transfundamentalism
I am an advocate for Black Lives Matter. But I'm finding that even some of my fellow advocates are demonstrating the very traits we claim to have left behind.
Throughout my teenage and young adult years I heard the term "fundamentalist" more and more. For a long time I didn't really know what it meant; all I knew was that no one seemed to use it positively, and it always seemed directed toward conservative Christians - the community that raised me.
Over time I began to learn what was meant by the term. "Fundamentalism" is broadly defined by Merriam-Webster's as "a movement or attitude stressing strict and literal adherence to a set of basic principles." This is most often in a religious context: in North America we see it in Christianity, but the basic idea also applies to strict adherents to Islam or other religions. Within Christianity, fundamentalism is closely tied to the doctrine of Biblical inerrancy, and many of the typical "fundamental" positions range from adherence to a 10% tithe because of Genesis 28 and Leviticus 27, to a six-day creation based on Genesis 1, to the banning of women as teachers in the Church because of 1 Timothy 2, to a belief in a literal, eternal hell of torment based on a couple parables.
Fundamentalism is not by definition bad. It doesn't make the adherents bad people. I grew up fundamentalist, though I didn't know the term at the time, and most of the "basic principles" we adhered closely to were beautiful, life-giving practices. However, we are seeing a cultural trend in which young adults who grew up in the conservative, fundamentalist Christian context are often found pushing away from it. For some it just means embracing a more open Christian church culture like some branches of Anglicanism, and for others it has meant leaving the faith entirely.
In large part, this generation's shift often begins with new perspectives on political stances. Kids who grew up adherents to conservative Republican platform issues slowly start to lose their certainty of those values or at least the means of achieving them. While we may have campaigned for traditional marriage as children, now we have a plethora of gay friends and family that we love more deeply than the tradition. While we may have been staunch advocates of gun rights when we were young and growing, now we have grown up in a culture of mass shootings and we're tired of nothing changing. So we have changed.
There's a new generation of ex-vangelicals - Christians and non-Christians. In light of recent events - whether Covid-19 or Black Lives Matter - I've seen this generation speaking out: pushing for better protective measures, condemning police brutality, protesting on the streets or elsewhere. And for the most part I am with them. But a trend among many of my now-progressive friends' posts started to concern me. It runs something along these lines:
"I value ________. And if you don't, unfriend me."
"We can disagree on a lot of things, but _______ is not one of them."
"If you still believe __________, I don't need or want you in my life anymore."
What are we seeing? What I'm seeing is that many of the people who actively left conservative fundamentalism are no longer conservative, but still fundamentalist. Still strictly adhering to basic principles with no room for alternatives or variation. I've decided to call this "transfundamentalism" because while it has changed views and principles, it still holds them the same way. I define "transfundamentalism" as the position of those who have shifted from one side of the political spectrum to the other, but who still adhere as strictly and unwaveringly to their beliefs.
We can believe the "right things" but still do it poorly.
So this post is a simple one: a plea for all of us - conservative, progressive, Republican, Democrat, Christian, non-Christian, post-Christian, and Christianish - to love people more deeply than their beliefs. I dream of a world where we stop creating enemies and instead recognize that with few exceptions, everyone is trying to do their best with where their life experience has brought them.
This doesn't mean we shouldn't believe anything; we should still actively speak out and work for change in the ways we think the world needs.
It also doesn't mean that we allow people with toxic, dangerous, and intolerant beliefs about us to play an active role in our lives. In the process of writing this post, I was given feedback by a black friend of mine. He pointed out that while he truly believes that we need to have the ability to dialogue and that it is dangerous to create a circle of only people you agree with, he has also faced the fact that some people he used to associate with are justifying the death of a man just like him. That crossed a line for him, one that he needed to draw boundaries with. We agreed that there is a crucial difference between respecting someone's humanity and right to exist versus letting them maintain a place of prominence in your life. As a non-black person, this is an easier conversation for me to have, but when the "issue" on the table becomes something like the rights and treatment of women, those boundaries become much more needed. Ultimately, it is not about an ambivalent acceptance of everyone, it's about recognizing that there is another human being on the other side of the argument, no matter how atrocious the argument may be. Some crossed lines may result in the end of a friendship, but it can be done with respect, remorse, and maybe hope.
Because if we cannot see the person on the other side of our beliefs, then we will become part of the problem. I want to be part of the solution.
If you believe differently than me even on the most basic of my values, I will still respect your humanity. I will engage and listen, and hope that you will do the same. Because that is the kind of world I want to live in.
Throughout my teenage and young adult years I heard the term "fundamentalist" more and more. For a long time I didn't really know what it meant; all I knew was that no one seemed to use it positively, and it always seemed directed toward conservative Christians - the community that raised me.
Over time I began to learn what was meant by the term. "Fundamentalism" is broadly defined by Merriam-Webster's as "a movement or attitude stressing strict and literal adherence to a set of basic principles." This is most often in a religious context: in North America we see it in Christianity, but the basic idea also applies to strict adherents to Islam or other religions. Within Christianity, fundamentalism is closely tied to the doctrine of Biblical inerrancy, and many of the typical "fundamental" positions range from adherence to a 10% tithe because of Genesis 28 and Leviticus 27, to a six-day creation based on Genesis 1, to the banning of women as teachers in the Church because of 1 Timothy 2, to a belief in a literal, eternal hell of torment based on a couple parables.
Fundamentalism is not by definition bad. It doesn't make the adherents bad people. I grew up fundamentalist, though I didn't know the term at the time, and most of the "basic principles" we adhered closely to were beautiful, life-giving practices. However, we are seeing a cultural trend in which young adults who grew up in the conservative, fundamentalist Christian context are often found pushing away from it. For some it just means embracing a more open Christian church culture like some branches of Anglicanism, and for others it has meant leaving the faith entirely.
In large part, this generation's shift often begins with new perspectives on political stances. Kids who grew up adherents to conservative Republican platform issues slowly start to lose their certainty of those values or at least the means of achieving them. While we may have campaigned for traditional marriage as children, now we have a plethora of gay friends and family that we love more deeply than the tradition. While we may have been staunch advocates of gun rights when we were young and growing, now we have grown up in a culture of mass shootings and we're tired of nothing changing. So we have changed.
There's a new generation of ex-vangelicals - Christians and non-Christians. In light of recent events - whether Covid-19 or Black Lives Matter - I've seen this generation speaking out: pushing for better protective measures, condemning police brutality, protesting on the streets or elsewhere. And for the most part I am with them. But a trend among many of my now-progressive friends' posts started to concern me. It runs something along these lines:
"I value ________. And if you don't, unfriend me."
"We can disagree on a lot of things, but _______ is not one of them."
"If you still believe __________, I don't need or want you in my life anymore."
What are we seeing? What I'm seeing is that many of the people who actively left conservative fundamentalism are no longer conservative, but still fundamentalist. Still strictly adhering to basic principles with no room for alternatives or variation. I've decided to call this "transfundamentalism" because while it has changed views and principles, it still holds them the same way. I define "transfundamentalism" as the position of those who have shifted from one side of the political spectrum to the other, but who still adhere as strictly and unwaveringly to their beliefs.
We can believe the "right things" but still do it poorly.
So this post is a simple one: a plea for all of us - conservative, progressive, Republican, Democrat, Christian, non-Christian, post-Christian, and Christianish - to love people more deeply than their beliefs. I dream of a world where we stop creating enemies and instead recognize that with few exceptions, everyone is trying to do their best with where their life experience has brought them.
This doesn't mean we shouldn't believe anything; we should still actively speak out and work for change in the ways we think the world needs.
It also doesn't mean that we allow people with toxic, dangerous, and intolerant beliefs about us to play an active role in our lives. In the process of writing this post, I was given feedback by a black friend of mine. He pointed out that while he truly believes that we need to have the ability to dialogue and that it is dangerous to create a circle of only people you agree with, he has also faced the fact that some people he used to associate with are justifying the death of a man just like him. That crossed a line for him, one that he needed to draw boundaries with. We agreed that there is a crucial difference between respecting someone's humanity and right to exist versus letting them maintain a place of prominence in your life. As a non-black person, this is an easier conversation for me to have, but when the "issue" on the table becomes something like the rights and treatment of women, those boundaries become much more needed. Ultimately, it is not about an ambivalent acceptance of everyone, it's about recognizing that there is another human being on the other side of the argument, no matter how atrocious the argument may be. Some crossed lines may result in the end of a friendship, but it can be done with respect, remorse, and maybe hope.
Because if we cannot see the person on the other side of our beliefs, then we will become part of the problem. I want to be part of the solution.
If you believe differently than me even on the most basic of my values, I will still respect your humanity. I will engage and listen, and hope that you will do the same. Because that is the kind of world I want to live in.
Comments
Post a Comment
thoughts so far