Struggling with Evangelicalism Part 3: More Questions than Answers

Last week, I discussed three out of four parts of Dan Stringer’s Struggling with Evangelicalism: awareness, appreciation, and repentance.  The last and final part is called Renewal.  I enjoyed this section, and found it immensely helpful; and yet, I had many questions at the end – questions that have no real answers right now.

Renewal

In this section, Stringer discusses his own efforts to change the negative aspects of Evangelicalism, as well as musing on why he stays.  He states, “one of my main motivations for renewing evangelicalism is to reduce harm and toxicity,”^[1] which I think is noble and admirable, and certainly worth fighting for.  Specifically, he “[shares] books and resources that provide theological support for women in ministry.”^[2] That is definitely something I admire, and as a woman I’m so grateful to have an advocate in this way.

He also admits that “systemic change takes time – and takes a lot out of those who challenge existing structures.”^[3] In light of that, he encourages all of us to “start small” – “Join a book club. Encourage a disillusioned friend.  Pray for your church’s leaders.  Use a Bible translation that doesn’t use ‘men’ when it means ‘people,’ or ‘brothers’ when it means ‘brothers and sisters.’”^[4]

He ends the book by sharing what gives him hope for evangelicalism, and invites us to reflect, too.^[5]

And so I will…even though it raises more questions than answers.

My Renewal

There’s a lot to unpack in this one, but I’ll start with how I’m trying to “renew” Evangelicalism – this blog.  It’s small.  I’m not sure many read it.  It really just serves to help me work through my own thoughts.  But I felt inspired to share it, and if it changes only one life, I’m humbled by that.  We talk a lot about changing one life, but we don’t actually believe it’s worth it.  If we did, we wouldn’t be obsessed with social media the way we are as a society. (And maybe that’s another thing to repent of culturally?)

But…as a woman, what else can I possibly do?

The very institution that needs change actively works to silence my voice and the voice of other godly women.  I’ve felt the weight of complementarianism as it is now; it is not a weight of God, but a weight made by man.  I’m still trying to figure out if there’s any part of it that is actually of God’s heart; right now, I just don’t know.  At the very least, it has been severely corrupted by conservative Evangelicals.  At worst, it is an outright oppression of women based on a cultural norms of ancient times and possibly a willful misreading of the text to sustain power.

Which brings me to his next point: can I even stay in Evangelicalism?

Renew – or Leave?

I absolutely cannot stay in Conservative Evangelical churches.  Not long term at least.  Right now, though, I don’t have a lot of options.  As I’ve said before, I’m in the Bible Belt; it’s conservative Evangelicalism or mainline denominations. I’m not opposed to mainline denominations – I believe they are God-following believers.  However, I genuinely believe in a lot of Baptist/Evangelical theology (such as believer’s baptism).

So, which convictions do I compromise?

But (and here you’re getting a classic case of the vicious cycle of intrusive thoughts), what if we leave conservative Evangelicalism and the foundation of faith isn’t strong, and our children fall away?  What if Conservative Evangelicals are right, and I condemn myself and my children to heresy?

Maybe that sounds dramatic to you, but it’s deeply troubling to me.  Scrupulosity OCD is hardwired into my mind after a lifetime of nature and nurture.

But…what if I stay?  Will my daughter be disrespected and debased, victimized even?  She’s full of spunk now, but will that be “tamed,” her voice stolen as she is taught what a woman “should” be?  Will my son have a skewed notion of what his role is, and what a woman’s role should be in the family?  He’s full of sweetness now, but will that be stolen and hardened as he’s taught what a man “should” be?

Will they even stay true to Jesus, or will they see the rules and run?  Because all I want is for them to know the surpassing, radical love of Jesus.  Where will they see that most?

I don’t have an answer for that.

At Least One Question Answered

Sometimes, we receive an answer to a question we didn’t realize our heart was asking.  This book included one of those moments for me.

At the beginning of the Renewal section, Dan Stringer has a story about “Lance” – “a composite character of real people”^[6] who goes through deconstruction.  After finding out about abuses (among other things) in the church he grew up in, Lance tries to find a home in other evangelical churches.  However, “even small annoyances with those churches triggered negative reactions in Lance stemming from unprocessed grief.”^[7] 

That one line is oddly comforting to me.  I’ve found myself picking apart sermons and having virulent reactions to off-hand comments from pastors.  I feel critical and bitter many Sundays.  It’s excruciating to go to a church where there are constant and subtle reminders of the patriarchal system that has harmed me so deeply.  It is a reminder that I’m “less than” in so many, many eyes.

Is it sin in my heart?  Probably; sin leavens all the things we do.  But it also feels like a genuine complaint.  So which was it?

Like so many things in our life, it’s both.  I’m sure sin is involved to some degree; but the fact that my dissatisfaction with church stems from unprocessed grief is incredibly comforting.  It makes sense that small things would have a deep, triggering effect as my fight-or-flight response takes over.

That’s what happens when there’s spiritual abuse, after all.

Now that I recognize the grief, I hope to process it in a healthier way and give any sinful bitterness to God.  I also wonder if that’s the reason many ex-Evangelicals leave – they don’t have a safe space to grieve, and the pain runs too deep to be resurrected each and every Sunday.

Where Do I Go From Here?

I’ve talked about this throughout, but I figured I should do a wrap up.  It seems conservative Evangelicalism is not the place for me right now – and yet there aren’t a lot of options, either.  I’m grateful for books like this that help me dissect what I believe and give me additional resources.  However, I’m extremely worried about what indoctrination will occur with my children.

That thought is the chief trigger for my OCD bouts.  When they strike, there is no logic that can sway the intrusive thought that I could be damning my children by taking them away from conservative Evangelicalism – or, alternatively, by staying.

When OCD is not running my mind, however, I’m able to remember the truth:

Doctrine doesn’t ensure my children’s salvation.  Jesus does.  Also, stoking a love for Him in their hearts isn’t the church’s job – it’s mine and Andrew’s.  A church community is only there to facilitate – not to indoctrinate.

So the question becomes: what church can best facilitate me in pointing my children to Jesus right now?

That is a far easier question to answer, and yet, I’m still not sure.  We’re church hunting right now, trying to find a church that meets our desire for diversity, sound biblical teaching, a moderate view on women in leadership, and easy community.

A tall order, I know.

But that’s ok.  Sometimes in-between places are where God works the best.

Notes

[1] Dan Stringer, Struggling with Evangelicalism: Why I Want to Leave and What It Takes to Stay (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2021), 114.

[2] Stringer, 127.

[3] Ibid., 128.

[4] Stringer, 112.

[5] Ibid., 131-132.

[6] First footnote of Chapter 8, Stringer, 145.

[7] Stringer, 111.