A Godless Fundamentalist: Chapter One
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I’ve had the interesting experience of coming to fundamentalism as an adult, treasuring the good parts and quietly rejecting a lot of the culture, but over the past decade, as I’ve dealt with the process of leaving a “wannabe KJVO and Trail of Blood” church, I’ve become painfully aware of what John refers to, and what Ron Bean referred to with his reference to “The Village”, and what Dr. Bauder drew a picture of fundamentalism as a castle with a lot of rooms filled with dead mens’ bodies in some of his “In the Nick of Time” columns. We do, at times, have a fortress mentality, and we wish to protect ourselves from the world rather than engaging it.
A former pastor of mine noted it well when he pointed out that the very gates of Hell will not stand against the Church. Gates are, of course, defensive installations, and that means that the Church needs to be on the offensive, engaging the world while being in it but not of it.
Aspiring to be a stick in the mud.
“Engaging the world while being in it but not of it” is tricky, right? It’s easy too swing to far to either side. Much wisdom from God is needed.
Tipping my hand, so to speak, one of the themes that I’m pushing towards, and something that I pray comes out, is that we (my generation specifically) have done a poor job of acknowledging how secularism, especially as mediated through pop culture, has effected our worldview. Sadly, I’m afraid that many of us have convinced ourselves that we’re “in it” when, really, we’re “of it” in harmful ways. And that probably makes us (Gen X) even more ill-prepared to deal with pop culture’s incessant siren call to our children than our parents were. At least our parents stood firmly apart from it.
Going to say something that will probably be a bit controversial, but I’ve been toying with it in my own mind lately: While acknowledging our kids will have unique and difficult challenges, in some ways, I think it’s going to be easier for our kids than for us.
What I mean to say is, for many of our generation (class of 2000 here), we were caught between that MTV world and the fundy world, as you have said. It was a frightening and a weird place to be. Many of us who, like myself, saw the folly of the former but felt some of the inconsistency and fear within the latter, felt isolated and alone, if we had no one like-minded about us. It was, however, a choice between the broader world of pop culture and the besieged-minority mindset.
But for our kids’ generation, the fragmentation of society and the proliferation of social media should help them to see through that particular illusion. If football isn’t your thing, nerd it up with your online RPG community. And guess what? You won’t have to be exposed to the constant wash of pop culture values there, like you would from the ads in the football game. Many kids these days rarely hang out at the mall and therefore don’t have to see those horrifically oversexed ads in front of them (like I saw the other day when I made my first foray into an American mall in years). I know there are oversexualized ads on the internet too, obviously, and porn, but you can choose to look or no. And most kids have ad blockers to boot.
I don’t know what this all means, of if it means much at all, but it strikes me that, once more, our children will be growing up in a very different world than we—but in some ways, that could be better. There are life-choices everywhere, and all over the map… for better or for ill.
Referencing porn and over-sexualized ads, you wrote, “but you can choose to look or no.” Is it fair to assume, based on the context of your comment, that you’re applying that pull-quote to “our children?” And, if so, what role do you place on the deceitfulness and wickedness of the heart (especially hearts of stone) in relation to your claim that while, “our children will be growing up in a very different world than we—but in some ways, that could be better”?
I ask, because the next two chapters that I’m currently working on deals with how, in the main, heathens were treated as regenerate in the fundamentalism of my youth. Much of the teaching, rules, and interaction with us were all predicated on us being Christians. The problem is, most of weren’t. (In fact, conversations about those two previous sentences with some old classmates is what prompted me to finally write my story.)
In terms of it possibly being better for our children, you may be right. However, I’m not sure that I agree with you in light of the examples you used. For, well, example, I wrote some of my thoughts about how I’m thankful that I didn’t grow up with the internet, and that I agonize (evidencing lack of faith, I realize) about raising my son in today’s world that is saturated with explicit sexuality. I wrote those thoughts here: https://adayinhiscourt.com/2017/08/07/fathers-sons-and-pornography/
[John E.]Yes, I am applying that to our children. And yes, as a convinced Calvinist, I very much appreciate the capacity of the heart for wickedness and deception, and understand that many young people with whom I grew up were not regenerate. Or at least gave little evidence of such. I do wonder sometimes, however, how much of that and the “rebellious teenager” phenomena was simply the consequences of children being exposed to bad parenting and hypocrisy. I tread carefully here, because I only have my own experiences. But like you, I only have my own experiences.Referencing porn and over-sexualized ads, you wrote, “but you can choose to look or no.” Is it fair to assume, based on the context of your comment, that you’re applying that pull-quote to “our children?” And, if so, what role do you place on the deceitfulness and wickedness of the heart (especially hearts of stone) in relation to your claim that while, “our children will be growing up in a very different world than we—but in some ways, that could be better”?
I ask, because the next two chapters that I’m currently working on deals with how, in the main, heathens were treated as regenerate in the fundamentalism of my youth. Much of the teaching, rules, and interaction with us were all predicated on us being Christians. The problem is, most of weren’t. (In fact, conversations about those two previous sentences with some old classmates is what prompted me to finally write my story.)
In terms of it possibly being better for our children, you may be right. However, I’m not sure that I agree with you in light of the examples you used. For, well, example, I wrote some of my thoughts about how I’m thankful that I didn’t grow up with the internet, and that I agonize (evidencing lack of faith, I realize) about raising my son in today’s world that is saturated with explicit sexuality. I wrote those thoughts here: https://adayinhiscourt.com/2017/08/07/fathers-sons-and-pornography/
I also know, however, there are many children and young people, regenerate or no, who don’t really want to look at pornography or be exposed to those things. A good number were first exposed by a friend or a relative and socialized into it. I would argue that the majority of kids realize that stuff isn’t good for them, and a good number want to be free. I’m not even speaking at this point in categories of regeneration vs unregeneration; I’m speaking of self-preservation. We need to keep in mind that the ease of access to porn means our kids will process it differently than we did. The allure of the difficulty of access, for one, will be gone. Perhaps greater knowledge of how the wicked porn industry actually operates will be a helpful tool to strip off some of the gloss and glamour.
Again, I don’t know how this will all play out in the next generation; but my intuitions tell me that we should be wary of being so focused on the negative aspects of social change (of which there are many and they are evident) that we miss some ways in which it might be better. I fully agree that the dangers and pressures today are intense, but I also feel that some of the pressures—of being an unwilling participant in a broader, MTV culture, namely—will be relieved.
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