Ya Basic: The Calvinism Edition
Hey there. Hi. How are you? Long time no see. I have been absolutely, head-spinningly, crazy busy. But here we are, on the eleventh day of February in 2020 and I’m finally writing the first real blog article of the year. Those who have hung around here before and know me, know this: I’m a big believer in an examined faith. If we don’t take the time to examine what we believe and why, we can end up with all sorts of crazy theologies in our heads and a lot of them can be nothing more than glorified superstition. In a time when the evangelical church is coming under increasing, and I believe deserved, scrutiny, Biblical knowledge a noble pursuit.
The truth is, it is easy to walk into churches that feel good, sound good and speak about nice things, but be none the wiser when it comes to what they believe. I also believe that, with the emergence of a trend towards going independent, ideas can permeate the pulpit and sound original, but hail from older theologies. Is this a bad thing? Not always. I’m all for modernising the word and making it more understandable and accessible. But here’s the thing: older theologies often have a little more conversation and criticism around them, meaning it is easier to see what is solid and what isn’t.
Before I delve into the basics of one of the big thinkers of the Protestant Reformation (circa the 1500’s), I want to say this: I’m a layperson. I don’t have a theology degree. I don’t claim to know it all. I’m just a regular Jo, working her way through life and trying to do her best with faith and followership. There are whole books arguing for and against this next topic! I’m just giving you my super quick cooks tour of it.
Without further ado, meet John Calvin. The TULIP guy.
The 1500’s were a turbulent time for Christianity. The Roman Catholic Church, which had enjoyed a position of privilege in society, was undergoing the throes of what would later become known as the Protestant Reformation – a significant split from the institution. John Calvin was a French theologian born into a catholic family but later went protestant after studying philosophy, humanism and law. He stepped up to the plate in the mid 1500’s and began to help popularise a few things ideas that have hung on until today, namely; belief in the sovereignty of God in all things, and the doctrine of predestination.
Why did I call him the TULIP Guy? Because he had five points and the best acronym people have come up with for that is a flower. (Hey, I like flowers!) Christianity.com briefly explains the five main points of Calvinism as this:
Total Depravity – asserts that as a consequence of the fall of man into sin, every person is enslaved to sin. People are not by nature inclined to love God, but rather to serve their own interests and to reject the rule of God.
Unconditional Election – asserts that God has chosen from eternity those whom he will bring to himself not based on foreseen virtue, merit, or faith in those people; rather, his choice is unconditionally grounded in his mercy alone. God has chosen from eternity to extend mercy to those he has chosen and to withhold mercy from those not chosen.
Limited Atonement – asserts that Jesus’s substitutionary atonement was definite and certain in its purpose and in what it accomplished. This implies that only the sins of the elect were atoned for by Jesus’s death.
Irresistible Grace – asserts that the saving grace of God is effectually applied to those whom he has determined to save (that is, the elect) and overcomes their resistance to obeying the call of the gospel, bringing them to a saving faith. This means that when God sovereignly purposes to save someone, that individual certainly will be saved.
Perseverance of the Saints – asserts that since God is sovereign and his will cannot be frustrated by humans or anything else, those whom God has called into communion with himself will continue in faith until the end.
Okay! Big ideas here. Big ideas that have permeated church until today. I always used to just think “Yep, okay cool” when it came to Calvinism, but the more I grow in my faith and deconstruction, the more I can see some fundamental flaws in the logic. Most of them pertain to the middle three points. Let’s start with unconditional election: the idea that we are either doomed to hell or destined for heaven from the dawn of time is something I find deeply troubling. We have scriptures such as John 3:16 (For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son that *whosoever* believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life) or Acts 2:21 and Romans 10:13 that guarantee that anyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.
Then there is Romans 5:18 that says “as through one transgression, there resulted condemnation to all men, even so through one act of righteousness, there resulted justification of life to all.” 1 Timothy 2:24 talks about Gods desire for all to be saved, and Titus 2:11 speaks about God bringing salvation to all. 2 Peter 3:9 says that God’s desire is that none should perish. These scriptures seem to be at odds not only with unconditional election, but the idea of limited atonement too.
The idea that there is an in crowd destined for heaven and an out crowd destined for hell, and we have no choice as to which crowd we are in, is deeply flawed. Yes, I know there is that verse that says “many are called but few are chosen.” This is an unsettling parable that shows that even though the invitation to salvation goes out to all, only some show up. These are the chosen. The elect. And there is Ephesians 1:4 that refers to the elect that God has chosen before the foundation of the world. So I can see where Calvin was getting his ideas from. However, the greater story arc that stretches through the Bible shows the nature of God to be one where He wants to redeem all. Why would he then only redeem some and eternally doom the rest from before their time on earth begins?
All of this hails back to the idea of predestination and God’s sovereignty: ie. that we cannot change what God has already decided so we are sealed in our fate. Now, both of these can be argued biblically both ways. We could have two skilled debaters on the platform using only biblical knowledge as their argument and it would make sense.
But for me, there is a chink in the chain mail. Why send your only begotten son to die for only some? Why create a soul that you love, that you care for, only to decide from the outset that they are destined to burn. We are introduced to God as being “love” and as being a loving father. As a parent, this speaks to me. I have two beautiful kids. You want me to choose one to live forever in a glorious afterlife and the other to burn for eternity?
Nope. I’m choosing both of my kids for the good stuff. No one burns. So that’s me, with two kids. Two kids I love so much I’d walk through fire for them. I’m not writing either one of them out of the will. I love them, thus I will do everything I can for them.
In pulpits everywhere, we are taught about God’s unconditional and sacrificial love for us. It’s an argument seated solidly in scripture. How then are we supposed to argue that only some of us actually have tickets to take advantage of it, especially given all the scriptures I quoted above.
Now I get it; if God is omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent and all the omni’s, then He already sees and knows our choices. He already sees and knows who will take Him up on the offer of salvation. But does that mean that it is not freely offered to all? I think not. A hard core calvinist, when asking themselves a few questions would have to come to the conclusion that God knew and even desired for sin to enter the world from the beginning, that there is no point praying to bring unbelievers to faith because its either going to happen or not anyway, that Jesus didn’t die for everybody, and if we take the concept of predestination to the extreme, that God ordained things like the holocaust, murders, tragedies or sexual crimes.
Now to the idea of irresistible grace – that if we are the elect, nothing we can do can separate us from God’s grace and atonement. It’s a lovely idea. So lovely. I believe in the all sufficiency of God’s grace. However, the idea that the elect get this conscience clearing superpass to heaven no matter what they do, while those who are not in the elect get the short straw and go to hell no matter what they do is troubling.
It paints God as a masochist. A bit of an arsehole dad – who made a whole bunch of kids and decided a large portion of them weren’t good enough to eat at the family table, and who killed one of them to redeem only some of them.
Now to the idea of total depravity. Okay – I have no problem with the idea of sin. Sin, as falling short of a lofty, Godlike standard is just the human condition. We are all flawed in some way. We are all great in some way. We are all doing the best we can. But calling it total depravity is a whole new level.
To say “For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God” is a recognition of our human flaws. It is a recognition that we are not God and we need God. I like that. I’m fine with that.
Now look to your local maternity ward. Inside the nursery, swaddled in whites, are tiny babies. They are so new to the world that they don’t have a functioning prefrontal cortex. They don’t have awareness of what is right and wrong. They have awareness of hunger, tiredness and discomfort. This is not total depravity. This is innocence.
I have two preschoolers. Even in all the tantrums and tears and the selfishness of always wanting the bigger slice or the cooler toy, I can’t call it total depravity. Inside their brains is a firestorm of growth. They are learning who they are apart from me. They are learning how to assert themselves, and the difference between justified frustration and an unjustified tantrum. Even now, I can’t call their poor decision making total depravity. Because as frustrating as it is, it is innocent.
If you argue that total depravity sets in at the point where a person has a fully functioning prefrontal cortex and can make conscious decisions, then fine. But answer me this: the emergence of the atheist movement over time seems to have shown that people can be altruistic and seek to create a better world even if they aren’t Christians. It seems to show that ethics and unconditional love aren’t the domain of the redeemed alone. I look to those who campaign for human rights and I see God in them regardless of whether or not they believe.
At what point then, do we become totally depraved? You can look at the Ted Bundy’s of the world and think “Yep, depraved.” You can look at the Hitlers of the world and think “Heck. Absolutely. Depraved.” But a four-year old who just wants to faceplate directly into the top of the watermelon instead of waiting for mummy to slice it? He’s just learning patience and doing badly at it.
For all have sinned, fine. For all are flawed, absolutely. Depraved? I can’t come at that. We are all just doing our best. It’s just a shame our best isn’t Godlike, or the world would be a more peaceful place.
Look – I was going to try and argue for Calvinism. But it turns out I can’t. Someone else can! Heck, if you feel like it, pop me a note and you can guest blog on it! Be my guest!
The Bible is a complex document. It is rich in historical and cultural context that we often miss. The Protestant Reformation was an important time in history where mankind started to re-take the reigns of faith that had been handed off to the clergy. It gave us an opportunity to participate in faith to a whole new degree. It was an important development.
But there is a line somewhere in the Bible that says God builds line upon line, and precept upon precept. We, as Christians, progressives even, in the year 2020, need to take our faith and understanding further. And that means understanding what it is built on now.
Until next time,
Kit K, predestined since the beginning of time to write this blog article and publish it without proofreading it on February 11th 2020.
Peace
PSA: God Doesn’t Kill People in Bushfires
Okay. My least favourite athlete is back in the news – perhaps because he and Margaret Court like to compete for titles (like Australia’s biggest homophobe). I joke. I joke. But he claimed this weekend that the bushfires in Queensland are God’s judgement for abortion and marriage equality laws. When lives are lost in natural disasters and an accusation like this comes out, it’s no joke. But sadly, it’s not even new. Daniel Naliah made the same claim about abortion law and bushfires back in 2009.
It was outrageous and unbiblical then, and it’s outrageous and unbiblical now. But with lives lost, Imma drop a microblog on it to drop a few Biblical truthbombs.
Here they are. I’m sure there is more, but here’s the start:
Isaiah 51:6 describes some pretty heavy weather but promises his salvation shall endure. (I.e. He doesn’t kill people via extreme weather)
Luke 9:56 says Jesus came to save our lives not destroy them.
Matt 18:4 says it’s not God’s will that even one should perish.
Noah’s flood, and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah occurred before the Old Testament/New Testament split whereby Jesus took the judgement of Mankind.
Even if this wasn’t the case, Abraham negotiated with God in Genesis 18:16ff and God said that if there were even 10 good men in Sodom and Gomorrah, he wouldn’t destroy it. I know there are more than 10 good men in Australia.
This is a long way of say that Izzy Folau’s statements are unbiblical, unfounded fear-mongering that does nothing but tarnish the name and perceived-nature of God. God doesn’t kill people because of law changes. But maybe we should pay some attention to climate change (which, believe it or not is not a religious issue! You can be a Christian and reject single use plastic because it’s bad for the environment).
Anyway. Hi! It’s Monday. Hope your’s is good. It’s going to be a huge week on the blog here, and I’m working really hard on some kicking’ content for you. If you haven’t subscribed yet, get on it friends. You won’t want to miss Thursday’s piece.
Have a great week, safe in the knowledge that God isn’t burning Australia down or causing crippling drought. Comforting, yeah?
Kit K.
Deliverance: What the Hell?
I debated putting the word “Heck” in the subject line there, but look – I’m partial to a truly awful pun. However, I’m not partial to truly awful theology and/or spiritual abuse. Hence, I need to pull on my big girl panties and talk about what I said I’d talk about at the close of my last article: deliverance. It came at the conclusion of a discussion about mental health and Christians, specifically whether or not Christians can suffer from depression. For the longest time, depression, anxiety or other mental illnesses have carried an unfortunate inference in Christian circles: that they may be somehow, in some cases, spiritually underpinned. Read my last piece for my thoughts about that. But now we move on to the chunkier part of the argument: deliverance. Oh brother.
I’ll start with a story, perhaps a cautionary tale. Once upon a time, I was struggling with a few dud hands life had dealt me. I found a counsellor that did wonders. I was making progress. Then I got in a *ahem* discussion with my pastor. He “suggested” strongly that I drop that counsellor and do something else. I said, “No thank you, this is working and I want to stick with it.” Next came a big reaction and the “suggestion” that I fly to a neighbouring country to go through a power-deliverance experience with a minister flown in from America. When I say “Power-deliverance” I mean the hard-core evangelical experience of being prayed over and having someone command spirits to come out of you. That was not my cup of tea, because I wasn’t dealing with demons. I was dealing with grief, loss and a few weird/traumatic curveballs. Even if this wasn’t the case, it still didn’t exactly sit right with me.
Anyway. The message I got from that interaction was “You are under the influence of demons. They need to be cast out of you.” I was flabbergasted. I sat on the couch and blinked while my wonderful husband recognised the signs of PTSD raising its head again and flew in to bat for me.
Thank God he did. Because I believe a power-deliverance experience like that would have been profoundly damaging for two reasons: It would have been administered without true consent, only guilt and shame over alleged “demonic influence” that would have lead me to discount the validity of my choice in all of this, and because being in the atmosphere described by the people who went to see this deliverance person would have undoubtedly triggered my PTSD. That would have looked like some evidence of demonic influence, and a vicious cycle would have continued. Gentle, qualified counselling however, worked great. (Side note: I am doing very well now. Thanks for asking!)
I tell this story for a couple of reasons: the practice of “deliverance” isn’t gone from the church. Not even close. Christian mega-church “Bethel” recently launched a gay conversion therapy program which would likely have some element of deliverance in it. If you plug the term “deliverance ministry” into a search engine, you will get all sorts of hits. But simplest truth is this: many Christian people have experienced it. Some feel good about it. Some say they feel good about it. Some really don’t.
I admit I sit in a place of privilege here. I know my own mind. I know the Bible to a fairly decent (though not scholarly) degree. I’m well read. I am a level-headed and self-assured person who has witnessed a good many Christian lurks and quirks over the years. It is with all of this in mind that I assert the following: there are three types of deliverance. You probably REALLY don’t need the third.
I’ll say straight off the bat that this is an uncomfortable topic for me. But I’m writing about it because as the NAR and Neocharismatic movements gain speed, as pseudo-Christian doctrines can be taken up without so much as a reference check, and as paganism and Christian spiritual warfare appear to show significant overlap in the Venn-diagram of modern spiritual practices, its important to know BS when you see it. And its important to know what you need, and your rights when you are speaking with the clergy.
Before you say it: Yes, Jesus engaged in power-deliverance in the New Testament. We see it when he cast the demons out of the man who self-identified as having a legion of demons within him (Mark 5, Luke 8). Now, this is an interesting one, because we are talking here about a raving lunatic so dangerous he could not be held with chains. We also witness Jesus converse with the man and then agree to send the evil spirits into the pigs (2000 of them. Bacon exports from the Gerasene Region were poor that week).
Now: we don’t know what significant psychiatric disorder this man may have had. We know he lived in a time where modern medicine did not exist, but spiritual practice was a lot more common. He was dealing with God made flesh, who had perfect knowledge of the situation. Therefore human error is removed from the equation.
The world has changed. Deliverance practitioners are now thoroughly and completely human with imperfect knowledge. They are largely unqualified (I mean, I haven’t read of a university with a degree in casting out demons – have you?). We have modern medicine that can bring calm when needed. We have anti-psychotic medication for extreme cases like the Gerasene man in Luke 8 and Mark 5). There is literally no reason or excuse for someone in 2019 to be forced into an exorcism. (When I say forced, I mean forced literally, or made to feel such shame that they submit under emotional duress). By and large, I don’t think this is what happened in the Gerasene case (but that’s a much larger conversation – too big for this tiny blog)
And side note: in John 8: 52, Jesus was told he was demon-possessed and then the pharisees tried to stone him. So thats fun. ANYWAY! On to the meaty part of this blog article. What do I believe every Christian needs to know about deliverance?
The first type of deliverance is Salvation. When you read through the gospels and their account of Jesus death on the cross for the forgiveness of sins and humankinds reconciliation to God through Him, you read a powerful, all-encompassing and complete process. John 19:30 sees Jesus utter “it is finished.” Revelation 1:18 and surrounding scriptures chronicle Jesus’ descent into Hades to take the keys of death and hell. Ephesians 1:7 and 13 talk about the gifts of salvation and of the Holy Spirit. Perhaps most poignantly Phillipians 2:11 says “At the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” I.e. Once you believe in Jesus and have accepted the gift of the Holy Spirit who dwells in you, that’s it. This is the bit where you can all sing Stevie Wonder’s “Signed, sealed, delivered.”
I could delve into all sorts of exegesis and hermeneutics about all the scriptures used here, but that would be a thesis in and of itself. The critical takeaway point is this: what Jesus did is thorough, complete and a finished work of deliverance in and of itself. We accept that then there’s no space left open for demonic possession. Ephesians 1:13 even calls it the “Seal” of the Holy Spirit. To say that someone can be born again and still demon possessed is a fallacy.
Another day, I will debate what salvation means. But for now, I’ll point you to Romans 10:9 and John 3:16 and get on with my day.
The second type of deliverance is the word of God. Pentecostal and Charismatic Christians will likely be familiar with the old exclusion clause that helps deliverance ministries get around the complete nature of deliverance at the point of salvation. They say things like “Okay. You aren’t possessed, because if you are a Christian you can’t be, but you might be under the influence.” This is where the second type of deliverance comes in: it is the gradual strengthening of a person as they know more about the word and nature of God, and know more about their own mind and how it works. Romans 12:1-2 says “Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind that you may prove what is the good and acceptable and perfect will of God.”
I like the word “prove” here. I think of a math proof – where the answer to a problem is explained via the process the mathematician used to get there. It’s not a matter of having someone pray for you to be all transformed and then “wham bam” I’ve totally changed how I think. That simply doesn’t last. Its the crash diet of Christianity. Old habits return. We see this in the parable of the empty house in Matthew 12:43-45 (where the tenant is evicted from the house, returns finding it empty, and brings seven friends back). It’s a simple illustration that we can’t just get rid of one way of thinking, living and being, and replace it with nothing. Old habits die hard. That’s why we learn, we study. We take in the scriptures, think about them, enact them and have them become part of our lives. It’s a gradual process of transformation and frankly, it’s beautiful.
Now I’m going to do something heretical here and suggest that the use of the word ‘mind’ in this scripture should suggest to us that we look after the mind in the same way we do the body. i.e. If there is something not quite right, we get help. If you are a reader of my blog, you’ll know I love therapy. I don’t just go when I’m not doing well. I go when I’m doing well so I might learn to do better. The wisdom I have gained from understanding how my mind works has been life-changing. I recently spoke to a person who had been advised by her pastors not to go see a secular therapist and had lived with decades of torment. My heart broke for her. That is bad advice. It’s like telling someone only to go to a Christian doctor when the only specialists available to save a life might be non-Christian.
A good therapist is qualified in the science of Psychology. They will counsel you towards your goals and in accordance with your own values. You will get value out of it. It’s worth shopping around for. So here is the heretical bit: the ‘mind’ is hard to define, but its largely thought of as the brain in action. When the Dalai Lama asked “Can the mind change the brain” in the 1980’s, he was laughed at. Then science caught on to what he was talking about, and now we have a far better understanding that we run our brains. They don’t run us. The field of neuroplasticity is proof of this.
There is a long-held argument in Christian circles that our mind and our spirit are different things: that we are a tripartite being comprising mind, spirit and body. However, there is another, lesser-known theory buried within Christian scholarship that holds to a dichotomy rather than a trichotomy. I err on the side of ‘dichotomy’. But regardless of which side you come down on, here is something I believe solidly: While you are learning about your faith, your God, and your guidebook (being the Bible), it is a good thing to also learn about yourself. Was it Socrates who said, “Know thyself?” It is a profound and beautiful thing when you can reflect on your own growth, or reflect on how the Bible in all its complexity might help you grow. This growth, led by the word and spirit of God, is a form of deliverance.
So now for the third type of deliverance: the power ministries. Green vomit. Exorcisms. Etc. I did a bit of searching on this before writing this blog piece. I was aghast to discover that it hasn’t really progressed in its rational or methodology since Derek Prince Ministries released a document on it in 1985. Detailed in that document was a whole lot of demonology in dot point format with no real rationale or exegesis attached to it. I’m sure, in other corners of the internet, there is better documentation on it. I’m also sure that people can use all sorts of out of context scriptural arguments to back up their positions. The fact of the matter is that for the most part, the stuff I’ve read has relied upon “divine revelation” to spell out how to approach exorcism. This, for me, is wildly concerning.
Now I want to flag a danger here: it is so easy for the area of exorcism to cross over into abuse. It is so easy for it to happen without genuine or even explicit consent. It is so easy for a person to be shamed into it, or for it to be based on bad theology.
This is dangerous. So very dangerous. It is my belief that, in this day and age, it should be avoided at all costs. When the first two deliverance options are complete in nature and process, there is no need for the third. If you feel there is a need for the third, I’d encourage medical assistance, counselling and more time dedicated the process of healing and transformation before you opt for the third. Do the work first. In life, as in mental health or even diets, you can’t cut corners. This could be a serious psychiatric problem that exorcisms might only make worse.
I’ve seen a few of these “casting out demons” moments in my time. If anything, I believe it gave someone an experience that was profound enough to allow them to tell themself a different story and empower them towards recovery. I cannot tell you what else (if anything) happened. But sometimes that’s all that is needed: that boost that allows the mind to break out of the familiar pathways it has been caught in for years and experience something new. But in other situations, all I can see in power-deliverance ministries is bad theology and stage-craft. I am not all-knowing. There might be something in it. But for me, it’s a hard pass. Leave it to the Son of God and the original apostles. Guiding people through the first two options, and when needed referring to mental health professionals, should be all we need.
I don’t discount the power of prayer. It is clearly Biblical. It is clearly a practice that has carried down through cultures and generations. It can be helpful and calming. If someone needs or requests prayer for assistance, then more power to them. Support them. But don’t overstep the mark of what they are actually asking for. God isn’t waiting for someone to pray for you so He can do something. He already sent Jesus to do it. He needs no middle man. And I can’t stress this enough: shame, guilt, or feeling like someone thinks you need deliverance doesn’t mean you need to go through with an exorcism.
A moment of willingness to seek out or submit to prayer should not be used as an opportunity to be subjected to exorcisms or power-deliverance. I believe that this is an overstepping of consent at best, and spiritual abuse at worst. If in your own time you experience some profound moment in which something becomes clear and you become changed, wonderful. Bookmark that moment and celebrate it. But for someone else to step into that place and do it for you concerns me a little.
The human mind/spirit is an amazing thing. In it dwells the power to hurt and heal, grow and change, learn and develop. When we harness that mind in combination with faith in a Saviour who has done all the supernatural stuff that will ever be needed, then we have a complete picture of deliverance.
That, I believe, is all we need.
Peace
Kit K.
Can Christian’s Suffer From Depression?
It seems that my corner of the interwebs is all lit up with mental health awareness messages this week. It’s possibly because of ‘RUOK? Day’ that just passed in Australia, possibly because its Mental Health Awareness Month in the United States, and possibly because I follow a lot of people on Twitter who are grieving the death of Jarrid Wilson. He was a pastor and mental health advocate who tragically lost his battle with depression, even more tragically it was on the day he officiated the funeral of another Christian who lost her battle with depression. In amongst the outpouring of grief, the voice of ignorance seems to have raised itself in the form of people who assert that Christians can’t have mental illnesses, or that suffering from a mental illness disqualifies them from the ministry. This is a dangerous belief; one that is unbiblical and unhelpful at best, and flat out dangerous at worst. In a time when mental illness is thought to affect up to 25% of us, its not good enough to turn a deaf ear to such rubbish. So let’s talk about it.
First cab off the rank: Can Christians Suffer from Mental Illness? Short answer? Yes, they can. But of course, there is more to it than that. For some, this question stems from the NAR/Bethel-Esque belief that total healing from all conditions is guaranteed at the point of salvation. Thus, if someone is born again in Christ, they won’t suffer from mental illness, or indeed any other illness (!!! More on that later). For others, it comes from an antiquated and even subconscious belief that mental illness is demonic or spiritual in origin. Now, thankfully most Christian’s will at least acknowledge that some depression can have neurological or physiological origins. But others hold to the idea that depression is a spiritual, demonic or sin-related malady.
*sigh*
The latter is not helpful. And it’s not true.
Let me switch out my “Christian blogger” hat for my “Research blogger” hat for a second. Here’s what research tells us about depression: it is neurological. Every time. It is physiological. Every time. Why? Because thoughts, feelings, ruminations and such all take place in the brain which is a physical and neurological thing, and having stressors (whether they are physical, chemical or emotional) often factor into the etiology of depressive disorders. The research is a little fuzzy on why serotonin reuptake inhibitors help in a lot of cases, but it seems to have something to do with the neurotransmitters that help signals jump from one neuron to another (i.e. that lovely serotonin in your brain and gut that bathes your neurocircuitry).
There is also emerging research that indicates depression is an inflammation issue, and there are well-established links between mental health and gut health (with the gut being home to the enteric nervous system which houses billions of neurons and communicates to the brain via the vagus nerve and the gut-brain axis. I.e. Many depression sufferers have gut problems, too.
Depression is physical. Read that again. Depression is a physical issue. It’s time we stopped treating mental health as some ethereal, intangible thing. Its time we stopped saying “Oh its all in your head.” Guess what: your head is a tangible thing. Your brain is a tangible thing. If its all in your head, it exists. The thoughts of the mind (with the mind being the brain in action) can be seen on brain scans in the form of neuronal pathways lighting up on the screen. The activity of the limbic system (which governs our emotions) is something that can be measured. We can also measure sympathetic function (the sympathetic nervous system is the part of the nervous system that fires up under stress, and kicks our survival mechanisms into play). Thus, mental illness is tangible in many ways. (Research blogger hat now removed, FYI)
So when you ask yourself if a Christian can have depression, you are really asking whether a Christian can experience physical illness, inflammation, chronic or acute stress, or gut problems. If you can have diarrhea after you eat something you shouldn’t, your Christian brother or sister can have depression. One is no more demonic than the other. Yes, one is more short term than the other (hopefully!) but the point still stands.
Have you ever taken a panadol/Tylenol or aspirin for a headache? Have you ever put an icepack on a sprained ankle or knee? Have you ever gone to the doctor for an upset tummy or other condition? It might have been easy to say that it’s okay for you to suffer from those ailments because its just life, yet turn to depression and related illnesses and say “but that’s not.”
That, right there, is hypocritical. I’m coming out of the gate firing on this one because it matters. If we apply shame is to physical, neurological, chemical conditions that manifest as depression or other mental illnesses we may inadvertently create a situation in which someone may feel shame in getting help. This is the danger of bad theology. It can, quite literally, put a life at risk. People! Let’s not do this! Let’s make churches a safe place for someone to say “I think I’m depressed” and receive support in getting help – not shame or demotions.
It is my belief that depression should not be treated as a spiritual issue. It should be treated as a very real, very serious condition that requires a holistic approach for treatment. That approach should include professional (qualified) help such as counselling and medication. It should include diet and exercise (which is often prescribed as part of the action plan). The place where church should come into a Christian’s action plan is that it should provide community, pastoral support, an opportunity to connect in a positive environment, receive peace and encouragement through scripture (etc), and receive prayer for encouragement or healing if if IF the depression sufferer asks for it. *The latter should never be administered as the sole approach to recovery.* I say this as a person who has been ashamed to admit that attempts at faith healing had failed. In my case it was shoulder and elbow damage after an accident. It was obvious my conditions hadn’t been healed and I felt shame. The hidden shame when a mental illness isn’t healed by faith could be dangerous.
I do believe in prayer. I do believe that when we turn to God, He can perform miracles. I don’t believe that should be the only approach with mental illness. To limit “treatment” to faith healing could be deadly because it could cause a person to feel shame or failure if it doesn’t work. Worse still, it could cause them to feel pressure to act like all is well, or discontinue other treatment. I sweat at the thought.
A particularly concerning doctrine regarding and all healing is an increasingly prevalent belief in some NAR churches that healing from all maladies is guaranteed at the point of salvation. I mentioned it at the top of this piece and I’ll mention it again here: it’s not true and it’s not helpful. We can’t measure the quality of our salvation on whether or not our cancerous tumours disappeared when we said the prayer. Nor can we measure it on whether or not our depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, bipolar, (etc. etc. etc.) disappeared when we said the prayer. Some people may get healed when they invite Jesus into their hearts. GOOD for them. Some people may take years to heal. Good for them. Others may be healed in eternity. Good for them. The fact is every walk with God is different and none should be judged against another.
Paul had a “thorn in his side.” Jacob had a limp. No one would look at them and say “disqualified.” God certainly wouldn’t. We shouldn’t do this to people who suffer mental illness.
Now to the question of whether or not someone should be in the ministry if they suffer from depression or another mental illness. I’d like to turn your attention to King David. As the author of many of the Psalms, it has often been questioned whether his natural artistry and melancholy crossed the line into depression or bipolar disorder. It’s possible! Some of those Psalms are dark! But he was called ‘a man after God’s own heart,’ depression or not. Then there is Elijah the prophet: perhaps the clearest example of burnout or depression in ministry, when the burdens of the call proved too much to bear and he felt the need to hide in a cave for three years and not look after himself (thank God for sending the birds as a catering service). Jeremiah was called the weeping prophet. King Saul had moments of extreme darkness (not that he was a pillar of godliness, I know). All these illustrate the point that the personal struggles or mental illnesses of some of the greatest Bible heroes did not disqualify them from serving God.
Nor should it disqualify our modern ministers from serving God. What it should mean is better support around them, and medical help if required. It should mean that their occupational oversight makes sure they take their holidays every year to recharge the batteries and that stress or complexity is well-managed within the context of their role. It shouldn’t mean they feel shame over their condition or hide it from those around them while wondering why God hasn’t cured them yet.
In a secular workplace, you might feel the need to take extended leave if you were suffering to the point where it was affecting your job. A pastor may need that from time to time if his or her condition is serious or worrying, or that sharing other peoples burdens (as they so often do) is proving too much. That should be okay. I see it as the duty of care the denomination or oversight owes to their pastor. (If a church is independent, this would be difficult. Yet another reason I’m cautious of independent churches – but that’s another topic for another day).
So if you are a minister or a Christian feeling shame about mental illness – please don’t. We didn’t see God shaming Elijah, David, Noah, or many others for their walks with the black dog. You are loved as you are, valued as you are, and precious to God as you are – but don’t mess around with this illness. Please. You deserve care and the best chance at recovery.
“Now Kit, you’ve taken a very unspiritual look at this problem,” I hear you say. “Where does spiritual stuff fit in?” I know many people still believe there is potential spiritual involvement in illnesses including mental illnesses. I have heard of people doing prayer counselling to remove generational curses and such. I’m going to do another piece on this because it’s a loaded topic so come back next week for that one. But here’s the scoop: there are three forms of deliverance. The first happens at the point of salvation. The second happens more gradually, as we consume and internalise the word of God. The third is so rare and problematic I’d almost call it needless in a modern setting where the consent issue can push it over into spiritual abuse.
While it is obvious that Jesus cast out spirits in some extreme cases in the New Testament (the one with Legion and the herd of pigs in Mark 5/Luke 8 for example), He had the benefit of one thing: He was God and had perfect insight into the situation. He was yet to give His life for the redemption of humanity. He was yet to send the Holy Spirit as our helper, counsellor and guide. These are benefits that we now have. To invoke power-deliverance ministries and ignore the health-related fields dedicated to a more gentle and therapeutic approach to mental illness is, in my opinion, needless and dangerous. As Christians, as the living representation of Christ on earth, it is our duty to tread very carefully with the most vulnerable of people. But more on that next week.
I hope you’re intrigued. See you again soon
Peace
Kit K
Riding the Third Wave: The Neocharismatic Movement
I feel like this blog post could open with a Matrix pun. In fact, as a kid who grew up in the neo-charismatic movement, I’ve heard a good many youth-centred messages that included the old “red pill, blue pill, choose your reality” message extracted from the wisdom of the Wachowskis (who wrote the screenplay). But I’ll refrain. I’m about to launch into an interesting series on the link between modern spiritual warfare and paganism. But in order to preface that, we need to know what the New Apostolic Reformation is (see last weeks post) and what the Neo-Charismatic Movement is. They are intertwined, but also quite distinct from each other. So here we go: the history-hack takes on the third wave. Up, up and away.
The Third Wave Charismatic Movement is known by a few names. Among them are the terms neo-charismatic and hyper-charismatic and of the two, I think the latter makes the most sense. Essentially, it’s a relatively recent movement within evangelicalism, which in itself is a broad term taking in a good many expressions of faith (all of which involve evangelism or the spread of Christianity). To understand the neo-charistmatic movement, we need to know what came before it and what it looks like today.
The first wave: Pentecostalism circa 1900
This “first wave” as some historians call it was undoubtedly an exciting time in the life of the church universal. Marked by revivalists and revivals (such as Azusa Street), it was a renewal movement within protestant Christianity that did away with the cessationist idea that the spiritual gifts had disappeared from the church. The Pentecostal movement saw the restoration of prophecy, healing and speaking in tongues to the church. Since Azusa Street (which seems to have become the historical marker of Pentecostalism’s emergence), this movement has swept across the world and with it, the classical beliefs within Pentecostalism have spread. These include but are not limited to (because lets remember I’m a hack of a historian):
Evangelism
The reliability and infallibility of the Bible (in fact, many pentecostals seem to be Biblical Literalists)
Salvation by grace through faith, and then transformation of ones life through Jesus.
Baptism, as in baptism into Christ at salvation, then Baptism in water and Baptism with the Holy Spirit where the gift of tongues is received.
The eminent return of Jesus.
Other doctrines such as divine healing, spiritual gifts, and worship through songs, prayers, communion, giving and other methods.
All in all, pentecostalism has offered great gifts to the world. It seemed to be an alternative to the stagnation that other faith institutions were/are experiencing. It offered a shared experience of faith which was a relatively new experience. There were some big names in this movement, of course. People like Charles Parham and William J Seymour were teaching on speaking in tongues, divine healing and evangelism. Gone were the silent observances of faith, mediated by the much revered clergy, and in came the participatory revival experiences that immersed believers in a new experience of Christianity.
There have been a good many big names, controversies and developments within the Pentecostal movement over the years (which would take forever to cover off on). I can’t help but think of the tele-evangelists of the 1980’s and 1990’s and wonder where they fit in – names like Kenneth Copeland, Benny Hinn, Yonghi-Cho and others that rang loud through-out my childhood. They were hardly the revivalist types (like Parham and Seymour), but attempted to take the Pentecostal church experience into lounge rooms.
Truthfully, you could exist in a Pentecostal church, be touched by the evangelical charismatic movement and still be influenced by the neo-charismatic movement in tandem. One wave seems to roll into another quiet seemlessly.
The second wave: The evangelical charismatic movement of the 1960’s
Charismatic Evangelicalism amassed a wide following and built on the pentecostal doctrine with two major differences: it did not major on speaking in tongues as evidence of being baptised in the Holy Spirit, but it did major on the spiritual gifts (prophecy, healing, faith, healing, miracles, discernment of spirits, tongues). While, as I said above, these two “waves” or movements seem to roll in pretty effortlessly with each other, there were clashes aplenty. One was this “the failure of Charismatics to embrace traditional Pentecostal taboos on dancing, drinking alcohol, smoking, and restrictions on dress and appearance [that] initiated an identity crisis for classical Pentecostals, who were forced to reexamine long held assumptions about what it meant to be Spirit filled. The liberalizing influence of the Charismatic Movement on classical Pentecostalism can be seen in the disappearance of many of these taboos since the 1960s. Because of this, the cultural differences between classical Pentecostals and charismatics have lessened over time.”
Looking back through my experience in Christianity, it seems that many people don’t know exactly where they fit on the Pentecostal/Charismatic scale. It is said that Pentecostals believe that speaking in tongues is necessary evidence of the Baptism of the Holy Spirit, and that they are more strict on the taboos mentioned in the quote above, while Charismatics aren’t too fussed on either of these things. I guess I grew up Charismatic, but even within this, I was touched by the purity movement which (functionally if not explicitly) placed restrictions on dress and appearance). I had my first drink of alcohol at age 25, and dancing was always a matter in which one had to be careful not to be too sensual. In my experience, Pentecostalism and Charismatics seemed to roll together. The clashes between the movements seem to be put on the back burner as people plunge ahead and roll with the waves when it comes to faith movements. This is fine, but as you know, I’m all about knowing what you believe.
So that was the second wave. The third wave was yet to come:
And here we are: The Neo-charismatic Movement.
In the third wave, we saw the power evangelists gain fame. I’m sure Billy Graham was the trailblazer here. But as time marches on, it’s the big ministries like the Bethel types, the Todd Whites and Heidi Bakers of the world that fly the flag.
Early on, there were a couple of movements that raised eyebrows or attracted a lot of criticism. Two such movements were the so-called Toronto Blessing (marked by so called “holy laughter” and lead by Rodney Howard Browne) and the Pensacola (or Brownesville) Revival. Criticisms that spanned both movements included a lack of sustainability, and potentially capitalising on the naivety of believers who may have been swept up in a hyped atmosphere that may have had little or nothing to do with God at all. There was also a bucket of theological issues raised. (I’m not going to critique these revivals today. You can read up on them here if you want).
As a child, I never experienced the Brownsville/Pensacola revival. That was considered to be “geographically specific” and unless you visited the so-called “power centre” you wouldn’t be touched by it. This, of course, is jarringly opposed to the omnipotence and omnipresence of God which leads me to ask “Which spirit was ruling the roost over there?” I did, however, experience the Toronto Blessing. I sat beside my parents in a crowded auditorium in 1996 and witnessed the immersive worship that was the preliminary to Rodney Howard Browne striding onto the stage and singing “This is that” – his self-penned revival theme-song. To be honest, I was more taken with the lady on the piano who could run a whole band from her seat behind the ivories. She was the one I wanted to emulate. (And kinda did, I guess).
ANYWAY! This movement characterised by laughter and being “drunk in the spirit” did reach my corner of the world – little Gippsland region in the back blocks of Australia. I remember watching the adults roll about on the floor in church meetings barking and laughing and falling on each-other. I had no idea what was going on, but it proved the perfect opportunity to find your friends and cackle your way through church. No one ever noticed if you leaned in to your bestie, made a quiet remark about how ridiculous someone looked, and then laughed raucously. It was “the Holy Spirit at work”. That was our cover.
Years on, I see little or no fruit from that movement (although I’m happy to be proven wrong if anyone has data). Not a soul saved in my area because of it (that I can recall). No lasting sense of renewal that I know of or could observe. No larger churches. No socio-economic change. No patches of the world touched by this movement that showed lasting declines in depression and anxiety statistics that should go with an outpouring of holy peace and joy. Maybe there were miracles, but these can’t be attributed directly to a movement. If the scripture says “Lay hands on the sick and they will recover” and that happened, then it’s because of the Holy Spirit and not because of so-called “Holy Laughter.” I guess 1 Peter 4:7, which cautions us to be sober and watchful, is my big caution here.
What was the Toronto Blessing then, and if it was God, why did He do it? I don’t know. Ask the real historians. But the thing we have to be watchful of now is the theological issues that are raising their heads as the neo-charismatic movement beds itself down and marches forward under the current big brands in Christianity.
The Big Theological Differences in Neo-Charismatics
In the neo-charismatic movement, we have gone from the gifts of the spirit, to emphasis on signs and wonders, and the supernatural. I find this interesting. We seem to be upping the ante from one movement to the next and I have to wonder whether this is at least partially manufactured to fit an audience that demands more from the entertainment it consumes and has less of an attention span to consume it. Tv scenes are shorter and more intense. Movies are more gripping, with more special effects and quickly escalating plot lines. Social media has seemingly affected the attention spans of readers to sound-bytes and status updates.
Why do I mention these seemingly unrelated issues? Because along with these shortened attention spans and the escalating nature of entertainment in the secular world, we see shorter sermons, more intensive immersive worship experiences, electric atmospheres, shows of signs, wonders and miracles and (in my opinion) less emphasis on a well-considered and well informed faith. How do you build a solid, deep and well informed faith in a short sermon that is often more loaded with pop psychology than with scripture? (Look, there are some wonderful churches out there! I’m taking a broad brush to the issue)
My big concern within this third wave is that we can’t and shouldn’t treat Jesus like a drug. If we don’t feel Him, that doesn’t change His reality. It shouldn’t. But if we have been raised into Christianity on a steady diet of signs, wonders, miracles and spiritual gifts, immersive worship experiences and communal expressions of faith, then if our faith suddenly becomes rocked by an estrangement from church or community, and those feelings go away or we pray and don’t get healed – who is God? Where is God? Did He disappear? Am I going to Hell now?
Many a theologian has raised concerns over the errant teachings that have come out during this third wave. A personal concern of mine is that with increasing numbers of independent churches, and a decrease in emphasis on doctrine and qualification (with calling taking its place as if we don’t need both), then it seems we are perfectly poised for an epidemic of toxic, authoritarian or even cultish churches to emerge. These do not serve the body of Christ. These can leave immense damage in their wake when a believer wakes up to what is going on and has to extract themselves and their family from its grasp. (Read more here)
We don’t need bizarre manifestations for Christianity to be relevant. In fact, that could make it a laughing stock. We don’t need to ‘use’ Jesus like a drug to fix our mood or elevate our faith and devotion. Christianity, true followership of Christ, comes from a deep place within us. It is not a political stance. It doesn’t demand Dominionism (as we see in the NAR) or showiness. If we continue to create this hyped-up Christianity, then we are prepping ourselves for a mass exodus from the faith when inevitably, the individuals that make up the massive evangelical following worldwide hit hard times and start to question their faith.
True faith, to me, is deep, sober, grounded in the word, grown in compassion and love, and practiced regardless of church attendance (which of course we are exhorted to do so we don’t lose faith in the hard times anyway). How do you build such a faith if yours is built purely on the experience of neo-charismatic Christianity? For all the hype, for all the miracles, for all the songs and sermons, surely the personal expression of faith offered to God in the quiet, unseen moments is more meaningful. Just my take on it!
So there you have it: third wave/ neo-charismatic movement. I’ll admit, I’m a participant in the third wave. I just do it with my own Bible in hand rather than a firm reliance on my pastors wisdom. To be honest, I much prefer it that way.
See you in a few days for one heck of a series!
(Okay Kit. Stop procrastinating and write it!)
PEACE!
Kit K
The De-Calvinisation of Kit Kennedy
There we were, my ex-husband and I, walking our two babies along a boardwalk during Covid19 lockdown. The dew was still fresh on the plants that carpeted the wetland floor. Our two-year-old was busy conquering her fear of bridges (because look, a boardwalk is one long bridge, isn't it). I watched her a bit proudly and reflected on my unfaced fears, and whether I had any. (Spoiler: We all do.) Then I said the thing that had been bothering me for a long time, but that I hadn't given voice to yet: "Bae, I just don't think I subscribe to the Evangelical trope of Jesus as my bestie anymore. And I can't think of God as an old white man in the sky who is morbidly curious about my every action, reaction and inaction, and who has a huge "choose your own adventure" style book of punishments and prizes depending on what I do or don't do in any given moment."
Patrick responded with a sentence almost as wordy as the two I'd just thrown him. And that is perhaps one reason we work so well as friends even after splitting.
But that wasn't the moment I was observing. I was observing another one, a big one where I recognized the seismic shift in my faith. There was no one around. It's not like anyone could hear, and if my theory was correct (which I won't know until eternity), then the only person who would hear was Patrick. After a lifetime of believing that God watched and judged and reacted to every single thing I did or thought, and even wondering whether the "cloud of witnesses" were still creepin' when you were shaving your legs or whatever in the shower, it was almost a relief to get that thought out of my head.
Superstitiously, I've waited for the other shoe to drop and for cosmic judgment to fall upon me because I don't look at Jesus as if He is my best friend.
It hasn't. And that is perhaps the most telling thing of all.
Let's step back a bit: what is this Evangelical Trope of which I speak?
It has long been a trend in Christian worship music for songs to kinda swing in a direction where the word "Jesus" could be subbed out for the word "Baby," a slick beat dropped behind the catchy riff and BOOM: club-worthy song. There was a meme that made its way around the internet not too long ago in which the dorkiest band you've ever seen sang "Jesus is my friend. I have my friend in Jesus. He taught me how to sing, and how to save my soul, He taught me how to love my God and still play rock and roll" blah blah blah. In fact, I have instant regret over typing those lyrics because the song is that catchy. There goes a perfectly good night's sleep.
That song, released soon after the advent of color television, was a very early iteration of the "Jesus is my best friend/lover/brother/" genre. It might have worked for me as a teenager when I needed to feel a sense of connectedness, lofty destiny, and the illusion of a guaranteed rosy life, but it certainly sat a little wonky in later years when I started to wonder whether this was true worship. I'd started to wonder whether worship should instead carry an attitude of reverence and awe, rather than the sort of poetry cooked up by hipsters to make their target market feel good.
Harsh. I know. Heck, I've written some of this stuff so I've certainly been part of the machine. Admittedly nothing as cool as the pop-star worship-leaders of today.
But can I say it out loud? Can I acknowledge it for what it is? I don't think many of us see Jesus as a literal best friend. And that's okay. Perhaps to call Him that is to bring the divine down to a human plain, or worse still, to raise ourselves to god-status by calling ourselves equal to the third part of the trinity.
Jesus is, in my mind, the divine incarnate. To others, He is a prophet or a philosopher. To others, maybe just an invisible buddy they like to chat to. I don't believe its bad to see Him as any of these things. But I certainly don't believe it is bad to admit that we don't see Him as the latter.
But where did this "Jesus is my friend", buddy-buddy attitude come from?
I'm sure there are better scholars out there, a fact I recount often. But there seem to be only a few instances in scripture and none of them seem to line up with "Jesus is my best buddy."
John 15:14 - 15 "You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you."
James 2:23 "Abraham believed in God, and it was accounted to him as righteousness, and he was called a friend of God."
Jesus was certainly called a friend of sinners, the first-born of many brethren, and he was certainly a friend of the disciples. But none of these instances put him on the same human level as the recipient of his friendship. It's more like having a name in your phone book of someone powerful who you could call on if you needed them. I have a number of MP's on my Facebook friends list. But I don't play pool with them or muse to them about my thoughts on dating post-separation. Having an influential friend is different to having a buddy.
Yes, Peter James and John had a closer relationship with Jesus than anyone else. I'm not denying that. But am I as close as they were? Could I ever be?
If I was ever in a position where I thought I could clearly, accurately, faultlessly and tangibly hear Jesus' voice and "rest my head on Him" as these disciples did, I truly hope one of you would drag me to a psychologist office - stat.
Now, look: the point of this post isn't to change your mind on anything. If you look at Jesus as if He is your best friend - good for you. I guess what I'm writing about here is an honest look at the state of my deconstruction. I'm not scared to call my approach to faith what it is anymore. I've got the podcast which creates a beautiful opportunity for me to explore the more intellectual avenues of deconstruction, theology, faith, and social justice. But who would I be if I didn't say exactly what's on my mind in terms of my own deeply held thoughts?
The truth is, I don't view Jesus as my best friend. Perhaps I never have. Perhaps I did but I'm glossing over history with the kind of paintbrush that makes things all look tidy and consistent in the present. I don't know. But either way, it's okay. I think I've mentioned before that I watched a beautiful series on Netflix called "The Story of God." It was narrated by Morgan Freeman (which was sort of meta, as it sounded like God was narrating his own story. Bravo Netflix). But what I noticed was a rich reverence woven through the exploration of each religion's origins and traditions. The gorgeous sound of the Islamic call to prayer, the deep respect that Native Americans and Indigenous people of other countries had for their spoken traditions, the incredible respect held by the researchers looking into the origins of the Abrahamic religions. The thread woven through was one of reverence, respect, awe, and somehow despite the diversity and difference presented in each faith or tradition, there was a thread of something familiar. It was a story of origin, of connection, of searching for a way of being in the world that was good.
Then Joel Osteen stepped on screen for the first time. He was there as the standard-bearer for American Evangelicalism - a faith that should be the closest relative to mine. His teeth, impeccably capped and whitened, made me grimace, but none so much as the words that came out of his mouth. I felt like I'd just switched channels to a Tony Robbins thing. I hated it. Where were the reverence and awe? It felt cheap and tacky but dressed up in a suit that undoubtedly cost thousands.
Today, in the height of the Black Lives Matter protests, I saw another cringe-worthy moment. Mega-church pastor Louis Giglio sitting with rapper LeCrae of all people, explaining the "Blessing" of slavery and reframing "white privilege" to "white blessing". My stomach sunk. It is a statement Giglio has since offered up a sincere apology and said he sees no blessing in slavery. Thank God. But still, I see something in the institutions of Evangelicalism as something deeply problematic: something more like Tony Robbins than Jesus. Something more like a fast-food franchise than a slowly-grown, deeply held, intentionally-built ethos that asks "how might I model myself off the life of Jesus? How can I make this world better?"
Jesus isn't my best friend. He is the highest-held model and ethical ideal in my mind. He is my God. Yes. But I won't bring Him down to sibling or bestie level.
My best friend and I (or ex-husband, however you want to phrase it), we sit and binge Netflix shows. We talk trash. I run things by him when I want a second opinion, but I know I can ignore his advice if I want. I don't base my ethical and moral decisions on what he would want me to do. My other best-friends - well at this point in Covid lockdown, we drink a fair bit of prosecco or gin and talk about our love lives a lot.
Again. Not doing that with Jesus. Although praying about what decision is right - that I do.
The Bible calls Jesus the firstborn of many brethren. But let's look at sibling relationships: I'm the eldest in my family. Of the five of us, I really only have semi-regular contact with one (if you don't count the odd snapchat or text). She is a free-spirit and a gifted public speaker. She is generous and a hard-worker. She is fabulous with kids and her wardrobe is phenomenal. There are things I admire about her. But I don't build my life around her and she certainly doesn't build hers around me.
What am I saying? Jesus isn't my sibling. He isn't my bestie. That's not a role I would ever reduce him to.
This realization has made me understand, for the first time in my life, that there is a jarring misfit between me and the contemporary church.
But why use "de-Calvinisation" in the title of this blog when you weren't even raised Calvinist, Kit?
A few weeks back I blogged on the five pillars of Calvinism. There at the top of the list is the doctrine of "Total Depravity." It's one that Evangelicalism is still very much steeped in; that since the fall of mankind in Eden, we are all born with a sin nature; totally depraved, enslaved to sin, selfish and self-serving, determined to act against God.
We hear it in altar calls. We hear it in the speeches of Billy Graham, who has been held up as the greatest evangelist of the modern era. Over the last few years I've been sitting with this uncomfortable question though: is it possible to follow Jesus without subscribing to a deep and wounding sense of self-loathing. Of inadequacy. Of "I can do nothing without God." I first started to wrestle with this when I was reading my ex-husbands Gay Conversion Therapy manual. I realized my own sense of inadequacy, fear of doing the wrong thing, feeling of being the wrong thing without the approval of the church - it was all internalized shame gifted to me from that Calvinist belief I had marinated in since childhood. It paled in comparison to the internalized sense of homophobia he carried. But that's another story, and another blog post (How I survived gay conversion therapy).
Side note: I wasn't raised Calvinist. It's just a belief that I see deeply steeped in the "Come to Jesus, all ye sinners" narrative."
Then I heard a podcast. The guest was Richard Rohr, and I can't even remember what else he said apart from this sentiment: why do we start our faith in Genesis 3 with the fall of mankind, when we could start it in Genesis 1 where God repeatedly looked at creation and said "It is good. It is good. It is good."?
So perhaps I'm a Franciscan now? Maybe? I don't know. All I know is reading Genesis one and letting those words wash over me felt healing. Because here is what I know about humanity:
No loving parent looks at their newborn and sees sin and depravity. They see beauty, even in those first weeks when their kid is funny looking - Let's be honest. We are told God is love, but then told that we are depraved and He hates sin (thus he can't stand us). Furthermore, we are told the Bible never contradicts itself. Well, it just did. If God, whom we are supposed to call Abba Father, is love, then he loves us. Or He is a hateful parent who alienates and estranges his children from the get-go until they can earn their way back. I'm a mother of two children. I know which parent I am. And I am infinitely less good than the divine good.
All of us are doing our best. I loved watching Game of Thrones. Because every character had redeeming qualities and also the ability to do awful things. Yet we wouldn't call them awful. (Okay, Joffrey doesn't count. Straight up jerk, that one!). I believe all of us are doing the best we can with what we are given. Can we all do better if given the right resources? Yes. In "Little Fires Everywhere" featuring Reese Witherspoon and Kerry Washington, the latter yelled, "You didn't 'make good choices, you had good choices." And wow, it's true. That's privilege in one sentence.
Not many of us believe we are inherently bad people. Why is it that religion steps in, and before accepting us into its exclusive club, makes us admit that we are terrible and hopeless, and sinful without God? Surely, if God is God, and if Jesus is the human incarnation of the divine, then there should be good enough reason to follow him without self-hatred and shame. I believe there is. I don't believe we need to think of ourselves as the scum of the earth before we reach for a more merciful, honest, compassionate, anti-corruption, anti-exclusion, self-sacrificially loving existence. Do you?
So look. This is an intensely personal post I'm just putting out there because I need to get what's on my mind off my mind before I finish crafting a ghostwritten book on infant and pediatric craniopathies!
Here's what I believe about myself now.
I start my faith in Genesis 1. I am good. I am not perfect, but I do not hate myself for that. Jesus is a divine being I approach with reverence, not familiarity. I do not follow Him because I hate myself. I follow Him because I love humanity. I believe that Christianity that builds itself on instilling a sense of self-loathing or shame in its adherents is inferior because it is not built on the immensity, infinitely expansive, compassionate, merciful, intentionally diverse nature of God and the world He/They created.
So yeah. That's me right now. This is the state of the de-calvinisation of Kit Kennedy as at June 17, 2020. Let's see where we are next year!
Peace
Kit K
P.S. Here is the song I referred to. You're welcome.
[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-NOZU2iPA8[/embed]