The Ties That Bind
or, Why it's hard for evangelicals to leave
Dave over at The Grace Pages has started telling his version of the story of why it's so hard to 'get out' when you've once been a fundamentalist. He has some good things to say about the story and world-view that go along with fundamentalism and make it peculiarly hard for anyone who has once signed up to it, to move on.
My own experience has been that it is also pretty hard to get out when you've been an evangelical. (OK, some of you may be thinking, So what's the difference? but I was definitely an evangelical in a group that strenuously denied being fundamentalists, so naturally I believed that too.) Not that 'get out' is quite the right word - in all sorts of ways I'm still evangelical - just ask my colleagues in the local Chapter if you don't believe me. The fact is, it's difficult to move your position in all sorts of ways: within the camp, over to the other end,just somewhere near the door, never mind making a complete break for it.
Perhaps it is something to do with inhabiting an edifice of truth which does claim to be complete and finished: so that any attempt to move any of the walls (or even the pictures on the walls) feels like it will bring the whole thing crashing down, because every bit is load-bearing. (Which is why resisting any change in the Church's teachings on sexuality suddenly becomes the last-ditch stand for orthodoxy.)
But I think it also has a lot to do with belonging. These are groups which deal with something intensely personal, your own faith in Jesus and relationship with him. In fact, they stress the centrality of that very direct and personal relationship. This makes for an extraordinary sense of belonging, far stronger than that experienced by train-spotters, real ale fanatics, or even bloggers. These ties are thicker than water, thicker than those of blood. So when you feel you want to move on, question the group that has nurtured you and given you your self-identity, maybe even leave it - you feel like a traitor, and even worse you feel like a traitor who no longer knows who or what he is.
Put it like that, and it surprises me much less that 'moving on' for me was an intensely traumatic experience which I didn't come out of without a pretty unpleasant little bout of depression. And depression, as you'll know, is a bit like malaria. It keeps recurring in the form of other mental fevers: paranoia, anxiety and the like. But at least I think I am out; in the sense of being free to come or go as I please, enjoy the good things of the house (and they are many) but still be able to go home, to a wider home, at the end of the day.
Dave over at The Grace Pages has started telling his version of the story of why it's so hard to 'get out' when you've once been a fundamentalist. He has some good things to say about the story and world-view that go along with fundamentalism and make it peculiarly hard for anyone who has once signed up to it, to move on.
My own experience has been that it is also pretty hard to get out when you've been an evangelical. (OK, some of you may be thinking, So what's the difference? but I was definitely an evangelical in a group that strenuously denied being fundamentalists, so naturally I believed that too.) Not that 'get out' is quite the right word - in all sorts of ways I'm still evangelical - just ask my colleagues in the local Chapter if you don't believe me. The fact is, it's difficult to move your position in all sorts of ways: within the camp, over to the other end,just somewhere near the door, never mind making a complete break for it.
Perhaps it is something to do with inhabiting an edifice of truth which does claim to be complete and finished: so that any attempt to move any of the walls (or even the pictures on the walls) feels like it will bring the whole thing crashing down, because every bit is load-bearing. (Which is why resisting any change in the Church's teachings on sexuality suddenly becomes the last-ditch stand for orthodoxy.)
But I think it also has a lot to do with belonging. These are groups which deal with something intensely personal, your own faith in Jesus and relationship with him. In fact, they stress the centrality of that very direct and personal relationship. This makes for an extraordinary sense of belonging, far stronger than that experienced by train-spotters, real ale fanatics, or even bloggers. These ties are thicker than water, thicker than those of blood. So when you feel you want to move on, question the group that has nurtured you and given you your self-identity, maybe even leave it - you feel like a traitor, and even worse you feel like a traitor who no longer knows who or what he is.
Put it like that, and it surprises me much less that 'moving on' for me was an intensely traumatic experience which I didn't come out of without a pretty unpleasant little bout of depression. And depression, as you'll know, is a bit like malaria. It keeps recurring in the form of other mental fevers: paranoia, anxiety and the like. But at least I think I am out; in the sense of being free to come or go as I please, enjoy the good things of the house (and they are many) but still be able to go home, to a wider home, at the end of the day.
posted by Tony at 8/23/2004 06:21:00 pm
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