Faith & Personal Relationships I have been in something of a crisis of faith in the last few months. It hasn’t been an intellectual doubt--I know God exists--but rather one of emotional doubt. More succinctly, I have been wondering exactly what makes a Christian a Christian. After spending much of my life immersed in theology and surrounded by Christians of one stripe or another, I’ve still never examined the issue. It has only been within the last four years that working through those thoughts has seemed important to me. I have been involved in this discussion through e-mail with
Michael for quite a while now. Much of that is too personal to recount here, but I have drawn a few conclusions that I would like to put up here rather than clog up his inbox any further. I think it iss appropriate, as I have been rather brutal as of late discussing Christianity in general and a few incident in the recent past in specific.
In the broadest sense, my recent troublesome thoughts have centered on the fact that I was surrounded by a good many Christians that I just simply did not like. Everyone meets those types in their lives. Usually it’s a handful of folks here and there that you get miffed at and then quickly forget about. What I am referring to here is being totally, completely surrounded by unpleasant Christians, in a closed environment, for years at a time. I am speaking of Regent university as the source of my angst.
I have a few caveats. First, I am not making a blanket condemnation. I had a small number of close nit friends I liked, a whole bunch I tolerated, and a sizeable minority I wished had a permanent itch they couldn’t reach. I’ve had that everywhere I’ve ever spent a considerable amount of time, so I can’t say that has a whole lot to do with religious leanings. Second, a fe alumni link here, as does my former Constitutional Law professor. My stat tracker tells me that a number of other alumni and administrators visit here from time to time, and I can tell that some who wish to remain anonymous have me boo marked on their browsers assuming I’ll never know it. Perhaps they are hoping I will eventually name names. I’m not going to do that here. Finally, I am going to honestly criticize Regent, not out of a sense of meanness or having an axe to grind, but of genuine, thoughtful contemplation. I welcome anyone to come out of hiding through the comments or e-mail to respond.
Let me begin this rambling monstrosity with a concept I now realize I have thrown around too lightly in the past: a personal relationship with Christ. I’ve described myself a having one, even though I couldn’t define it for the life of me. That’s what happens when you get too comfortable as a Christian. You forget what it means to be one. It isn’t a matter of going to church on Sunday to compare outfits or singing the loudest at choir practice, In a less cynical sense, it is not about how many times you pray, what you pray about, or how many people you have shared the Gospel with, either. Those are, I think, what Jesus refers to as laying up treasures for yourself in heaven. These are things James refers to when he says faith without work is dead. He doesn’t mean charity in the altruistic sense of the word--while that is a good thing-- he means that not working on your personal faith can kill it. One who has a true, healthy faith with do good works out of a Christ-like sense of duty and not to make himself look good in the eyes of other people. Feeding your faith is a very personal thing and, at least in my case, a very quiet, private one.
Shortly before I left Regent, I went to a Mexican restaurant with a friend who confided in me that her faith was weak before coming to Regent. She decided to accept admission there because she wanted to be closer to God. She said she’d accomplished that. I didn’t--and don’t--doubt her sincerity in that. I came to regent, not looking to get closer to God, but to find some peace among Christians after a tumultuous few years a family squabbles, career setbacks, and pooor health issues. I expected some comfort and camaraderie. I did not get it, but I should not have gone expecting it, either. I didn’t look at my past relationship with Christ for what I was seeking. I looked for it in other people, something which I am no good at.
Personal failures and character flaws have lead to a lot of trouble and misunderstandings. I cab be arrogant, abrasive, anti social, cynical, combative, defensive, and mean spirited if I consider you an “ill-defined “bad person.’ I can rationalize every single one of these flaws at any given moment. I’d like to think I still have a sense of fair play and decency in my actions, but I honestly know where I am rough around the edges. I have no problem admitting any of these things. I do so now as full disclosure so you’ll understand that I am fully prepared to accept blame in any nasty things that I have been involved in, socially, personally, and spiritually. I am no angel pointing fingers at everyone else for my spiritual struggles dating back to any point in my life, particularly in recent years.
All that said, I have come to the conclusion that my spirual health--my personal relationship with Christ--has been stronger when I have been in secular environments, where I expect people to behave badly, than in Christian environments, where I hold them to a higher standard in which they fail to reach time and time again. It is the sinful nature of both groups both times. We all have one. Mine is huge, yet I had some expectation that the rest of the Christians I was around had a rein on theirs. Not so, and what’s worse, when Christians are in a closed, secluded environment, they behave very, very badly.
I have never been in an environment as closed off as Regent was. I had always been in a place which was for the most part secular. Yes, I did go to a Christian school for elementary and high school. The faculty was devout, but it was the only private school in town and the weathier parents sent their kids there not out of some sense of Christian duty, but to keep them out of the trouble they’d find in public school. I can’t tell you the number of devout kids who showed for a few months and were then taken out to be home schooled by disappointed parents. I don’t suppose I have to explain what the University of South Carolina was like spiritually, do I?
In those environments, I fostered a quiet spiritual relationship with Christ. It was a praying in the closet type of thing. Unbeknownst to me, that was helping me build up my faith. It was the works that was keeping my faith alive. The comfort of being in a place where you can let your spiritual guard down can cause your faith to stagnate. That, in my opinion, is what happened to many of my classmates. They grew up in colse knit Christian families, went to tiny Christian schools, and had it pounded in them from early on about the evils of secular society. That prompted them to form closed off enclaves in which they were suspicious of those who had come from secular environments. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating here: if you went to a secular college, you were not considered a real Christian until you presented compelling evidence to the contrary.
Such an attitude created an us v. them atmosphere that was hard to deal with. My classmates were judgmental, personally, intrusive, and hypocritical. Some were even abusive, probably because of their sheltered ness. The specifics of that aren’t relevant here but that didn’t make it hurt any less for me, considering I was reling from outside circumstances to begin with. It was at this piint that I seriously began questioning what it mans to be a Christian. The main point I wrestled with is why would I want to go to heaven I these are the kind of people I will have to spend eternity with?
It has taken me a while to realize that what I found distasteful was their sinful natures, something they found just as distasteful in me. In heaven, those will be gone. I don’t imagine there will be regret in heaven, but I am sure we will realize our anonymities have been the result of those sinful natures. I wasn’t accdtomed to be surrounded by a closed enclave of Christians that supposedly support one another. I was an outsider, and treated accordingly. I wasn’t the only one.
This is where my honest criticism of Regent comes in. I think a Christian law school is a antastic idea in theory but poor practically. Regent has to conform to ABA standards in order to remain accredited. That means they cannot discriminate at al and it leads to trouble. A Catholic knows not to apply to Bob Jones University. He knows his theology is not welcome there and neither is he. The line is not so clear at Regent. The enclave I spoke of above can actually be divided into much smaller ones, generally unified by a distrust of nonChristians, but broken up by a dislike for different denominations. In the broadest sense, there was a big Catholic-Protestant divide. A catholic student could very well wind up with a Southern Baptist professor who literally thinks and acts like the student is a hellbound apostate and there is nothing he can do but sit there and take it. There was also a charismatic v. everyone else divide which was small but growing as I left. Some of the conflicts I witnessed were brutal, not just over theological grounds, but behavioral and sexuality as well. It was all enough for someone wel rounded in Chirsitian theology begin losing faith in what inate good fruit that Christianity is supposed to produce. That is exactly what it did to me.
My subsequent circumstances didn‘t help much. I said above that I have encountered disagreeable Christians before. Normally, I have shrugged them off as bad apples and moved on. I would have done so here, too, if my health hadn‘t fallen apart. It caused me to wonder if poor health wasn‘t a punishment from God, particularly because it was drilled in me by the Pentecostals who surrounded me that everything has some direct Godly purpose. You see, if my former classmates were prospering, but I am not, then they are spiritually better than I am, and I need to examine that. I confess that thought rolled around my head for months, particularly because of how so many of my classmates turned their noses up at me. I know I have flaws--I’ve admitted that above--but with their rotten behavior, surely they are not better Christians who should sit in judgment of me?
To work through this problem, I had to analyze two concepts. First, exactly how much of a hand days God take in day-to-day life? I honesty think very little. I believe he left us the Holy Apirit--with whom that personal relationship is established--in lieu of direct cntact. Inded, this is a world in which darkness and sin are in control. It’s not that god forsakes us. It’s not that way at all. But I think if he intervened too much, one would view Him as a Santa Claus fulfilling all your wishes. Instead, I think instead that childlike faith that is so important comes from being buffeted my sin and bad times, because you have that faith that at the end of the road, Someone will be there to take you home. Stering through life, not really sure of when you are being protected and when you are being slapped down makes you more reflective, and being more reflective makes you realize that you are a child dependant on God.
Which leads me to the second concept: does God punish us on Earth? I was of two minds about this. First, I readil accept that the emotional and the spiritual can effect the physical. Depression and pessimism can shorten you life, so there is no reason to think sin won’t do the same thing. That’s not necessarily a direct punishment from God, but a symptom of our fall from grace. In that sense, it happens to everyone, and there is probably no significance to it. Secondly, if I may toss out a Southerism here, children are like dogs, if you slap them around enough, they’ll start to think they did something to deserve it. I can’t see a benevolent God misleading one of His followers that way. Jesus told us that following him was not going to be easy. We were going to have to take up a heavy cross and follow him. It is going to be an unfair life of hardship and frankly, since it is our fault we are separated from God and Jesus had to sacrifice himself, why shouldn’t it be? That goes for all Christians, so I don’t see how I am being punished with poor health.
The bible says the rain falls on the just and the unjust alike. Someone’s sweet old grandmother suffers for years with cancer while Josef Stalin dies quietly one night. That casts doubt on there being any sort of direct justice these days. I think it is all after we die. We are being guided by some calamities, yes, but I am not so sure we are being punished. I think instead the pain we feel helps u to let go of this world and embrace the next. This realixation is why I am tempted (bad word choice, I know) to say too much comfort in Christianity is a bad thing. It leads to a complacency that can cause observers to lose their faith, like I almost did.
What does all this mean? for you, maybe nothing. I’ve taken all this on faith in my personal relationship with Christ, which I have already noted has been doubted by a number of folks in recent years. That is fine with me. An inherent aspect of having faith in something is the realization you could be wrong. I still shift between melancholy and distraught over what my life has become. I think that is natural in my circumstances. But I have not shaken my fist at God and denied Him. I have asked honestly why and I have gone through bouts of anger, but have never given up on my faith. It has been a struggle to bypass the poor behavior of other Christian who seem to be rewarded nonetheless while I suffer, yet having faith that at some point, it will all come out to balance. The bad part is that I have plenty of time to relive my memories and renew doubts all over again. I suppose doubt is an aspect of faith, so that is normal. It is tough to analyze yourself, particularly when you realize your life is probably winding down, either realistically or just shrinking in scope and experience. The answers are not always pleasant. I guess that’s why few do it, and instead congregate among the likeminded, right or wrong, for reasurance they are on the straight and narrow. I don’t have that luxury, never did, and never will. I wonder if that makes me more or less fortunate?