Guest Post: lover’s faith journey

My husband wrote the following to his parents.  I share it with permission.

______________________________________________________

God has in no way “let me down”. I have not “turned my back on God”. I
am not hurt by God or someone in the church. These are common
presumptions many people have when someone transitions away from the
evangelical church. And they are not true.

The reality is, it is because of the strength of my continued belief
in God, the values I have been taught, and detailed study of the
Bible, that I have made transitions away from evangelicalism. It is my
continued belief in a kind, loving, caring, truth-telling God of
wonder that I must conclude the Bible is not, as a whole, an accurate
representation of the God I have always believed in. And many
teachings in the church I cannot accept as promoted by the God I
believe in, for they contradict what I believe God stands for. My
belief in God has not changed. I am only questioning the claimed
authority some feel they have to promote their own ideas on behalf of
God. Ideas that contradict the nature of the God I believe in. Ideas
that contradict what the Bible actually says. The God I always have,
and still, believe in. Things I feel the God I believe in would not
approve of.

I know you feel I have been deceived, but the complete opposite is
true. I have discovered that I have been deceived. Not about
everything I’ve been taught, just some things. I have discovered that
the Bible is being abused and misused. You point out that no church,
no church authority, is perfect. Of course. I’ll add the Bible to this
list. It is not perfect. How can the Bible, written by imperfect
humans, be perfect and without error? To think otherwise requires a
strong level of cognitive dissonance. How can any document written by
humans be perfect and without error?

No church, no church authority, is perfect.  But there is a difference
between failing to live up to promoted ideals and promoting harmful or
false ideals, under the guise of them being “good”. My standards of
“goodness” have not changed. I now question the goodness of some
ideals some churches are promoting. That some parts of the Bible
promote. In finding release from these harmful ideals, I have found a
much stronger sense of purpose, love, joy, peace, fulfillment,
kindness and even spiritual connection with God and the world around
me.

I think I have already stated which ideals I have found to bring the
opposite effects to my life. Ideals which have at times lead to
unhealthy and unnecessary guilt, judgement, prejudice, cognitive
dissonance, hatred (of myself and others), anger, sadness, depression
and bitterness. I don’t have a place for teachings that lead to
harmful behaviour or thoughts. I am not so much hurt by people who
teach these things, but from the ideals themselves. I am acknowledging
that in and of themselves, some of these ideals, when followed, cause
hurt. After struggling through this transition for years and the
negative impacts on my life, how could I wish the same on my children?

If it helps, I’ll try to nail down the root issue of some of these
harmful ideals from my perspective. Essentially to me it boils down to
churches using the Bible, out of context and in misleading ways, to
promote deep seated cultural prejudices, more or less. I understand
why this practice persists and why it is so vehemently defended. It is
a human tendency we all have. I am trying my best to work against this
human tendency.

A cultural prejudice that attempts to create narrow definitions and
requirements for what it means to be human. A narrowness that attempts
to limit God and manipulate the Bible and people. The God I believe
in, have always believed in, is bigger and better than this narrowness
and manipulation.

Can I prove God exists? No. Can someone prove God does not exist? No.
I choose to continue my belief in God. But I respect those who chose
not to believe in something I can’t prove, but still hold to the same
values I do. Most humans do hold the same values. In the end, this is
what matters to me. Not so much what someone thinks or doesn’t think
about God.

The sad thing is, there is great confusion as to how to apply these
values due to culture prejudices that have developed over time and for
various reasons. Am I any less confused? I feel that I am making
progress in that direction. Cognitive dissonance is clearly a form of
confusion, much of which I now find freedom from and I feel I can
illustrate to those willing to listen.

My Testimony Part 8: Baby blues

I have struggled on and off with depression since my mother first got sick when I was 6.  For much of elementary school I neither laughed nor cried. 

It mostly took the form of a deep emptiness.  A deep dark ache that had no energy for tears.  Self-loathing was most assuredly part of it but it was the same kind of depression my father lived with.

Most of my fears from those times were about incompetency.  I was afraid that I would fail.  Some of it was body image related, but really that was about being acceptable.  Other people could be overweight or imperfect and be beautiful, but I was such a weak person that only a perfect outside could compensate.

After the first baby was born, the depression went to another level of self-hatred.  I hated all things feminine.

My faith tradition had motherhood as the ultimate of femininity.  So, the highest calling of a woman was to have children.   And I had a girl child.  What was the point?  Eventually a male child would be born who could do something else, I guess. 

These thoughts and other irrational woman-hating ideas plagued me.  (Add this to not getting more than 4 hours of sleep in a row for nearly a year!  Maybe the two are related.)

It was the worst on Sunday mornings.  As we biked to church I would be filled with such a loathing of my female self that I wished I would get hit by a truck to remove my blight from the world.  I honestly believed the world would be better off without women in general and me in particular.

My husband thought that my reluctance to go to church was just spiritual warfare and a demonic attack to keep me from god.  I think it was my entire self reacting to the messages of subtle misogyny that were preached nearly every Sunday.

One Sunday, on Mother’s Day ironically, I made it to church and could not walk in.  I lay on the floor in the bathroom writhing in pain.

“God, help my despicable self” I gritted out, as I had done countless times. 

My husband, concerned, came in and announced we would just go home.  We got back outside and the cloud of oppression lifted slightly.  Maybe that was my answer :)

This went on until winter when I started taking EMPower Plus, saw a life coach, started looking for work and decided to go back to school.  I also stopped reading the bible.  Things got so much better!

Soft Questions

I’d like to think that my natural curiosity and intelligence lead me out of fundamental Christianity.  However, I know that is only partially true.  Much of my journey out was guided by the soft questions of those with another view.

Although my family never discussed evolution vs creationism, we were involved with people who were vocal creationists.  I remember seeing a film reel at the Anglican parish in town when I was about 6 or 8.  It was ‘disproving’ evolution.   A phrase I heard at the Alliance church was “my God is big enough to have created the earth in 6 days.” 

Personally, I thought the ‘days’ were figurative as a time period describing the earth’s revolution in relation to the sun made no sense if there were no earth or sun.  But I was scared that Adam and Eve were real people.  I made up all sorts of theories such as the retroactive fall to atone for dinosaurs killing other dinosaurs and lions not being capable of eating grass.  Accordingly, heaven would be working back in time to fix all the horrors of life.

When I was 16 I encountered my first Christian evolutionist.  I was climbing trees when my cousin’s friend remarked how obvious my ape-ancestry was.  I reacted as if it were blasphemy.  He calmly stated that he was confident in evolution, that it was amazing, and not contradictory to the idea of God. 

My cousin’s friends also shattered my stereotypes of Catholics, social drinkers, and intellectuals.  Sitting under the stars after a day of hiking there on those rock cliffs

 

http://mexico.a-holic.com/tepoztlan/

listening to classical music, sipping wine and discussing issues like social justice and clay art was a tipping point.   What I had been told about ‘those people’ was wrong.

Taking biology and physics at university was another small step.  An uncle was a big promoter of intelligent design.  He couldn’t believe that God was the great deciever who would make the earth look older to trick us.  I didn’t research the theory, but since it acknowleged evolution without denying God, I thought it was great.  One of my biology professors sadly told me that he was a Christian but that he could not reconcile his faith with his knowlege.  I blamed it on a literal interpretation of Genesis and went on my merry way.

One time in a high school debate I remember discussing those verses about “husbands love your wives, wives submit to your husbands…”  I have no idea why we were discussing that.  I said that I would be glad to submit to someone who loved me enough to lay down his life for me.  It was what I had been taught was the ideal.  My English teacher gave me a look.  He didn’t say anything but the pity came through.  And I thought, maybe I’m seeing it wrong.  Maybe there is a love that doesn’t demand placing myself beneath someone.

Even though I always hated head coverings and had glorious fights with my mom on Sunday mornings about it, I eventually became an advocate.  Out of fear.

One time in university I got locked out of my house on a -30 C winter day and decided to hang out at the Bible College down the street until my roomie got home.  I walked into the first classroom and sat in the back.  The lecture was on headcoverings.  The prof finished the lecture early which he remarked never happened, taking it as affirmation from God, I asked if I could speak.  I had the same heart-pounding adrenalin heat rush that I had been taught to identify with the Holy Spirit asking me to do something.

He let me come up to the front and talk to the class about why I wore headcoverings.  I don’t remember what I said but apparently his students believed I was a plant asked to do an object lesson.  The kids asked me questions.  The prof did too. 

Most I could answer- I had been trained well.  But the last question the prof asked was, “so you do this because someone in the 1940′s told you to and said it was God?  How do you know it was God’s voice and not their own?”

I had never thought to question the authority of the entire governing body of our church. 

Later, after a severe bout of post-partum depression, I was talking to a counsellor about my fear of what God thought about women.  She encouraged me to seek truth instead of rely on what certain men (from early church fathers, Martin Luther, church leaders …) and women had said.  So I decided to look at the verses in the Bible from the perspective that God loves women as much as men. 

I wrote up some thoughts and sent them in to the church leaders.  I was told, in love, that Jesus had no women disciples and that I needed to be in submission to whatever the head guys of the church decided God wanted for women.  Even though I was using the bible and going back to the Greek and Hebrew my essay on why women can teach was disregarded because I was a woman.  A more accurate translation of this verse couldn’t be heard.

My husband read my work.  He then asked the last question, “You’ve shown one way to interpret the bible, but your church makes an idol of the Bible.  Why give so much weight to what Paul said at all?”

I could question biblical inerrancy?

During a class we had a guest speaker do a talk on hermeneutics.  He was a former pastor.  After class I asked him why he left pastoring.  He said that he could not believe in a god who denied the humanity of anyone as the bible did of women and other groups.  So I wasn’t the only one who had troubles with the bible’s treatment of women and non-chosen peoples. 

A coworker who had left Christianity also echoed his views.  People left christianity because they were too compassionate?

A few months later I heard John Shelby Spong on the radio discussing the bible.  I devoured his books with much skepticism.  Then, at the urging of a Christian writer, I read Laughter of Aphrodite by Carol Christ.  And many other books and authors.

The God of the Bible was exposed as a human attempt to understand the divine, connect with the spiritual, and control people.

I found Common Sense Athiest from a link on my cousin’s blog.  And then de-conversion.com   There were intelligent, compassionate former Christians.

I had found a safe place to question and questions that lead me to a safe place.

My parents’ fault

My mother hinted the other day that my issues with faith and god come  from the mistakes and shortcomings of my parents.

Wow.  My questioning is the fault of my parents?  She is probably right.  I made a short list of values my parents have that continue to influence me.

- my dad’s love of life-long learning

  Our house has always been full of books from topics such as history, linguistics, biology, and other such things.  We never bought new clothes, but we always had a budget for new books! 

- my mom’s love of debate, questioning, and analyzing. 

  The two didn’t actually mix due to my father’s loyalty to tradition and fear of confrontation, but my mom was always up for a discussion.  If we disagreed (if!) I knew that she would go back later and research my point of view.

- my father’s appreciation for the arts

  Nature has always been my dad’s inspiration for his poetry, photography, sketching, and music.  (Maybe not drama).  We went on many field trips to the country with cameras or visited art galleries (including the one my dad has where he works).

- my mother’s resourcefulness

  We grew up without much, but my mom always managed.  You don’t want to know the variety of ways she found to cook lentils.  During autumn we walked around town picking apples from people’s trees who didn’t want them and made freezers full of applesauce. 

- my father’s high value of community and family

  My dad keeps in touch with so many relatives.  He organizes family reunions and writes family history books.  He is involved in nearly every club in our small town.

- my mother’s living out her ideals of health and care for the environment

  She bikes or walks everywhere she can.  She works hard and isn’t afraid to get sweaty and dirty.  When we were kids she would play in the park with us and teach us King of the Castle and scrub baseball.  Real women have callouses and are active.

There are so many more, of course.

M T- Part 5 Dissent Brewing

The same year I turned 12, my parents decided it was time for me to start wearing the head coverings like the other females in our church. I hated it. It burned on my head. And I’d read the Bible by then. I knew why Paul said women were supposed to cover up. And I hated that even more. 

I was being rebellious and sinful just by pinning on the doily every Sunday with resentment. But I wanted to be a good Christian. So, I stopped reading entire portions of the Bible. I tried so hard to be silent and submissive. I would even argue with others for submission and head coverings. 

At age 16 I went off to Mexico to live with family for a year. I worked as a beer model. I had friends who weren’t Christians. I tried alcohol for the first time and found it was possible to drink and not get drunk. (Our church preached no alcohol or dancing.) 

I began to question why I believed Christianity in the first place- was it only because my parents taught me? I drilled our philosophy teacher, who was a Catholic priest, about the meaning of life, truth, reality and so on. He told me I could find the answers within myself. 

“Did you?” I asked. 

“No.” He said and went silent. 

Deciding there was nothing in philosophy or Catholicism, I then got really involved in some Pentecostal churches. Dancing in the spirit, personal prophesy, and being slain in the spirit were all new to me. With it came contempt for my new non-churchy awesome-nerdy friends. I dragged one of them with me to a service once, (the guy I had a crush on). There was an altar call. I went and felt God telling me I couldn’t be unequally yoked, which had been the theme of the service, so I told my friend we couldn’t date. He stopped believing in God after that. 

I came back and went off to university in a city with a local congregation. Again, I was involved in multiple Christian groups. I helped run the church youth group with my cousin for a year. Then I got a job working with kids with different abilities and had no more time. 

 

In my 3rd year of university, our church held an international “Scripture Studies”. It was a combination of bible school and just plain preaching for one month (church 3 times a day!). I decided to skip all my classes for the month of October to attend. I came back on Fridays for my jobs: leading a tutorial and the youth program. Despite missing a month of class and labs my stats marks were up in the 90s which I took to be a sign of God’s blessing. 

Through this experience an opportunity came for me to go with a friend to an orphanage in India supported by our church and I grabbed it.

M.T.- Part 4 Growing in the Faith

 

I was a keener. I devoured the bible and missionary biographies. I rededicated my life every Sunday before communion. I went up to be prayed for to receive the Holy Spirit (read: speaking in tongues) when I was about 10. It didn’t happen. When my lips started to say things I wasn’t in control of, I stopped. 

At camp the summer I turned 12, I was baptized. And I was baptized in the Holy Spirit. How can I describe it? I felt like my feet didn’t touch the ground. I couldn’t stop smiling. I couldn’t stop speaking in tongues. I was all light and bubbles of joy. It was similar to the beginnings of a manic phase. 

After that I went up to almost every altar call chasing encounters with God. I sat as close to the pulpit as I could, which was usually right behind the musicians on the side. 

I lived from camp to camp. Church camps were the centre of our lives. They were family reunions as both sides of my family were there. Like my parents and grandparents, I believed that my friends from NB camp were my true friends. The emotional highs, the tribal friendships… Life in between wasn’t as real. 

But, I was in a small centre and there were few kids in my local church who actually lived locally. Many families drove for hours to get there on Sundays. Throughout the next years I explored other churches seeking for more of the spiritual high. I went to nearly every church group there was. I was in Quizzing, youth groups from several churches, prayer meetings, and youth band. In a week, I’d go to as many as 4 different churches’ events. 

My uncle (an elder in my home church) was very concerned that I wouldn’t have the appropriate spiritual covering with being involved in so many churches. He pressured me to choose where my loyalties lay. How confusing. Hadn’t I heard so many messages on the Oneness of the Body of Christ at camp? I thought my loyalties were to God and His Church Universal.

M T: Part 2 Revival

1948.

It must have been a magical time. 

I grew up hearing stories of This Present Move of God starting from a revival in North Battleford SK.

Healings, prophesy, visions, singing in the spirit, all night prayer meetings…  the Gifts of the Holy Spirit were poured out like Joel 2 promised.  For several years the people lived on the high of the Holy Spirit.  Many groups broke away from it including the Toronto Blessing airport church.  But my grandparents remained loyal to the small conservative core that continues there this day.

My parents grew up in the shadow of The Move and we were pressured to carry on.  Third generation will break or make it.  1948 is still spoken of in awe and longing.  Maybe we would be so blessed as to experience it again.

My grandfathers were both elders (it is an office one carries in a particular church until death,  given by God as indicated by the Holy Spirit through the Travelling Ministries). 

Below is the church that one of my great-grandfathers preached at and later my grandfather. 

My grandfather never stopped talking about it his whole life.  If I could pray hard enough or submit more, whatever it took to bring in a new revival, I was going to try.

And the prophesies pointed to an even greater Move of God.  But the warning was clear- if we didn’t enter in, God would find another people.  

My grandparents had spent their entire lives in devotion to This Present Move.  Those living still are.

We were to carry on.   The world needed what we, the remnant, had to offer.

My Testimony- Part 1 The Pioneers

My story begins before my time.

My great-grandfather Freke preached his first sermon in Ireland.  My great-grandmother heard his plea based on Galatians 5:1.  She gave her heart away twice that day.

Years later they met again on the Canadian prairies as he, a travelling preacher/farmer came by her area.  They were married soon after.   According to the stories he was very disciplined man- sometimes harsh but always to be counted on.  She was outspoken, vivacious, and full of adventure.

My mother’s grandparents were also pioneers.  Quiet and dependable.  There are stories of them slipping away from the farm to end up on a neighbour’s place to pray for a sick child until they were better. 

I was brought up to be grateful for the rich spiritual heritage passed down to me.  Faithful adherence to Christianity was my family’s legacy for as far back as oral history allowed. 

(Of course, there was that scandal involving the castle and a rumoured illegitimate child and lost inheritance.)

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