The Questioners and The Comfortable: Toward a Healthy, Robust Community

There's a river, swift and raging and growing bigger every day, of people who are leaving: leaving church, leaving evangelicalism, leaving orthodoxy, leaving God altogether. They are wounded, cynical, discouraged, and angry. And more than a few of them are sad to be leaving, but feel there is no place left for them in the traditional church. The reasons are as varied as the people who make them, but there is one theme that flows like a strong undercurrent, forcefully lending speed to the waters. There is one accusation that recurs again and again, murmered, whispered, shouted, or thrown like a dagger to strike a mortal blow:

"My questions weren't welcome."

I have read so many stories of sincere and intelligent, tenderhearted people who were earnestly seeking to understand God and the Bible - people who asked honest, difficult questions - who were made to feel unwelcome by Those In Charge. Their questions, their very presence in the church, were viewed as a threat. Their struggles and doubt and openness to shades of gray were viewed as a disease, which, if given a voice, might spread and infect others in the church. Some were silenced. Others were asked or forced to leave. 

Not all of us have such scary questions. Some are content with a simple faith, one that doesn't ask much but trusts completely, and nestles into the comfort of unquestioning faith. Some have questions but have learned through trial and error which ones are safe to speak out loud, and which are better left unasked. Some have no questions left because they presume to have found all the answers. But others - a growing number in our postmodern age - are full to bursting with questions that cannot be silenced and will not be pacified with pat answers. 

Is There Childcare in the Desert?

I wrote up a rather passionate post last week, but in the end I decided it was a good vent, but a bad post. As Steve pointed out to me, it'll need a few more drafts. Stay tuned.

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In the meantime, I've decided to tell you about the great new book I mentioned in my last post, titled In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore. Let me begin by saying This Book is Awesome!! I've only read the first fifty-something pages, but I'm savoring it as I go, luxuriating in the feeling of releasing some of my previous ideas about what constitutes or contributes to true and meaningful spirituality. The guilt is lifting, by degrees.

Even the preface made me feel encouraged. Here's how she concludes her introduction:

Now I release this book, imperfections and all, and bless it on its way to you. Rather than additional burden or guilt, I hope it will free you to practice your faith more abundantly, loving those around you in the midst of life's craziness and letting go of failures, faults, limitations, and sorrows to live more deeply in grace. (xx)

In Chapter 1, Contemplating in Chaos, Miller-McLemore challenges the pervasive belief that spiritual transformation of the highest order happens in solitude: peaceful, prayerful, and silent. We have romanticized and idolized the stations of monk, pastor, or ascetic as the most suited to spiritual growth and development. People such as these have the necessary space to make room for God in a way that your average parent of children simply can't...or so we've often been led to believe. As a new mom and inexperienced Bible Study leader of a group of moms, I once brought up Martin Luther's comments regarding his prayer life in the midst of busyness. He wasn't too busy to pray, he said, rather his busyness was exactly why he needed to pray, on average, 2-3 hours a day. I cringe at the memory of the guilt I must've inflicted on these women (myself included).