Questions, Doubts, and Rachel Held Evans
Sierra White asked a thought-provoking question today on twitter: “What if Evangelicalism is right!? What if my beliefs on hell, LGBTQ+ equality, salvation, God’s love, and women’s equality are too good to be true and I’m wrong!?”
Like Sierra White, I have grappled with similar questions: “what if I got God all wrong? What if the God that I preach-a God of liberation and justice, of inclusive and radical love, is wrong? What if God is much crueler than I imagined, with a weaker and much more limited ability to love? What if God, instead of being a savior, is in fact an oppressive monster?”
My answer to these questions is simple: I want nothing to do with that God. I would rather spend an eternity in hellfire than spend an eternity with such a god.
I will be frank, the “gospel” that some Christians preach is anything but good news. The God that some Christians adhere to is one that embraces white supremacy and American exceptionalism, that tells LGBTQ+ members that who they are, at their core, is sinful. This God has no qualms condemning to hell large swaths of people, for the simple “sin” of not accepting Christianity-or rather not accepting an extremely narrow and limited form of Christianity. The God that some Christians preach is volatile and vicious.
I want nothing to do with a God that views certain categories of human being as “less than” and worthy of eternal hellfire simply because of who they are and who they are attracted to. Or because they don’t believe the “Truth” as defined by one segment of Christianity.
The voices of Christians who hold onto such a narrow vicious God ring loudly. Whenever I turn on the TV or read an article about American Christianity, it is these voices that take center stage. The image of God that seems to be espoused by the loudest voices in Christianity is one of violence and oppression. This is why I understand when people leave Christianity. This is why I have no desire to “convert” people to Christianity. For too many people, the God of Christianity has been one of hatred and oppression instead of love and liberation.
Yet when I have felt like walking away from Christianity, I have heard the whispers of other voices who insist on presenting an alternative image of God. One such voice, is that of Rachel Held Evans (1981-2019). Pete Enns, in his tribute to RHE points out why she met so much to so many people, including those, like me who never met her but read her words:
“Rachel would wind up meaning so much to so many, and if I had to name the reason why, it would be this: the way that Rachel spoke of God. The God she was pursuing (though now no longer needing to pursue), is the God of liberating hope, uncompromising justice for all, and compassion for us in our struggles and doubts.”
Rachel Held Evans spoke of a God that loved deeply and radically. She spoke of a God that not only loved those on the margins but advocated for them. She preached the “Good News” that God’s love is not limited. And she did so in a way that invited conversation. I admit that I am an abrasive person. I will give you my opinion whether you ask for it or not and I do not always do it in ways that invite conversation. RHE spoke passionately about justice and had no qualms debating/talking with those who disagreed with her. But she never forgot that those she was debating were also Children of God. She preached a God of love and tried to publicly live out that belief in her interactions with others.
I remember reading the #prayforRHE hashtag on twitter. And while there were some using that hashtag to condemn RHE and claim she needed to “convert” before she died, there were many others from across the theological spectrum who came together to pray for her and her family and friends. There were many people who were honest and said they disagreed with her and yet who mourned the loss of her and her voice.
RHE also described her own long journey of faith. And by doing so, she gave permission to others to embrace change. I know that sounds weird. But for some forms of Christianity, not changing is a badge of courage. Having all of the answers is a demonstration of one’s superior faith. And let me be clear this resistance to change and admitting that one might be wrong is not limited to Evangelical Christianity. Progressive Christians struggle with this as well. (shyly raises my hand) But RHE described a God that accompanies us on our journeys as we wrestle with our questions and doubts. This God is not afraid of change. Nor does this God expect us to have all the answers. RHE admitted she did not have the answers. She publicly wrestled with Scripture and with what it means to be a person of faith that cares deeply about justice. She also admitted when she got it wrong.
In a 2016 blog post RHE wrote: “I thought I was called to challenge the atheists, but the atheists ended up challenging me. I thought God wanted to use me to show gay people how to be straight. Instead God used gay people to show me how to be Christian. I thought the world needed my answers, but as it turns out, I needed the world’s questions. I needed to learn how to doubt well, listen better, and be humbled by how little I know. I needed to discover that evangelicalism is just one table in Christ’s banquet hall, the Great Cloud of Witnesses far more sprawling and diverse than I’d ever imagined. . . ."
RHE gave me the courage and freedom to dare to believe that God is so much bigger and more loving than I could ever imagine. So yes, while I still struggle with, “what if I’m wrong? What if those that preach a God that despises the LGBTQ+ community, that condemn non-Christians to hell are right?” I remember that there are other voices within Christianity that insist that God’s love is radically inclusive. I think about Rachel Held Evans and the God she described. And if boldly preaching a God that loves all, that embraces our questions, that advocates for the marginalized community is wrong, then I am more than willing to be wrong.
