Sunday, June 14, 2015

If My Child Were An Evangelical

I decided to call this post, "If My Child Were An Evangelical," rather than, "If My Child Were A Christian." I used to be more anti-theist, but I've met some wonderful pro-LGBTQ, feminist, universalist, and science-friendly Christians in the past year, and I know now that it's possible to be a happy and decent person, and still be a Christian (for some, at least).
I came across an old book recently, called "Letters From A Skeptic," (1994) by Dr. Gregory A. Boyd and his father, Edward K. Boyd. Since perusing it, I can't stop thinking about what I would do, if I were in the (then) skeptical father's position.
The father, Edward, makes a big mistake, that I see a lot of atheists make, in that he decides what he thinks about a theoretical "God" based on what others--his son--tells him about God. Even if his son convinces him that God exists, it still only proves a deist or theist position. It doesn't prove Christianity, and certainly not evangelical Christianity, at all.

I have a "buddy" online who is a Christian universalist. He believes that God will show Himself to everybody eventually, and that since God is love, "No one will be able to resist Him!"
I'm sure that my buddy thinks that I am merely in my pre-Christian (or post-Christian, pre-Christian), stage, but it doesn't really bother me. He lives his life, I live mine, and maybe God will show up for me one day. If he's right, it won't be unpleasant for me, and I'll be okay, either way.
He doesn't have to convince me of anything, or make me do or pray anything. And I don't have to convince him of anything. It's one of the perks of being a universalist and a non-anti-theist (except evangelicalism/fundamentalism).
This man's son, however, does believe in hell. So he feels compelled to convince his father of a slew of evangelical beliefs, not the least of which is that God is actually good for, or in spite of, sending or allowing people to go to hell. A tall order, especially if one is compelled to do it, or know that their loved ones will be tortured for eternity with no hope of rescue.

So in the (non-fiction) book, the son, a bible scholar and apologist, writes his dad a letter and tells him that he wants to correspond about the subject of Christianity. His dad agrees, and opens the floor with the question, "Why has Christianity done so much harm?"
In addition to assuming that "Christianity" means his son's particular brand of evangelical Christianity, that his son knows more about a potential god than he does, and that any transcendent being would have to be all-powerful in this realm, his first mistake was opening the floor, in my opinion. I argue with Christians online all the time (usually, in fact, on behalf of Christians); I don't want to argue with my loved ones. If my child really wanted to debate me, I would have to say, "You first," and let them pick the topic.
But first I would want to sit them down and ask them about their obvious beliefs in hell. What makes them think that I'm in danger, when I've been a Christian, tried sincerely to get close to God, and still sincerely seek the truth? Why wouldn't God know that, and deal with/judge me accordingly?

I had a similar conversation once, when I was about twelve or thirteen, with my paternal grandmother. She told me her beliefs about God, which were more of spiritual than an evangelical nature, and then asked, "So now do you feel better about this?"
I said yes, because I wanted to please her and didn't want to make her mad or hurt her feelings, but I really was bothered by her "wishy-washy" beliefs.
So I would want to make sure that my child could tell me how they really feel. I don't want them to feel that they can't confide in me, or that I would try to make them feel guilty or manipulate them, or that I only accept one answer.
If they really felt I was going to hell, I would try to reassure them that I sincerely wanted to find the truth, if there was a truth to be found, and I might even pray with them, that we would both find the truth, whatever it was. I think if it was for my child, I wouldn't be bothered by prayer. Even if no one else heard it, it would make my kid feel better.

But I would also challenge their notions of hell. Or rather, of how they think people go about avoiding it. Do I have to say that I believe in God and Jesus, when I don't? Do I have to "profess Christ," and thereby lie about what I think is likely to be true?
And then, do I have to go to a church I can't stand, that preaches things I don't agree with morally or intellectually? Read as fully divine a bible that I think was at least influenced by fallible human beings? Pray, when I don't think there is likely anyone there to hear me? Talk about and think about God as if "He" actually existed, when I think it's more likely that God doesn't exist? Convince others of something I don't that even believe myself?
In other words, do I have to pretend to believe everything they believe, and do everything they do because of those beliefs, or burn in hell for eternity? Do I have be their intellectual clones in order to please their version of God?
Am I going to hell if I'm not conservative and don't vote Republican? What if I don't believe in the Rapture? What if I don't believe in hell, or don't believe that sending or allowing someone to go to hell is morally right at all? What if I'm not a young-earth creationist? What if I identify as a feminist--and am pro-choice too? What if I don't submit to my husband? What if I have a wife instead--because since discovering that I was bisexual, that's a very real possibility if I ever get married.
It's a lot more complicated than Jack Chick would have everyone believe. 
I already have family who seems to think that the only "saved" Christians are their intellectual clones. Doing research about religion, for some of them, seems to consist of listening to not one, but TWO(!) evangelical radio preachers! They don't even like to do research about other views within Christianity. I hope to raise my child better than that, if I ever adopt one (because I could never waste my own eggs when so many children need homes, and the earth is overpopulated already), though it's ultimately their responsibility where they end up.
I can't stop thinking about what I would do if I had a child who was truly convinced I was going to hell. I know it's a reality for a lot of people, and I'm not sure how to comfort my potential kid (or little brother who is like a kid to me in a lot of ways), while still being honest. I know that I would have to be honest, both for myself and to set an example for them. Even if it hurts them.
I do know one thing, though: The most important thing that I could teach my evangelical child is that they are loved--if not by God, then most certainly by me. 


What do you think of this? Leave a comment below, or send me an email at: atheistjourneysblog@gmail.com
Follow or tweet me here: https://twitter.com/atheistjourneys
I also have a Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Atheist-Journeys/1543588489197291?

No comments:

Post a Comment