Why I’m Writing to My White Evangelical Friends
Photo by Martin Wilner
We all hold assumptions. We all think something is “normal” until we live or work with someone who says “that’s not normal” — whether it’s how to defrost a chicken or get rid of a cold. It’s not until we encounter another way of doing a thing that we even think about why we’ve always done it that way; or where we got our ideas.
I know many people (we all do) whose beliefs have been nurtured over lifetimes and passed from generation to generation. Even when they turn out to be wrong, these beliefs are VERY HARD — nearly impossible — to break through, because they are so rooted in one’s family or cultural identity, and are sometimes required for maintaining social belonging.
But, every so often, someone will bravely jump ship and come back to report: “you guys, that’s not normal…here’s what I learned.” This report does two things simultaneously:
1. It presents an alternative reality, and…
2. It questions the judgment of the community.
So, for someone to consider the new information, they also have to be willing to question the community from which they received their ideas. This is the part that leads to internal tension, awkward conversations, identity crisis, rejection, and more! And most people will choose to avoid said crisis by trusting their long-established social community over you/your alternative ideas (no matter how good your logic or evidence). It is not personal; it is self-protection.
. . .
I think this is a good thing for us to keep in mind as we try to maintain relationships with people across the political spectrum. We would do well to remember that for someone who only trusts one (alarmist) news source, THAT is the reality they live in. And it is a frightening place. It’s no wonder they are unshakable in their vote for a candidate who says he is their only hope; it is the only path they can see.
And, as much as you or I may like to think so, none of us have the capacity to be objective or unbiased. We all exercise TRUST in someone else’s (or a collective group’s) judgment when we consume ideas.
The best we can do is analyze where our ideas have come from, test their validity, observe their “fruit,” and try to remain open to change.
. . .
If you’ve followed my series at all to this point, I hope you’ve picked up on some of these themes. My hope in writing is not to change anybody’s beliefs (trust me, I know many of you have and will strongly disagree), but to try to create space for you to think about WHY you believe what you believe, and HOW you landed there; to interrogate ideas that have been stagnant (or invisible to you) for a long time, and try to offer some fresh perspective.
. . .
I feel like I am in a unique position to do so— with “insider” evangelical knowledge, yet without the risk of financial or social repercussions. In other words, my job security does not depend on me falling in line with the group’s shared assumptions, nor are my closest relationships contingent upon what I believe (highly recommend)! So, you can be assured that 1) I am being honest and 2) I’m not strongly invested in whether you agree 🙃
. . .
To give some back story: I have 30 years of experience in the evangelical subculture (and if you count my years as a pastor’s kid, 20+ years in ministry ha)! I was never just on the periphery of evangelicalism; I was DEEPLY invested. That’s without even mentioning my years at an evangelical university and seminary, or my ordination, or my experiences as a church planter, or that I kissed my husband for the first time on our wedding day (bc TrueLoveWaits 😉). I knew the church like I knew my own family, and like I knew myself. It was all wrapped up into one thing for me!
I knew this wasn’t “normal,” per se, but that was part of the charm! I was set apart by God! He had a plan for my life! Until…long story short, my idea of “God’s plan” hit a dead end. The expectations I had held, the assumptions I had trusted in — they turned out to be untrustworthy, and I had to figure out why and where I went wrong. Dazed and confused, like the rug had been pulled out from under me, I entered a season of grief.
I waded into disappointment, disillusionment, the unknown — feeling both betrayed AND like a betrayer — questioning so many things of which I had once been absolutely sure. But, I couldn’t trust my old assumptions anymore! If I was going to keep my intellectual integrity intact, if I was going to be any kind of Christian, I had to be an honest one. I had to follow my questions all the way to the bottom. I had to withdraw from the community that raised me, untangle my identity, and figure it out.
Over the past 4 years, I have privately written my way through the process of leaving the church I knew, faith-deconstruction, and my visceral repulsion to “Trumpgelicalism.” Years and hundreds of pages on Google Docs later, I intended on keeping my thoughts to myself. I was writing to make sense of my journey, for my therapeutic soul-healing, NOT to change “white evangelical” minds or “reform” the church…
. . .
It was the murder of George Floyd, and the collective evangelical response (or lack thereof), that compelled me to speak out.
It was the reality of how evangelical beliefs and political choices were spilling over and causing harm to people I loved, that compelled me to speak out.
It was the outrage for my immigrant and LGBTQ friends and coworkers— the REAL PEOPLE being targeted and hurt by this administration — that compelled me to speak out.
It was the stacked national crises of 2020 (and where evangelicals fell in the mix) that crystallized the responsibility I have in all this…and compelled me to speak out.
To borrow a phrase from MLK Jr., “the fierce urgency of now” captured my whole attention and I could no longer be a bystander or remain silent.
. . .
I was not alive at the time of Emmett Till’s horrific lynching, or the subsequent Civil Rights movement. But, I WAS alive (an adult pastor *in Florida*) at the time of Trayvon Martin’s senseless murder. And yet, it escaped my attention. I was blissfully ignorant — busy with other things. While the first men, women, and children began crying out “Black Lives Matter,” I was still in my own white world; asleep to the injustice happening right outside my door.
I wish someone would have shaken me awake!
…it’s the least I can do to try to pass on the favor.
THAT’S WHY I started writing to my white evangelical friends.
. . .
I know all too well the danger of the echo-chamber, where all your friends look, believe, vote, or live just like you. Where ideas are perpetuated based on untested, inherited assumptions, or shared misinformation, rather than thorough investigation or critical thought. I’m speaking out now because I recognize the responsibility I have…to report back, to disrupt the narrative, to present an alternate reality.
Whether you are willing to engage, is up to you. As I’ve already said, questioning familiar certainties and confronting hypocrisies may mean giving up what you hold dear (namely, your sure and steady view of the world). There’s no way around the fact that change is destabilizing.
But, I have also found it to be a source of immense RELIEF — where I can be open, honest, grounded, free, whole, and fully myself. Where I can focus on the things that matter most. And, to me, that makes any discomfort — any growing pains — MORE THAN WORTH IT.
So, I invite you into the conversation. I can’t imagine there will be a better time to lean into discomfort, than the “unprecedented” times we’re living in NOW (#2020)!
