God Is Faithful: Zach's Faith Journey- Part 4

Hi friends! Today we begin the fourth part of Zach’s faith journey. I love how he shares a bump in his journey today. It is easy to assume that someone who grew up in such a restful way with the Lord would always have an unchallenged faith, but that is not so.

Overall, Calvary church was a beautiful place of growth and transformation for me.  However, that did not mean it was always a smooth journey devoid of bumps.  Beginning in middle school, the church was faced with a difficult impasse.  Calvary was part of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America (ELCA).  It was the largest Lutheran denomination in the United States.   On a country wide level, the ELCA was going to shift their church position on matters of LGBTQ regarding marriage and clergy.  This would impact all the churches that were a part of the ELCA, including our own. 

In the backdrop, the same issue that our church was struggling with was also seen in the political atmosphere, which included both secular and nonsecular people.  There was a question on one of the election ballots that essentially stated, “Is marriage defined as between a man and a woman?”  People had stickers, lawn signs, and other propaganda crying out for others to either “Vote yes.” or “Vote no.”  Voting “yes” was affirming traditional marriage.  Voting “no” was affirming two persons, regardless of sex.

Calvary began to go through a discernment process.  As a church, we began to ask, “What do we really believe about these issues?  What does scripture say?”  There were people on both sides of the debate making biblical arguments and appealing to personal experience.  It became very raw and intense.  What was most disconcerting for me was that I did not understand what was happening.  As a teenager, I did not yet have the theological prowess to navigate through the nuances of where scripture pointed on my own.  Furthermore, no adult could really explain to me why what the church was doing was either right or wrong. 

It became a tumultuous experience at Calvary.  It was the first time I saw division rip through a church.  Kids repeated to their friends what they had heard at home.  I started to see where my friends fell on this issue and, by extension, where their families fell. 

I began wondering what was going on.  I thought marriage was supposed to be a good and beautiful union.  A covenant that was modeled after Christ’s relationship with the church.  Yet now the topic of marriage was creating division and confusion.  There was angst among all these people.  The debate transcended church and I saw it at school, home, and in our neighborhood.  It was everywhere.  I didn’t know what to do with it. 

I started repeating what a lot of my friends, who were on the more progressive side, were saying.  On the surface, their stance felt more loving, and I never wanted to be anti-love.  As a result, there was a long time when I thought two men, or two women could be married.  It remained an unexamined belief for a while because I did not yet have a theological rationale for why it was not God’s best or God’s design.  

The debate within the church escalated and amounted to statements such as, “Well, the Jesus I believe in wouldn’t do (fill in the blank).”   People began asserting the power of scripture to their own personal opinions.  It was very messy.  

Calvary began the process of leaving the ELCA denomination.  The church bylaws indicated that the motion to leave had to pass by a 2/3 vote of church members, not only once but twice.  It was a high bar, but the church reached it without problem.  Calvary left the ELCA and became an independent Lutheran congregation.  Regardless of position, the congregation was left with the vitriol from the division.  It was no longer a place of great joy.  The remnants of the discord altered the vibe of the church. 

The entire process took years to finalize.  At the end the church did not leave unscathed.  Many people left, pastors retired, and programming was cut.  It was sad to witness so much hurt in the church.  Up until that point it had been a beautiful and unifying place.

After high school, I attended a small liberal college, Gustavas Adolphus, that was an hour and a half from home.  Like most first year students I was pre-med before I explored other careers such as nursing, athletic training, and physical therapy.  It was during that time I was exposed to more progressive and liberal theologies.  My prior experience with the fallout at Calvary began to be compounded by the new concepts I heard in college.  Together, they started to water down my faith and my Christian practice. 

Process theology was an example of something that I learned.  It was the idea that God was not immutable or even omniscient.  God was at the same point in time with us and unable to intervene.  God could not break the laws of science or act in an omnipotent manner.  He had divested Himself of those things when He created.  He did not have control.

It was a convenient theology because it answered a lot of questions about evil.  Someone could ask, “Why is God allowing evil to occur?” The answer according to process theology? Because God can’t do anything about it.  He does not have the power.  It ended the science and religion conversation by getting rid of religion.  It made inner faith a little easier because we did not have to be all up in arms about people’s different gods because we were, after all, on the same page as God. 

I saw how it was helpful for people’s personal ends.  It allowed for people to have a Christian faith that did not make them wrestle with evil or even science.   For a time, I was captivated by it.  I thought, “Oh, so I’m kind of a co-partner with God.”  What was dangerous was that often we were told something that had a seed of truth to it, but it was surrounded by fluff and ideas that were not right.  It seemed very innocent at the beginning, but then it led us down a path we did not mean to go down. 

By fall semester of sophomore year, I knew something was wrong with my academic track.  I remember the exact place I was standing on campus when I had this profound sense of discontentment with what I was doing.  I had just left my cellular and molecular biology class.  Although I was not having trouble with the class, I knew it was not what I was supposed to be doing.  So, I withdrew from the course.  It was the only WI I would have on my transcript.

Gustavas Adolphus was in the Swedish Lutheran tradition and had a mandatory minimum of one theological studies credit.  Spring semester of sophomore year I took two religion courses. One of the classes I took was on Christian theologies, religion, and ecology.  It was eye opening. 

For the first time I saw an intellectual academic study of faith connected with the practice of faith.  It was awesome!  Christianity was not just for people who believed based on a lot of feelings.  I saw there were smart people who had worked out coherent philosophical and metaphysical systems while taking scripture and church history into account.  It made the gospel message apply to our lives in ways that touched all of us.  I saw how theology used correctly was a balm to the soul. 

My religion classes helped me identify what ideas had theological metaphysical incoherence.  My desire to dig deeper in a tenacious way kicked in.  I saw what was and was not the God of the Bible.  I began to refute false theologies and ideas.  Rather than accept things at face value, I challenged myself to think about what it all meant. 

God would then give me an opportunity to be placed alongside the right person and situation where my theology would be refined.