Why I Understand The Critics
To the critics. I so understand where you are coming from.
Recently I’ve been contemplating the emergence theory and something a friend of mine said. The comment was, “We’ve allowed the critics to define the emergent church.” I resonated with his statement because the nature of the conversation has been predominantly deconstructive in nature. Many are learning to question the beliefs of their youth and come to terms that all is not right in Christendom. And the absence of a clear, defined theology to progress forward with allows the critics to throw anything out as true. It doesn’t really matter what those within emergence say because there is little in the way of organized documentation to reflect a response. At least not yet.
Much of the tension within emergence is hearsay and outright lies. Brian McLaren had a great post recently exploring the three questions he gets asked the most, and his answers were awesome. They were in direct opposition to many of the portraits painted of him. And what I appreciate about Brian is his ability to cast off the criticisms and move on. Well done Brian. Do the critics shout from the rooftops and declared, “We got it wrong?” No. My friend Shawn has a great post that explores the deep hypocrisy of much of the critics.
But as I pondered the criticisms and critics, I realized something very important. It’s virtually (but not entirely) impossible to leave something so important as faith, especially a specific way of believing, without something coherent to replace it with. Yet that is exactly what this point in history called for, to leave the known for the unknown. Much of the emergence journey over the last ten years (possibly longer) has been a journey of faith INTO the abyss. It was an exodus of mass proportions. There was no net to catch us. There was no map to follow. There were only people, willing to take the risk to raise their hand and say, “Something is not working, and damn it I’m not going to take it anymore.”
The critics weren’t there during the periods of deep unrest and painful sweats, that accompanied the idea of leaving the safe confines of what I had always known. They weren’t there for the penetrating questions and fears that I had to confront as I questioned the doctrines that had historical significance. They also weren’t there for the soul satisfying conversations with those who dared to question with me, fighting for resolution and reconciliation with the stories in our heads. They weren’t there for the moments of grace when I was reminded that there was no question I could ask that was too big for my Heavenly Father.
When I look back and see the critics, those who questioned my sanity, my judgment, and even my salvation, I now realized I don’t really see the critics. I see me. I see a scared little boy unable to take a risk for fear of upsetting the ruling authority. I see myself trapped under the weight of wanting to be loved, yet finding none of it within the religious system I was told would work. I see the need to believe just a little harder, to fight away the nagging questions in the back of my mind that kept me up at night. I see deep wounds of insignificance that I had hoped would come from becoming the smarter guy in the room. And I see the loneliness that comes from finding only the fault within the other, the one that reminds me of my own brokenness.
If I left anything, I now realize it was the need to validate myself through my belief, which is impossible to do. Love awakened in me a reality that I have always been loved. I just hadn’t seen it.
So to the critics. Much love.
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Jonathan Brink
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Existential Punk
