I am the Worst Ex-Fundamentalist Ever

There was a day, not too long ago, when I could have safely been called a fundamentalist.  It's odd, because I wasn't raised in a fundamentalist church or home.  I found my fundamentalism in college of all places. 

Before I tell the rest of my story, perhaps I should give a definition of fundamentalism.  It is, after all, the definition that gives energy to my story.  There is a version of fundamentalism that comes out of the five fundamentals as illuminated by 20th century modernism:  Biblical inspiration, virgin birth, atonement for sin through Christ crucified, bodily resurrection and the historical veracity of Christ's miracles.  Interestingly, if you have a generous interpretation of inspiration (not narrowed to inerrancy- see my earlier posts) and allow for a deep and rich understanding of the atonement, I am still a fundamentalist.  But that's not my definition.  Since the modernist controversies of a century ago, fundamentalism has taken a darker turn.  No longer is it a set of beliefs, fundamentalism is more of a way of thinking and being in a pluralist society.

Fundamentalism, as I chose to embrace it, was a mindset toward the world.  Black/white thinking was encouraged as I began to see everyone who compromised as being on the slippery slope to apostasy (rejection of the Gospel).  Culture was something to be dominated.  Most importantly, I had little grace for those who had different theological constructions than mine.  If you weren't a 5 point Calvinist, I had little space for you.

My story crumbled when I ran into the consequences of my militant faith.  I am not nearly righteous enough to be a fundamentalist.  I became (through God's help) very aware of my own failures and misgivings.  Suddenly, I was afraid of my own apostasy, even while not believing true apostasy was possible (I am Reformed, after all).   And so, in my last year of college, I gave up being a fundamentalist. 

Or so I thought.

In seminary, I developed a new kind of fundamentalism, but one that was more palatable.  Instead of black and white thinking regarding the world, I found myself thinking black and white about fundamentalists.  "They" had weak faith, serious problems with their reading of Scripture and reflected Christ's love so badly that one could hardly call them Christians.  "I'm not one of those Christians," I would proudly say.  And there it is.  Like Dr. Jekyll rejoicing in his good works just to discover that he had turned in Mr. Hyde, like the Pharisee saying "Thank goodness I'm not that guy," I discovered that I had exchanged old enemies for new ones, never actually being renewed in my mind.  I was the worst ex-fundamentalist ever.

I am still repenting, being renewed, of my fundamentalism.  I am slowly learning that Christ did not die and rise again to give us the right enemies, but to collapse our understanding of enemy completely.  It is hard to accept a world in which there are no 100% villains, especially with how easy it is to demonize and hate, but I have not fully arrived unless I can see Christ in everyone.  Everyone.