There is part of the forum that's mainly used for people making prayer requests or asking questions about local churches-- that is, when it gets used at all. Mostly it sits fallow, because in general we'd rather bitch about housework or talk potty training.
See this? It might as well be a planter for all the use it's getting in my house.
But every so often someone would ask a meaty question—is being gay a sin? Do we have to take the Bible literally?—and there would be some awesome discussion. And several moms mentioned having been raised with a faith they’d lost, but sometimes missed.
There was a peak in activity on the forum for a bit, and I proposed that people come over and have some wine and talk about God. I set out some ground rules, most of them in order to comply with forum policy—there would be no attempts to save anyone, there would be no judgment, and anyone of any faith was welcome, though the expectation was that most of us would be Christian, either lapsed or practicing.
And you know what? I was jazzed about this. I wanted to facilitate a way for people not comfortable in church to still have a way to discuss matters of faith and doubt. And I had absolutely zero plans to secretly evangelize, but hey-- I wasn't going to stand outside my house and bar the Holy Spirit entry, you know what I'm saying?
I bought wine and snacks and picked up the toys in the living room. This was going to be great.
The first meeting was small—I think there were four of us—but we all went around and told a little about our faith journeys and our main doubts or questions or convictions. Then we took some time to discuss everything. There was an air of kindness, and of support, and it felt like a need was being met. We happily planned a second meeting.
The next time we met there were six of us. The mix looked something like this: a Unitarian, an Emergent Churcher, a former Catholic, two Episcopalians, and a Pentecostal. We talked about a ton of things—the importance of prayer (or not), attending church (or not), whether gay people should get married (or not). Family came up, and heaven and hell. Everyone was engaged and respectful and it was an awesome evening.
But then interest began to wane. Substantive activity online started to drop off. A few of us tried to keep it going, but our efforts tanked. I offered to host another evening, but there was little response. Basically, the whole notion kindled, burned brightly for a couple of evenings, and flickered out. That part of the forum is back to prayer requests and lists of vacation bible school, and that's not a bad thing. It's fulfilling the secondary role in that online community that it was always intended to fill.
Still, this depressed me. Partly this was because I was craving a way to reach others experiencing doubt. Reach them with what, exactly, I didn't know, but I wanted to understand in a person-to-person way others' difficulties in connecting with God. And, somewhat less nobly, I craved a group of friends with whom to broach these topics. I wasn't thinking we'd get all Summa Theologica or anything, but hey-- should someone have brought up the Bible or even just an interesting piece on CNN's Beliefnet, I wasn't going to stop them.
Then it all ended before it began, so I didn't get a chance to deploy my own selfish agenda. But those nights with those women in my house? Those nights of coming to know them where they stood, in all of their pain and strength and confusion (and also silliness and general awesomeness)? It was pretty incredible, really. I was sad when it ended.
I’m now part of another little online discussion group. It naturally fell together after a few theologically-minded geeks connected to my church started shooting the shit on Facebook. Some members are ordained, some hope to be, and some are just lay and faithful. Most of us, as one member puts it, are “over-educated and underpaid.” People propose topics or questions or post articles, and we talk about them.
I can’t even begin to describe how amazing it is for me, at this point in my journey, to be involved in something like this. Mostly it’s fun because also we meet in real life and drink and eat junk food, but really it’s important to me because all of us feel how vital it is that the Church change, somehow. We love this institution that Christ left here for us on earth, begun by his apostles and grown by the sweat of the faithful and the movement of the Holy Spirit. It’s how any real progress continues to be made.
Still-- I'm a little wistful. What would it be like to have a community as engaged in coming together through doubt instead of belief? How can the Church expand its mission to become a space for those sorts of questions? Most especially-- and this is something that I personally struggle with-- how can we validate questioning without watering down our beliefs and sliding into universalism?
I'm not sure yet. I'm going to continue to think about this, though. I spent a weekend with a friend a while back that made it imminently clear I have a lot of work to do when it comes to making a solid profession of faith in an atmosphere of religious pluralism. I want to be respectful, but I want to proclaim that truth of Christ, too.
I've got acres to learn, and a lot of work ahead of me, but quite frankly it's the best, most compelling work I can imagine. That is a conviction in which I have all faith and zero doubt at all.
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