Too Many Tulips

 

Growing up, I was introduced to Calvinism. A theological belief system within Christianity, Calvinism was founded by John Calvin, a Protestant Reformer. Calvin's teachings can be summed up in the following acronym

Total depravity

Unconditional election

Limited atonement

Irresistible Grace

Perseverance of the Saints

...or, TULIP. 

Now, one doesn't often think of Calvinism as being much of a part of Evangelicalism. However, it certainly is part of Christian culture, and had a negative impact on me and my young life. At the age of 12, I was introduced to Calvinism via sermons like "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God" and books by R.C. Sproul. It focuses mainly on God's own choice and a lack of free will. 

It would take me several blog posts to go over each point of TULIP, so I will simply explain: according to Calvinism, God made a choice: he chose what came to be known as "the elect." From the foundation of the world, God chose who would respond to salvation, while passing over others. Those who are "elect" will turn to God, not of their own doing, but because God chose them. Those who were not chosen are reprobate and "vessels fitted for destruction" and have no hope of heaven, no matter how they may try.

As if this were not bad enough, not only are the reprobate predestined to hell, but at the end of the world, when all the elect are in heaven, they will look down on those in hell in pleasure, rejoicing over seeing such power and majesty. This is called the abominable fancy, and is attested by many Protestant, even Catholic theologians, such as St. Thomas Aquinas, and other early Christians, such as Tertullian.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that such odious theology breeds abuse and power struggles. The theology of an abusive God will no doubt lead to an abusive man. For what kind of a God would purposefully make a person evil, then condemn them for being what they were created to be?

In my view, of all the theological belief systems within Christianity, Calvinism is the most dangerous. It teaches its followers an "us vs. them" theology and glories in the idea of an almost snuff film paradise where the "blessed" look up the tortured souls of hell, and rather than pity them, for being reprobate and damned eternally by God...they rejoice and enjoy the view.

So, for the sake of healing, I created my own acronym, the anti-TULIP if you will: APHRODITE. Named after the Greek goddess of love, it's all about self-love and acceptance of who we are; not depraved monsters, but wonderful miracles of the universe itself.

A: Accept yourself for who you are

P: Progress, not perfection

H: Healing is a process

R: Remember you are stardust

O: Often, practice self-love

D: Do your best to show kindness to yourself and others

I: Ignite the fire of passion and compassion within your heart

T: Take yourself to new heights

E: Engage in unapologetic joy 

Maybe not perfect: but, perhaps APHRODITE is our way of healing ourselves, the people around us, and the world. 

Cry Nights

"Cry night" is a phrase that is thrown around a lot in the deconstruction community. Those of us growing up in the evangelical bubble know exactly what cry night was. But for those of you who may not, let me explain.

Cry night is the name of the last or next to last day of a church camp, convention, or conference. But you can have cry nights at your average church service as well. It happens very frequently during youth group nights and retreats. Basically, it's a night in which several things happen; worship music is played, a fiery sermon is given, and, well...you cry. It's not uncommon to see people rushing to the altar, crying and speaking in tongues, shaking, and being under the influence of the Holy Spirit.

Except...that's not what's actually happening. 

See, there's psychological stuff going on that many of us were not even aware of. There was a great deal of conditioning and even grooming that went into these nights. With screeches from the pastor telling us how worthless we are and how we deserved hell. The worship team belting songs out about how much we hurt God's heart (as if we are responsible for God's feelings) and that we should feel guilty for being human. The lights are low. The air is cooler than usual. We're sure that God is touching our hearts. 

But he's not.  I know, that's a hard pill to swallow. But we were duped. We were manipulated into feeling a specific way. Everything is calculated. Maybe not on purpose; after all, I don't actually think there is someone behind the scenes rubbing their hands together and laughing maniacally (at least, not all of the time). But think about it; when you were in youth group, as an example, what were your cry nights like? What was a common factor in all of those come to Jesus nights? 

Manipulation. We were manipulated by words that were meant to break us down. We were cut to the heart by worship music that promised we could be saved, even though we were just kids, and there was nothing wrong with us. 

Coming back years later to those nights is always hard, because even though I am unlearning so much, I have found that I have such a long way to go. After all, we were taught that we are inherently evil, So why would we not cry? 

A lot of planning and conditioning went into those nights. The most recent one I remember was actually in college during Cru. We had a fun night, and suddenly the atmosphere changed as the preacher spoke on the wrath of God and eternal hell. As you can imagine, this made many people come forward, crying, sobbing, and reaching for heaven. Scared to death. Fear being the leader, not love. Even then, it filled me with rage. Here were impressionable 20-somethings being told that they were miserable sinners. That they deserved God's wrath in hell. 

How is this okay?

Honestly, looking back, it wasn't our fault. We put our faith in people who we thought spoke for God. It gave us a sense of family. Of belonging. Which isn't wrong; humans are social creatures. We want to belong. 

But the question is, what exactly are we belonging to? Can we tell when we've been duped? Can we fight back when an institution any institution, tries to tear us down?

That's what the deconstruction movement is all about. It's about unlearning and relearning.

My hope is that you will unlearn these negative things; you are not depraved. You are not deserving of hell. You are not a speck of dust, nothing before God. You matter. You are stardust, a treasure, a miracle.

This is what we should be teaching our kids. Not that they are useless; but that they have the power to shape their destiny into anything they wish. This is the truth we should cling to. This is reality. 

They Just Don't Get It

 

While browsing Tiktok, I came across a video by a young man who claimed that the whole “deconstruction” movement and the “cancellation” of preachers was a “sign.” He elaborated and said that God was moving in a “mighty way” and “pruning the church to create a righteous bride.”

All I could do was shake my head. They just don't get it. They don't want to get it. If they did, they wouldn't be looking the other way. They would acknowledge that there is hurt and trouble within the Christian church. They would acknowledge trauma, they would acknowledge abuse. They wouldn't try to explain away the mass genocide that was done in the name of God.

God is pruning the branches of his church? As if those of us that are deconstructing are not worthy of him? As if we are the problem? It's almost enough to make you want to scream.

Don't wave us off as “heretics.” Don’t turn a blind eye or a deaf ear to us. There are people in your own community who have been hurt by the church. So many say “that's not God, you weren't hurt by God you were hurt by the church.” But here's the thing. The church is the body of Christ right? The pastor is the shepherd right? If that's the case, and a pastor or the people of that church hurt me, why would I not recognize that as God? At least at first? When I see abuse happen, when I see people talk about their trauma, the toxicity of some Churches, the only conclusion that some people can come to is that God is okay with it. The church turns a blind eye to abuse, and yet somehow we are the bad ones?

There is no way that I can say it nicely. There is a reason people are leaving the church and it's not because we hate Jesus. The problem was never Jesus. The problem was never the man who said to turn the other cheek, who said that if you love your friend you should also love your enemy. Who said that if you abused a child, you should tie a millstone around your neck and drown.

Church, the problem is you. It has been you for a long, long time. Yet many of you want to look the other way and pretend the problem does not exist. As if the ones that are deconstructing are the ones who are wrong. We are wayward sheep that have gone astray. No. Many of us are still Christians. Although some of us may not be. 

Instead of demonizing us, listen to us. Instead of arguing with us, reason with us. Instead of damning us to hell, invite us to the table. Don't call us liars, don't call us scoffers. We are not any of those things. We are hurt, some of us are traumatized, some of us have been cut off from our own families. All in the name of your God and in the name of your church.

It is my hope that one day, the church will recognize the wrongdoing that it has been apart of. My hope Is that Christians will listen to us when we talk about the issues we have with the church. Because at the end of the day, we are all just human beings on the same planet, with the same needs, hurt, once, and misunderstandings. If we can see ourselves as humans first, the healing will truly begin. 

Who is God to Me Now?

 I've gotten this question a couple of times from people, asking me who I see God as now. As I go through my deconstruction, I went through a lot of time searching for meaning. Whether it was in Neo-Paganism, Hinduism, Buddhism or even Pantheism, I wanted to have something real in my life that I could hold onto. Where the church had failed me, I thought I could find meaning elsewhere. 

I learned a lot, being away from Christianity. I learned about myself, my own ways of looking at God, and it changed me. It changed my outlook on life, on the Divine, and my philosophy of the world. Suddenly, I was opening doors to new ways of thinking, new ways of looking at the world. There were other choices out there, not just the one I had grown up with.

So, how do I see God now? 

Well, about that. I suppose my way of seeing God falls into, not a pantheistic way of looking at the world, but a panentheistic way of looking at the world, where Deity is both immanent and transcendent.

 In Wicca (my version, anyway), the Horned God represents the changing of the seasons. He "dies" in the fall and is "reborn" at the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, when things go from waning away to waxing. This is God in his "known" form. In Hinduism, it's known as Saguna Brahman; God with form. He is immanence. The Goddess is the one at the center of it all. She is Creatrix and Destroyer, and she is seen as the consort to the Horned God. She is God without form, or Nirguna Brahman, as they say in Hinduism. She is transcendence. Together, they are God, or the All. 

My view of God is very nature-based. I think this comes from my love of nature and animals, my interest in herbs and growing things; I've always seen Deity being within things, such as the earth, the waters, the stars. God is close to us, not far away. God is here. Right with us. You could even say that God is so close to us, that God is us. We come from God, and can be seen as an extension of God. We come from God, the All, and we return to God. There is no separation. The Shaivites, a sect of Hinduism, say that the only thing God cannot do is remove himself from us. And I believe that wholeheartedly; God is unable to separate from us, because he is us. It's something that I find to be so, so beautiful. I was taught from a young age that God was separated from us by sin. That we cannot known him without Jesus, and even then, some sects of Christianity teach that, even with Jesus, the Father is still unknowble. But now? not only can I know God, I can know that I am God. That's an indescribable feeling, especially on bad days when I am feeling the pangs of a depressive episode.

So now that I have shared my outlook on life with you, I'm curious...where do you fall? Do you still believe in God or Gods? Are you an atheist? If you are comfortable with sharing, please let me know in the comment section below!

Veganism and the Evangelical Movement

 Over the past week, I made the decision to become a vegan and switch to a vegan diet. I did this for spiritual purposes, as well as health and ethical purposes. It's something I have toyed with since the age of 16, but finally decided to take more seriously now. Being plant-based has made my life much healthier and happier. It may have also saved lives. Who knows? I'm happy with it. But I can already think of a few people who aren't.

Well, okay. I can't pigeonhole them all. Many Christians and Christian denominations, such as the Seventh Day Adventists, are vegan. However, growing up evangelical and fundamentalist, I remember meat and animal products such as eggs and dairy being a significant part of the church culture. Whether it was potlucks or going over to a neighbor's house after church to eat lunch, it was everywhere. We never really gave much thought to the animals that were killed to provide the meal, or exploited to provide the eggs and dairy; it was food, it tasted good, that settled it. 

I think a lot of it has to do with the way in which animals are viewed. Most Christians, especially evangelical Christians, believe animals have no souls, are different from us, and were put here to be used for the purposes of man. They no longer are part of our world, but are meant to be tools to use in this world. We had dominion over them, so we could do what we please, right? Even as a child, that never set right with me. I was an animal lover growing up. My friends will tell you I am an avid cat lover, but my love extends to all animals. I see them as creatures capable of emotions such as love, kindness, as well as anger, even hate. They make the world a beautiful place, and I always appreciated that. But I was still taught about how they were without souls, would not be in heaven when I die and were just there to benefit us. God made them for us to use, that was it. 

It was only after I left the evangelical bubble that I realized what I had been taught about the world was wrong. Suddenly, my mind opened up to new possibilities. Animals no longer were tools; they were my siblings. Earth was no longer something to hold dominion over; she was my Mother. I began reading as much as I could about animal rights and veganism, which included watching some very uncomfortable, graphic videos displaying animal cruelty in factory farms. My mind was made up; no more fooling around. I wanted to live a cruelty-free life, with my new beliefs on animals and the world. So I became vegan. 

Veganism and vegetarianism is usually looked on with disdain and mistrust by evangelicals, who believe we own the animals and hold dominion over them. Often it is seen as idolizing animals, seeing them as equal or above us. To an evangelical, that is a big no-no; even though, according to the Bible, before the fall, Adam and Eve were most likely vegans and ate a vegan diet; it was only after the flood that meat eating became the norm.

So here's a challenge to my exvangelical brothers and sisters; try to go vegan or at least vegetarian. Try to take a challenge to make one day plant-based. See what a difference it makes in your life, as well as in the lives of animals. I recommend also watching documentaries such as Forks over Knives or Cowspiracy. We have the power, as exvangelicals, to really make a difference in the world. Why not start with a cruelty free diet? Let's show that we care about the rights of animals to live and grow in this world, just like us. They weren't made for us; they were made to walk beside us. And, I think that is truly an incredible thing. 

Fundamentalism and Patriotism

 I love America, Oh I love this land

I love America, with justice may she stand

Grounded on the word of God, a nation of the free

I love America, the land of our liberty.

Every Wednesday at school, during chapel time, we would sing this song or some other patriotic song. From a very young age, as early as first grade, I was taught that America was the greatest country in the world and that God had blessed this nation. Flags could be found in the corners of our church, of many of the churches I attended growing up. Hymnals would include patriotic songs to be sung during church services. I remember even being taught that every president was in heaven, and every president we ever had who was alive (except for Bill Clinton, of course) would be going to heaven. And of course, we pledged allegiance to the flag every morning, along with the Christian flag and Bible. Even today, you will see flags with crosses on them. The newest slogan is "stand for the flag, kneel for the cross" as though the two were similar and both deserved the same amount of reverence. 

I didn't know it then, but I had been indoctrinated. And of course, at the age of 6, I didn't question it. I didn't know I was supposed to. I didn't realize that this would take me, and many others, down a slippery slope to American nationalism. What I mean by this is, we were given a very white-washed view of what American history actually was. The founding fathers were said to have been God fearing men. The country was founded on God and Christian principles. Totally absent from this was that, in actuality, the founding fathers were mostly Masons and Deists. We were told that George Washington had dentures made of wood or rhinoceros ivory, when in reality they were made from the teeth of his own slaves. We were taught about the Native Americans, and how they were ruthless savages when it was in fact us, who were ruthless and violent towards them. Never once were we told that Thomas Jefferson once likened separating native children from their families, as one would separate a wolf from her pups. Any history that painted America in a negative light was missing from our textbooks.

The more I read about our actual history, the less I believed that we were this bastion of hope and beauty that was so often touted to us growing up. But what could I do? If I spoke out against it, I would be branded anti-American or anti-Christian. At that time, I was scared to take the chance. But after seeing what American exceptionalism has done to this country as a whole, especially after the disastrous presidency of Donald Trump, I could not keep silent any longer. I began posting more political things on my Facebook, and still do to this day. I did this because I believed that it was important for people to open up their eyes to the reality. And that reality is: we are not a blessed nation. We were not founded on Christian principles. We are guilty of war crimes, crimes against humanity, genocide, slavery, murder, and crony capitalism. Speaking out against this does not mean I hate my country; rather, it means that I love it too much to allow it to continue down the road it is going, and I will not be complacent in its wrongdoing. And I certainly won't tout the idea that it is somehow a great country that can do no wrong, when in reality, history shows us otherwise. 

Hearing other people speak up against the injustices this country perpetuates and the idea of us being a chosen people should not deter us, and it certainly shouldn't make us say things like, "if you don't like it you can leave." It should make you stand up and say, "you know what, you're right. We have royally messed up in so many ways in the past. Let's take steps to ensure that it doesn't happen again."

"Sexy" Deconstruction? Matt, You Miss The Point

 Matt Chandler, a pastor from Flower Mound, Texas, and the pastor of City on a Hill Village Church recently gave a sermon where he mentioned the deconstruction movement. As I expected, he derided us, saying that it was  "sexy" to be an exvangelical, to walk away from the faith:

“You and I are in an age where deconstruction and the turning away from and leaving the faith has become some sort of sexy thing to do. I contend that if you ever experience the grace and mercy of Jesus Christ actually, that that’s really impossible to deconstruct from.”

I remember watching this for the first time. I wasn't surprised. For a while now, evangelicals have called us apostates and told their congregations that this was the great falling away attested in the Bible. What I was, was frustrated. Once again, another evangelical Christian totally misses the point. It's not about Jesus. It's about them.

Matt, it is doubtful you will ever read my blog or hear of it, but I will address you anyway. There is something you need to realize. Exvangelical and deconstruction do not equal leaving the faith. There are many people, who are still Christians, that are deconstructing their faith but have no intention of leaving. They aren't leaving God. They're leaving you. They're leaving their pro-Trump churches that believe LGBT individuals are abominations. They're leaving years of abuse at the hands of clergy, suffering in silence because so many churches protect abusers. It isn't "sexy": it's our lives. It's losing friends because you dared speak out against what your church was doing. It's having family disown you. It's turning your entire life upside down because you could no longer stay silent. It's not leaving the faith. It's leaving an church that was never there for them to begin with.

That is what is hard to deconstruct from. Anyone who knows and follows the words of Jesus will find that it is hard to stay in an institution that does not follow his teachings. 

I hope one day that you can understand, that this is a movement of people who want to change things. Not give up. Not walk away. Yes, it's true that some of us have left the faith altogether; but the word deconstruction is not synonymous with apostasy. Rather, it is the name of a movement that wants to create change in the world, in their hometowns, and in their churches. Let people question things. Let them challenge ideas. Let them speak out against injustice. If you want your flock to stay, it's up to you to also create a healthy, safe environment that is free from abuse. Otherwise, why wouldn't we go elsewhere?