Kicking at the tires of heresy
Going to seminary has forced me to reflect on and wonder about many of the things I’ve believed over time. Things like God, faith, denominations, grace, justification, and righteousness, to name a few. After a couple years of study, I’m not really any more sure about much, but I do have a better understanding of where the things I was taught came from.
I’ve also had to face some of the fears that had been embedded in my faith. Mainly that I would lose my salvation, or be labeled a heretic, if I did or said the wrong thing—that I might be kicked out or shunned by my church community, like I’d seen happen to other people I loved.
That fear struck deep.
One of the things I’ve wrestled with for most of my life is belonging.
I have always desperately wanted to be on the inside of in. I would do almost anything to be there and stay there.
I was never really a part of the cool kids in any of my places—family, school, work, or church. Maybe because I’m more introverted than extroverted. Possibly because I chose things like choir and theater over sports. I’ve been overweight almost my entire life and it would be a lie to say that what I look like didn’t play a role in all of that too—both in how I saw myself and how others saw me.
Whatever the reasons, I had to work extra hard to stay “in.” I made questionable (sometimes known as illegal) choices. I chose to stay in harmful jobs and relationships. The cost of being on the inside of in is really high. People I love were hurt, both because of and in spite of me.
But at church it was easier.
In the church and with my faith, I knew just how to belong. There was a checklist of ways to make sure I was in, and I checked all the boxes. I didn’t question authority. I believed my pastors when they told me what the Bible said. I was a good girl. I was on staff at a church. I did my daily devos.
As time went on though, I found myself creating more and more work-arounds for the checklist items. My whole being began to feel that something was wrong or at least incongruent, but the checklist that was required in order to keep belonging didn’t allow for doubts and deviations.
I didn’t want to be out, but, eventually, I just couldn’t stay in.
Being out was lonely.
I didn’t realize how far out I would feel when I began to leave. How lonely and disoriented I would be. How often I would look back and feel a swirl of missing, anger, joy, and pain.
That was over five years ago. These days, I’ve created a different checklist that seems to work for me right now.
Part of creation? IN.
BELOVED? CHECK.
It’s messy and hard having that kind of checklist. But it’s much simpler to belong. I’ve learned something that has changed me. It’s changed my faith. It’s changed my relationships. It’s changed my politics. It’s changed everything.
Want to know what it is? You’re never actually outside. You are always loved.
What happens when you know you’re never outside?
For me, it means I get to ask all of my questions. There’s always space to wrestle and wonder with God and other people. I can kick at the tires of heresy without worrying if it will get me kicked out.
Maybe that “heresy” word makes you nervous, but consider this definition from Oxford languages:
noun: heresy; plural noun: heresies her·e·sy/ˈherəsē/
belief or opinion contrary to orthodox religious (especially Christian) doctrine.
Similar: dissension, dissent, dissidence, blasphemy, nonconformity
- from Greek haireomai ‘choose’ or hairesis ‘choice’
For me, that word was scary when I had that big church checklist. It’s not scary anymore. It just means I might believe something contrary to other opinions and beliefs. I’m still in. I’m still loved. I still belong.
40 Orchards is where I discovered that I could wrestle, doubt, be angry, heal, and ask all of my questions—and still belong. I hope that never changes. If you need a place to do any of those things, I would love for you to join us.
You bring your whole self. I’ll bring the tire.
Love, Lisa
This summer, we are asking potentially dangerous questions.
Join us on the third Wednesday of each month from 8-10 am CST on Zoom.
Come to one or to all three.
In June, we are asking: Is God a man? Or… What does gender mean in Genesis? Does genderfulness exist?
In July, we are asking: Is there original sin? Or… Are humans good or bad from birth? And how does that affect the rest of the story?
In August, we are asking: Is the Gospel about heaven? Or… Is faith about more than heaven? What does God say about life on earth?
We will use midrash to explore the language, history, and hints within the text, while brining our own questions and vulnerabilities into the safety of the gathered circle. Together, we will expand each other’s experience of what is sacred, whole, and good.