Some people associate an "all-or-nothing ultimatum" with identifying as a Christian: "You believe the entirety of the Bible and take it as fact, or none of it. There isn't room to pick and choose."
This is a big challenge for people who—by contrast—identify as Christian, but take more of a middle-ground approach on many of the issues the Bible raises.
On one hand, I get it. Religion isn't Chipotle: you don't get to customize your order and get something completely different than the patron behind you ... or do you?
Like most children who grew up attending church, I took all of what I was taught as fact. The stories of apples, snakes, arks, and crowns of thorns swam around in my thoughts. As I closed my eyes each night, I drew comfort from these stories.
As I got older, I was faced with contradictions between what I had come to believe and what I was experiencing. I began to doubt. In all honesty, this doubt brought along with it an enormous amount of guilt.
The first time my faith came into question was during a 6th-grade mythology lesson. As a society, the ancient Greeks had created gods to help make sense of the unknown. These gods were blamed for misfortune or worshiped for blessings. The idea of creating tales to help cope with unexplained events brought comfort into a situation that was previously frightening.
The concept of stories explaining the unknown was a part of my own faith background, too.
The second time I examined my identity as a Christian was near the end of college. I attended a church that was a different denomination than the one I grew up attending. They still used a Bible though. So how different could it be? I left in shock about not only how differently the sermon was approached, but how the meaning in the words had changed for me.
It became apparent that the Bible was being interpreted in a number of ways to fit a purpose, or even a specific agenda.
As a consequence of this experience, I found it difficult to see the Bible as factual. My opinion was a fact is not interpretable. You shouldn't be able to read the same passage and draw individualized conclusions from it.
Overwhelmingly, I had the urge to find fault in all of it.
As the years have passed, I still find comfort in the faith I had as a child. I have allowed myself to accept the Bible for what I believe it is: a wonderful guide for life, yet still subjective to the reader.
After openly talking with others, I have found I'm not alone. People might not use the phrasing "pick and choose," but they have found other ways to meet in the middle when it comes to the Bible and its rich selection of narrative.
I have found my own way to believe. I personally don't need the approval of other religions or institutions; I need only the approval of God. I will find what I think is good, and in the good, there will be God or whatever he/she may be called.
I think a middle ground can exist. It just takes people realizing their own way can't always be 100 percent right. Finding faults in other people and their interpretations is easy, but taking the time to understand each other's thoughts and ideas—and recognizing that just because they're different doesn't necessarily mean one of us is wrong—would leave us all much better off in the end.
Written by Alisha Wittstruck
Interesting. What's your take on the Bible and inerrancy and literal and figurative meanings and how we read it and what it means to believe in it?
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
Tuesday, July 23, 2019
Tuesday, July 9, 2019
When Your Parenting is Put to the Test
In a few weeks, my son will be on his way to college. At such a time, lots of parents take stock. (Just Google "tips for parents of college students," or look for online essays on the topic).
I'm a bundle of nerves, sublimating my anxiety by buying sheet sets and collecting boxes for the car ride, one which will result in driving home without the boy who, now almost a man, was the second-grade "new kid on the block," the diligent Eagle Scout, and the senior high school student playing Macduff in "Macbeth."
As parents, we tend to second-guess ourselves a lot along the way to such transitional times. Did we give our kids the tools they need to succeed in work, in relationships, in the challenges they will inevitably encounter? What about the times we waved the white flag when we should have stood firm, or didn't give in and perhaps should have?
Whether you are a stay-at-home parent or have a career outside of it, you are likely to have the same question: Did I help my son or daughter navigate the rocky path to adulthood as best I could?
At such times, you might also remember how many other people and places have influenced-and will continue to influence-your child. There's the English course in junior high where he was introduced to a famous British poet for the first time, one he can't wait to study in college. There's the music class where she learned to play the trumpet: she's already signed up for marching band next summer.
Then there's the music he plays when he's hanging with his friends-and the door is closed. And let's not forget the friend who's grappling with drug addiction, the Cub Scout trip to the mountains, the Saturdays volunteering at the hospital, and the mission trip to Guatemala.
There are so many threads that weave the fabric of a person's life. As parents, ours is only one of them, though certainly one of the most important.
Your voice and influence won't cease to matter when they show up at their freshman orientation week. But they will be put to the test as perhaps never before. And in that way, the example you set may, ironically enough, be very important. Are you a person of your word? Are you generous-with praise, with money, with moral and psychological support? Are you a good friend?
Part of the fun (or so I'm trying to tell myself) of being the parent of a college student is watching what happens when you become the backbeat of your child's life, instead of the melody. I feel as though I'm cramming for a very important test ... and I'm not sure how I'll do.
Ask me in a year. I'll let you know how it goes.
Written by Elizabeth Eisenstadt Evans
A kid going off to college can be traumatic—for both the kid and the parents. If this has been an episode in your life, how did you handle it?
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
I'm a bundle of nerves, sublimating my anxiety by buying sheet sets and collecting boxes for the car ride, one which will result in driving home without the boy who, now almost a man, was the second-grade "new kid on the block," the diligent Eagle Scout, and the senior high school student playing Macduff in "Macbeth."
As parents, we tend to second-guess ourselves a lot along the way to such transitional times. Did we give our kids the tools they need to succeed in work, in relationships, in the challenges they will inevitably encounter? What about the times we waved the white flag when we should have stood firm, or didn't give in and perhaps should have?
Whether you are a stay-at-home parent or have a career outside of it, you are likely to have the same question: Did I help my son or daughter navigate the rocky path to adulthood as best I could?
At such times, you might also remember how many other people and places have influenced-and will continue to influence-your child. There's the English course in junior high where he was introduced to a famous British poet for the first time, one he can't wait to study in college. There's the music class where she learned to play the trumpet: she's already signed up for marching band next summer.
Then there's the music he plays when he's hanging with his friends-and the door is closed. And let's not forget the friend who's grappling with drug addiction, the Cub Scout trip to the mountains, the Saturdays volunteering at the hospital, and the mission trip to Guatemala.
There are so many threads that weave the fabric of a person's life. As parents, ours is only one of them, though certainly one of the most important.
Your voice and influence won't cease to matter when they show up at their freshman orientation week. But they will be put to the test as perhaps never before. And in that way, the example you set may, ironically enough, be very important. Are you a person of your word? Are you generous-with praise, with money, with moral and psychological support? Are you a good friend?
Part of the fun (or so I'm trying to tell myself) of being the parent of a college student is watching what happens when you become the backbeat of your child's life, instead of the melody. I feel as though I'm cramming for a very important test ... and I'm not sure how I'll do.
Ask me in a year. I'll let you know how it goes.
Written by Elizabeth Eisenstadt Evans
A kid going off to college can be traumatic—for both the kid and the parents. If this has been an episode in your life, how did you handle it?
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
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