QUESTIONS, DOUBTS AND CRITICAL THINKING - PART 2

These questions and doubts bounced around my mind for a long, long time … decades upon decades.  Was I the only one having these questions and doubts?  I didn’t hear anyone else inquiring about this or raising these subjects in class.  Was I a freak?  Had Satan (is he / it real?) gotten a hold of me and was deceitfully and with sinister delight filling me with evil and sinful thoughts, even worse thoughts than when I admired that infamously saucy Farah Fawcett poster?  

But who could I talk to?  Who could I ask?  To my recollection, all of my religion classes were led by Catholic priests or nuns.  I certainly couldn’t ask them lest I be considered an evil-minded, misguided, devil-indwelt heathen.  Plus, those nuns were known for taking sadistic glee in smacking misbehavers with a sturdy ruler or yardstick.  Spanking was still allowed in school, and I certainly didn’t want my bum bruised.  Oh, the shame!  What would my classmates think?  Pretty much the same as the priests and nuns, as they all seemed to mindlessly accept and agree with what was being taught.  I certainly couldn’t talk to our pastor, for the same reasons I couldn’t talk to my teachers.  I also didn’t want any shame to be passed along to my parents.  “Mrs. Schloesser, do you know what your son Greg asked about?”  Again, the shame.  The fear of disappointing others and being considered strange, weird or worse was a stupefying concern. 

So, I kept quiet.  For a long time.  I grew a bit braver while in college, but not much, certainly not brave enough to get into a deep discussion about these matters with anyone.  All my best friends were Catholic and seemed to be devoted to the faith.  I just didn’t want to risk it.  

I married in 1984, and my lovely wife Gail is from a devout Catholic family, who much like my mom, never missed Mass.  Her dad even sang in the church choir!  So, I wasn’t going to discuss any of my questions or doubts with them.  Indeed, it took awhile before I had the courage to broach some of these subjects with Gail.  We would talk about these at a surface level, rarely diving very deep.  Like me, she feared disappointing her parents and felt it was easier simply to continue the charade that we were both model Catholic adults.  

As life marched on, we both became increasingly restless with the dogma and tenets of the Catholic faith.  I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and disenchanted with many of the church’s teachings and traditions, and reached a point where I no longer believed in some of what was being professed as truth.  I was ready to investigate other branches of the faith, although with a healthy dose of fear and apprehension.  However, Gail and I agreed to not do anything radical until my daughter finished receiving the traditional Catholic school instructions and sacraments.  After that, we agreed that we could each make our own decisions and perhaps chart a different path. 

When that time came, we decided to investigate other churches, but in a quasi-clandestine manner.  We eventually found a Baptist church near our home.  It wasn’t an easy choice, as I had some indwelling assumptions – much of which proved false – about what Baptists believed, practiced and allowed, or didn’t allow.  Still, we found the preaching to be informative and refreshing, and we really enjoyed the welcoming people.  The services seemed more alive and interesting, and we were pleased to see that adult Bible study classes were being offered.  I felt this would be a way that I could get to know the Bible better without it being cast through the lens of Catholic ideology.  

And it worked.  I dove into the Bible like never before.  I read and studied it carefully – or so I thought – and eventually began leading and teaching classes.  My knowledge of the Bible was growing tremendously, but I still harbored doubts and questions. 

 When we moved to East Tennessee in 2005, one of my priorities was to quickly find a church that we could become a part of and immerse ourselves in.  We found another Baptist church and were heavily involved with it for ten years.  In addition to numerous other ministries that I participated in, I resumed teaching and leading Bible study classes.  I also continued reading and studying other faith books by Christian authors.  We moved to a non-denominational church in 2015 where I continued these activities.  Through it all, however, my questions and doubts not only continued, but grew.  My doubts and questions were beginning to consume me, and I felt confused and distraught. 

It was at that time that I began discovering alternative Christian writings, articles and podcasts.  While I don’t recall the first source I somehow located, early on I found the podcast “Almost Heretical” and began listening to it during my daily 2+ miles of sweating on the elliptical.  That podcast led me to several books and authors, including the late Rachel Held Evans, a seminary graduate and author who seemed to have similar questions, doubts and angst that I was experiencing.  What a revelation!  I wasn’t alone; there were others who were harboring these questions and doubts.  So I kept reading and devouring anything I could find on Progressive Christianity and overcoming the fear and doubt that often keeps us bound to our childhood faith.  I began to learn and accept that questions and doubts weren’t bad, evil or satanically induced.  Rather, questioning and doubting were essential parts of spiritual growth, just like they are with any type of growth.  In her book Faith Unraveled, Rachel Evans writes, “Doubt is the mechanism by which faith evolves. It helps us cast off false fundamentals so that we can recover what has been lost or embrace what is new. It is a refining fire, a hot flame that keeps our faith alive and moving and bubbling about, where certainty would only freeze it on the spot.”  Oh, my gosh … she is so spot-on! 

What I began to realize that I was in the process of a spiritual and religious “deconstruction”.  David Hayward was a Christian pastor for over 30 years.  He defines deconstruction in this manner: “Deconstruction, in the context of your faith, is the process of questioning, examining, and sometimes dismantling the beliefs you once held. It’s about taking an honest look at the ideologies, doctrines, and practices you grew up with and then consciously breaking them down to see what still makes sense for who you are today and who you want to become.”  This seemed to be exactly what I was struggling to do.   

The process, however, is fraught with angst, uncertainty, doubt and, yes, even fear.  Not only did I struggle (and still do) with amending or discarding long-held beliefs, some of which formed the foundation of my spiritual belief system and life, but also with the worry of what would this do to my relationships with my family and friends.  Would longtime friends abandon me just because I was beginning to think and believe differently from them?  Would I still be accepted in my church?  Would I become a pariah, an outcast?  Hayward echoes this struggle in his article “The 5 Stages of Deconstruction”: “Most people suppress their changing beliefs or avoid voicing them because they are scared of judgment or of losing faith-linked friends, family and community.”  The worry, angst and fear are real.  Very real.  The choice was to continue the charade, acting and behaving as if all was fine, or follow where my investigations, studies and critical thinking were leading me.  Damn the torpedoes, I have chosen the latter. 

Since I discovered Progressive Christianity and the hundreds of books from dozens of authors whose questions, doubts and spiritual journey mirrored my own, I feel like Paul in the Biblical story wherein scales are removed from his eyes and he sees in a new light.  I began to see a world that was just beyond my vision for so long.  It was an epiphany, a “Road to Damascus” moment.  I felt, and continue to feel invigorated, alive, even born again.  I learned that asking the questions is vital to one’s spiritual growth, and that there are no forbidden questions, no forbidden taboos.  Questions and doubts should spur one to search, to investigate, to read, to study, to listen, to learn, to grow.  

Phillip Enns is a Biblical Scholar, professor and author of numerous books, including one of my favorites, The Bible Tells Me So.  In a lecture he delivered at Asuza Pacific University, he states: “Doubt is usually cumulative; it creeps in. God, the Bible, your faith, stop making sense, and so you toss it all away. But here is the point. You say that God and all that Jesus stuff just don’t work in the world you live in. But maybe the God and Jesus that aren’t working aren’t the real thing. What if what isn’t working isn’t God at all, but our version. Maybe doubts are the first step to stripping off the old and getting at the real thing.”  He continues, “Deep doubt about God is about the worst feeling a Christian can have. It is dark, unsettling, frightening. And I am saying not only ‘it’s OK, it’s normal.” I am also saying, “Welcome it as a gift of God. Don’t run from it.’ Because once doubt occurs, it won’t just go away—you can try to bury it all you want to. Embrace the doubt. Call it your friend. God is leading you on a journey.” 

It took me a long, long time … FAR too long … to come to the understanding and realization that questions and doubt are a good and necessary step in one’s spiritual growth.  It is such a relief and joy to, like so many others, have finally arrived at that vital step along this journey.  I no longer fear questions and doubt; I embrace them.  I also know that I will never, ever have all of the answers.  No one does...and no one religion does.  I am fine with that.  I will continue to apply careful and extensive study and critical thinking to all aspects of my beliefs and faith.  I will try to better understand and come to conclusions that are grounded in intellectual study, thought and analysis.  It is the mature and adult way to approach life, including our spiritual beliefs and tenets.  And this will be a lifelong process.  I know that for as long as I continue to breathe, I will continue to ask questions, continue to doubt, continue to grow.  It is both exciting and liberating.