An Humbling ExperienceWhat follows was meant to be simply a "Thank you" in the comments, but somehow grew until it needed an entry of its own.
Mitzibel writes:
An excellent, and humbling, blog, Bill. Kudos.
Thanks, Misty. It wasn't meant to be humbling but just to express a frustration: the only group that displays the "zeal of the newly converted" worse than teenaged Christians is newly "de-converted" teenaged atheists. Call it "the zeal of the newly de-converted," I guess.
These kids fall into the same funnytrap I fell into when I was just a baby Jesus Freak. About 6 months after I became a Christian, I read a book (I forget the name of it now...it was one of dozens of the same kind out at the time) on the Dead Sea Scrolls that completely destroyed my faith, and I could have ended up like Aaron.
This was before the scrolls were "leaked" (praise God for scholars who eschew secrecy) and the whole book was exposed as speculation based on preliminary translations of literally a handful of scrolls. The hundreds that eventually came out told a different story.
Today, having studied in reality (not just memorized scripture, but studied culture, languages, and commentary) for longer than Aaron claims to have been a fundamentalist, I can see that the book was simply one fatuous speculation based on pre-conceived but deeply held notions. But at the time, it was a guy with a PhD speaking, so it was like the voice of God (didn't having a PhD mean you knew everything?) Besides, he was a minister, though I didn't know what the Unitarians were at the time.
Short, short version: in my naivete', I said to myself, "Well, there goes Christianity," not realizing that 2000 years of history and real scholarship could not really be overturned just because some guy had a PhD. Luckily (not really luck, though) I spent the next 6 months reading literally every night until the sun came up... sleep till 11a, class till 4p, work till 11p, read till 6a ... everything theological/historical/archaeological I could get my hands on...the Joco Librarians probably got sick of seeing me.
By the end of that period, I could identify every error in the guy's logic, every unwarranted assumption, every argument based on presupposition. Then I took on "The Jesus Scroll," "The Passover Plot," and other works of the same nature, including one of my all-time favourites, "Holy Blood Holy Grail". That latter truly (no lie) remains one of my favourite books, but I was not surprised to find that a decade after it appeared, it turned out that it was completely based on a French prank that the authors did not see at the time.
Through the experience of having my faith shattered through naivete and using that to learn rather than to turn, I eventually reached an understanding of the works of God not likely to be overturned by speculation. I learned to differentiate between evidence and presupposition. In short, I grew up, and the baby Christianity I held was replaced by something far deeper. But one way or the other, it needed to be replaced.
I can't prove, but truly believe, that my experience was not unique. When I first became a Christian, God was so real. I heard Him and I saw Him and I felt him every day. But some months later there was nothing left, and it caused me to wonder if I was simply crazy - of course, it didn't help that many of my closest friends thought I was exactly that. I went through a desert. God was not there. And it was in that time that I faced the temptation Aaron apparently succumbed to.
Jesus described it in a parable that I missed at the time, the parable of the sower. Short version, the sower, Jesus, plants the word of God in hearts and then watches idly for a season to see what grows. It's a soil test - maybe weeds grow and maybe nothing grows and maybe crops grow but maybe they are destroyed - and God was testing my "soil" to see if it was deep enough. I thank Him that it was.
As a guy in my early 20s, I didn't have nearly enough experience, knowledge, or wisdom to truly understand the depth of God's work, but I didn't know it. I knew everything I knew but I thought that was everything there was. I could have ended up like Aaron (hell, I WAS Aaron in my late teens...if God existed, He was irrelevant) because I didn't recognize that my perspective was myopic: I didn't know what I didn't know.
All I know now is what I don't know, but that makes all the difference.
That's why I don't mock Aaron, and I almost laughed when he though I would "attack" him. Such is the farthest thing from my mind. I've read the guys he finds so persuasive, but the difference is that I have read both sides. If I feel anything for him, it's pity.
That period of study (which never really ended, though it has, in all honesty, waxed and waned in fervency over 2 decades) convinced me that belief is a matter of the will, just as Jesus said it would be. As Pascal wrote, "The heart has reasons that reason doesn't understand," or as Simon and Garfunkle put it, "A man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest." We will hear what we desire in our hearts to hear. Whether that's the voice of God or of something else, we will hear it. And we will believe it.
That's why Jesus makes belief not a matter of signs or evidence but a matter of choice. We will choose to believe Him (in which case we will receive all the evidence we need, as 'doubting' Thomas did) or we can choose not to (in which case we will receive evidence that will confirm us in that as well).
I'll not attack Aaron; such would do neither of us any good. He's entered a period where he'll discover either his own naivete (the unparalleled gift of youth) or everything he needs to convince himself that many of the the finest minds of the past two millennia were wrong about the single question that matters most: What shall I then do with this man Jesus which is called Christ?
Aaron has decided to walk away. The soil test failed; nothing grows there. I can't attack him for that, I can only grieve, silently, and hope that a divine gardener can bring him some mulch before he lives out his entire life as a man who disbelieves in God but burns in anger at Him anyway.
Sorry, didn't mean to turn this into a sermon...sometimes I just get carried away like that.
We'll be at T-mum's for New Year's. Will we see you and Trey there?
Copyright 2005 EL Borak, inc. Makers of Get a Long Little Doggie brand prods and branding irons for dachsunds. Oblong ‘em up and move ‘em out.