  My highschool.  My hometown.  My old youth group.  My old church.  Christianity in general.  Every one of these things, I hold captive in my bitterness.
I could go on and on about how deep my resentment runs, about how completely cynical I have become.  But none of that compares to the stark contrast I felt tonight while I was sitting, wallowing in my own bitterness, watching the beautiful, joyous, and carefree faces of the Watoto Children's Choir.  I have nothing to complain about.  I have been through nothing.  Yet, just like them, I belong to God.  I am His.  And I am not alone.  I may have been hurt and I may carry the scars forever, but I am here.  And I am alive.  And I am His.
If those little kids can smile and dance and sing, unencumbered by the tethers of cynicism, unhindered by the chains of anger, then my own past must hold no more power over me.  I am free, because I belong to the One who freed those children from the grips of war, disease, and every possible hardship. I am free because, even in my darkest hour, even when I felt most alone, it was God Almighty that was sheltering me, it was under His wings that I took refuge.

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.  And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his image with every-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.  (2 Corinthians 3:17-18)