david hayward. artist. cartoonist. teacher.

I don’t at this time want to divulge all the abuses that has happened to me in the church from the hands of its leaders and members. For many reasons. One is that those experiences carry a significance for me that is sacred. To tell you about them diminishes their gravity. Perhaps one day. But another reason is that I don’t know how to do it in ways that wouldn’t inflict the same harm upon the perpetrators. They are still within the church, the same universal tribe I am still a part of, and to broadcast my experiences could become a form of vengeance I am not willing to exact. Perhaps one day, when all the poison has been lanced, I will be able to tell you my stories completely free of malice.

So on the one hand I am vague. I don’t name names unless I am sure I am not harming someone, even if you might think they deserve it. Because I have experienced it in full measure first hand, I am extremely sensitive to abuse within religious structures and organizations. This is why, on the other hand, I am considered ruthless in my critique of the principalities and the powers. Because they can be abusive in such subtle, illusive and even unconscious ways, I seem unforgiving in my analysis of the church, religion and spirituality. I and my family have been tortured by very well-meaning and sincere Christians who still don’t comprehend the wounds they have inflicted. But it is because I believe in people, their well-being, rights and freedoms that I do what I do.

I created this chart today to help me get a better grasp on the essentials of fundamentalism. I don’t believe fundamentalism is reserved for the religious right or extremists. I believe it is a mindset that manifests itself in all kinds of positions. I am interested in how dialog and peace can occur between all parties, including fundamentalists. I hope this chart helps us to see that we are all fundamentalists when it comes to certain issues, and depending on the circumstances. I’m suggesting that we all can find ourselves somewhere on this chart. Please keep in mind that all these categories are not necessarily religious. Pardon the visual quality of the chart. It’s the best I can do for now.

Chris Hedges expresses his opinion on fundamentalism in his book I Don’t Believe in Atheists:

The blustering televangelists, and the atheists who rant about the evils of religion, are little more than carnival barkers. They are in show business, and those in show business know complexity does not sell. They trade clichés and insults like cartoon characters. They don masks. One wears the mask of religion, the other wears the mask of science. They banter back and forth in predictable sound bites. They promise, like all advertisers, simple and seductive dreams. This debate engages two bizarre subsets who are well suited to the television culture because of the crudeness of their arguments. One distorts the scientific theory of evolution to explain the behavior and rules for complex social, economic and political systems. The other insists that the six-day story of creation in Genesis is fact and Jesus will descend format the sky to create the kingdom of God on Earth. These antagonists each claim to have discovered an absolute truth. They trade absurdity for absurdity. They show that the danger is not religion or science. The danger is fundamentalism.

My question, and I think the urgent question is: How can fundamentalists and non-fundamentalists dialog? Harvey Cox, in his newest book The Future of Faith, suggests that the most important isn’t interfaith but intrafaith dialog, especially between the fundamentalist wing and the rest. It is the fundamentalist mindset that is his newest concern:

Of course in conversations between people from differing traditions, for example, between Christians and Buddhists, differences always come up. Indeed, that is one purpose of the conversation. But the differences seem to be at a safe remove, since the participants are not a part of the “family”. The can be registered and dismissed as “interesting”. This is not the case, however, with the discrepancies that inevitably arise when those in the interfaith wing of a religion try to converse on a serious level with those from the circle-the-wagons wing of the same affiliation. In these encounters, things get tense, tempers often flare, and people sometimes stomp out of the room. More seems to be at stake. Many people try and then just give up. But quitting merely propels the whole interfaith enterprise toward a dead end. It creates the unpleasant prospect of a future in which, while open-minded members in each religion enjoy cozy colloquies with each other, the ultraconservative wing in each becomes more isolated and truculent.

It has become apparent to me over the last few years of writing this blog that the critical conversation is between the fundamentalists and the rest. It is the fundamentalist mindset that presents the greatest challenge, in my opinion, to open dialog between all parties. Like Cox experienced and observes, as well as Hedges, and just as we do here at nakedpastor, if we all just agreed with each other, what’s the good in that? But when we enter into the foray of disagreement, that’s where the real possibilities lie. I believe it is urgent that we explore ways of dialoging. Love necessitates it.

(The title is inspired from Bruce Cockburn’s song, “Lovers in a Dangerous Time”).

Jesus was in the garden facing torture and death. He asked God to let the cup pass from him. But he finally conceded that it was not what he willed, but what God wills. What his vocation cost him seemed more than he could bear. I identify with that. The extent of my struggle fades in comparison. But I understand what it means to do something difficult reluctantly, to do what I must rather than what I prefer. Especially when things don’t make sense.

I struggle with my call to pastor. I find it very difficult, not because I don’t love the people or the church, but because it hurts. There have been a couple of times in my life when a prophecy has come to pass for me. Once in a blue moon there has been confidence that things made sense. But almost all the time I walk in darkness. Only my next step is illuminated, and that only sometimes, and pale. I can’t find meaning.

I was talking with a friend today who had moved here with his family to be a part of our community. Just after they arrived and made friends, we went through a crisis at the church and much of what they came for disintegrated before their eyes. This has happened so many times and applies to so many people I love. When people move here to be a part of our church, I want them to be happy. I want things to go according to their hopes. I need to provide them meaning, especially when things get rough. But I can’t. I can only love them. I can care. I can be tender. I can be there. That’s all.

The main theme in Job is meaning. He was offensively transparent in his insistence that there was no meaning in his suffering. His friends claimed to have meaning. Who did God exonerate in the end? The one who was blind to meaning. And the ones who claimed to have meaning repented. I can’t  find meaning for myself, for my friends or for my community. But, like Job, I have to trust that God has the meaning. The meaning is God’s. Occasionally, like once or twice in a lifetime, we get glimpses of meaning. But in the end we must simply trust that the story we are in is written with a compassionate hand. And all we can do in the midst of this is love one another. That is the best meaning I can give. For now.