From Within the Tradition
A number of years ago after a Christmas Eve service at our church, a young man came up to talk with me. He had been raised in our congregation and was well remembered by those who had nurtured him in his faith as a youth. He was now living in New York City doing social work and he was home for a visit.
His comment after the triumphant, late-night Christmas Eve service was, “so, you’re really still doing all of this? You guys really still believe all of this?” I suspect that “by all of this”, he meant the brass ensemble, the familiar carols and the sentimental red ribbons, green garlands and twinkling lights. But at the same time, he was saying something else as well.
Because this alumni of our church youth group, has now proudly transitioned from his “religious upbringing” into a time and place where a humanistic, skeptical and even ironic approach to faith is the norm and expectation. He’s doing good work in New York City, helping people re-settle as refugees in their new country and his question exposes a kind of disappointment with the church of his youth.
In a sense, he was wondering, “what does any of this have to do with the real needs, of real people, in the real world?”
In his stimulating book “The Soul of Doubt”, scholar Dominic Erdozain explores aspects of this same question. He takes on the notion of the distance and difference between the “religious” and the “secular”, and argues that this is really a false-dichotomy. His argument throughout the book is that the rise of what we often call “secularism” today, is not an outside force that is set against the church, so much as it is a kind of reform movement that emerges from within the church.
As one reviewer puts it, “for some time now—at least since John Wesley’s work in the eighteenth century—sharp minds have noticed that an intensified religious consciousness may paradoxically stimulate secularization.”[1] Erdozain is one such “sharp mind”, and he does a good job at surveying and describing the variety of ways that this thesis shows up.
He gives the example of the Enlightenment figure Baruch Spinoza, who was also a father of biblical criticism. Erdozain writes that “Spinoza’s criticism was not a first draft of scientific naturalism but an extension of the Radical Reformation’s spiritual protest against dogma and all its works… Spinoza was not trying to destroy Christian faith: he was trying to rescue it from historical corruptions.”[2]
He also cites other surprising heavyweight figures, usually associated with “secularism” or even atheism. Of Karl Marx, he writes that, “Marx was both a materialist and a moralist… his materialism emerged from his moralism… his religious criticism, centering on theology’s nefarious habit of massaging power, was part of a tradition of prophetic protest…”[3] Marx’s materialist outlook (meaning, that the physical/material world is all that there really is) emerges from a moralistic perspective. In this sense, Marx’ words and work are not some outside force simply against religion, but seem to actually be echoing the Old Testament prophets and even Jesus himself, when it comes to the actions of religious authorities.
In a similar way, Erdozain compares Ludwig Feuerbach, the materialist and atheist, to, “a small-town preacher, maddened by the inertia of his flock”[4] It is worth noting that Feuerbach, like Spinoza, emerges from a strong religious background and tradition, rather than simply being an alien or outside force.
Erdozain frames his whole book within the past 500 years or so, essentially seeing the outworking of the Protestant Reformation and then the Enlightenment, and onward as related phenomena. As Erdozain writes, Feuerbach even consciously saw himself in line with Martin Luther, calling himself, “Luther II”.[5]
One response that I have to the book is to ask at what point does a “protest movement” that emerges out of a tradition still connect to it, and at what point is it really something totally different. Martin Luther is a good example of that. He was the progenitor of the Protestant Reformation, which ushered in sweeping changes to Christendom, and yet, even for all of his bold positions and combative writings, he remained a life-long Christian (even though it was in a new form).
As the author tries to link together the modern “secular-humanists” and even the “new-atheists” with their own religious roots and “moral” impulses, I wonder at what point that stops being helpful. Luther and other reformers (even radical ones) sought to re-invigorate or refocus or reform the faith tradition in which they stood. The modern notion of doubt and unbelief, in our contemporary time, has grown from that same base, but is now entirely something of its own.
Another critique or question that I have is to what degree the book’s central thesis will continue to be true as we move into the coming generations. This book gives a clear and compelling case for the way that modern doubt arises out of faith, especially the disappointments with the unfulfilled promise of the Church. However, in the future, there will be increasing numbers of people who are not reacting against the religion of their childhood or their family, but instead, who never had that kind of faith tradition to begin with. This is a change from a “post-Christian” stance to a “never-was-to-begin-with” position. Some of the “None’s” would fit under this category.
In the end, The Soul of Doubt is a challenging read for anyone in the church who would allow lazy thinking to simply let the “sacred versus secular” divide stand as stated. This book undermines that narrative and gives a much more nuanced view. At the same time, it is a challenge to those in the “secular” world, those who would judge or react to faith claims, because in the end, their work and their thoughts also often spring from a religious or moral basis.
Thinking again about that young man who visited my church on that Christmas Eve night, I wonder what he would make of a book like this. My prayer is that my congregation and the Church in general would be a place where a person like him, full of wrestling’s and doubts and ideals and ideas, could be embraced again, and discover that our faith is wider and deeper than he had previously been led to believe. Doubt, in the end, is a part of a healthy faith, not in opposition to it.
[1] Vincent P. Pecora, review of The Soul of Doubt, by Dominic Erdozain, The American Historical Review 122, no. 4 (October 1, 2017): 1300-1, https://academic.oup.com/ahr/article-abstract/122/4/1300/4320369 (accessed January 25, 2018).
[2] Dominic Erdozain, The Soul of Doubt (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 71.
[3] Dominic Erdozain, The Soul of Doubt (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 223.
[4] Dominic Erdozain, The Soul of Doubt (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 227.
[5] Dominic Erdozain, The Soul of Doubt (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 225.
About the Author
Dave Watermulder
7 responses to “From Within the Tradition”
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Hi Dave,
Yours was a captivating introduction. Well done!
Loved how you brought it full circle, and closed with, “My prayer is that my congregation and the Church in general would be a place where a person like him, full of wrestling’s and doubts and ideals and ideas, could be embraced again…”
That is my prayer as well–for every youth who has ventured away from the fellowship, for every addict who feels judged by the church, for every churchgoer who feels hurt by other churchgoer.
Let’s keep praying for that together!
Dave,
I believe that understanding doubt, rather than fearing it, was one of the reasons Erdozain wrote this text. I am also convinced that his idea that challenge comes from within will remain largely true into the future, even with more people belonging to the group that has never had a Christian faith experience. This is because without that upbringing critics don’t fully understand what it is they are criticizing. The best and most meaningful voices will always come from out own. As for that young man, I hope he continues to find people and places where he can question and doubt the faith of his youth so that he can eventually come to own it for himself.
Dave, I appreciate the personal connection with the young man who was raised in your church and the questions you raise about the future of the church regarding never before Christians. I wonder if the young man, like Luther, will have different eras of life where his perspective varies?
As for moving into the future, what do you see the church’s response being to the growing number of “nones” who question its relevance and value?
Great quote about Spinoza actually rescuing Christianity. I wonder why he is not a house hold name as much as some some of the other contemporaries. Good breakdown of Marx’s thought. Doubt indeed is a tool of faith. My question is, although perhaps too systematic, is what percent of faith does it take to be saved? If doubt is ok… then can I doubt 10% and be ok?
What if I only have 51% faith?
50%?
5%?
As small as a mustard seed, Kyle! 🙂
Dave,
I have had some of the same conversations with former youth of mine. One thing I have seen grow out of this is the fact they never made their relationship with Christ their own. As it is with most who are in similar positions. When the reason they went to church was because mom and dad made them, and they never connected with the church on a personal level there is a pretty good chance they were going to leave their “faith” and I am not sure they ever had it.
Your discussion on what it looks like in the future is one for consideration. What will it mean to the church going forward is a interesting thought to work through.
Like Kyle, I was drawn to this quote, “Spinoza was not trying to destroy Christian faith: he was trying to rescue it from historical corruptions.” It got me thinking of contemporary critics of the church. Can you think of any people today that are labeled outsiders that might have something important to say about christian internal doctrine or politics?