One man’s alienation is another man’s pilgrimage

It is an amazing gift to walk the same path as someone else, to aim at the same end in walking it with the same notion of how it ought to be traveled to meet that end, agreeing on what ought to be our attitude toward everything and everyone we encounter whether on or off the path. This is what is true of those who truly are in Christ, and I want to know my family in Christ. I’d even say my soul is starved to know them—these people who live towards the same ends and who are open to knowing new people intimately.

I don’t need a lot of folks whose opinions are like mine. If in a single day you argue the Christian positions with regards to the age of the earth, the authority or primacy of the Roman pontiff—or even justification by faith—I’m not convinced you’ll have done anything uniquely Christian at all. You may as well have argued about politics, or about sports. Far too many churches are organized around their ideas and, worse yet, their ideas are often ill-formed and frankly ugly. That’s not how families are organized and families will at the very least tolerate differences in opinion—so are blood relatives bound together more tightly and intimately than families in Christ?

When it comes to actually convincing someone of something that challenges their prior beliefs, I’ve found that a man can only convince those in his most intimate circles who have been given to his care; and in this case, not even blood relatives or the closest of friends will be open to what he has to say unless they’re already interested in believing him on the subject (or in general). But at least a blood relative is likely to tolerate it. If I were to try to introduce Christians to a new idea about anything at all, it would be considered almost besides the point of our being together. We’re here to be affirmed; we’re certainly not to go looking for something with you, little rabbit.

On the contrary, I believe this should be a Christian distinction: a pursuit of truth. In my experience, that sadly excludes most people in our churches. They have the truth, so what’s this pursuit business? Now, maybe if they trust someone to be their teacher, or if its their impression of him that he’s a reasonable or responsible person, then he’ll be heard and not just smiled at. In other words, for new or challenging ideas to be accepted, the speaker needs to be viewed as a credible authority, whether through knowledge, experience, or relational trust. In short, unless it’s a mathematical proof or something else that they can see for themselves, even Christian people will need a reason that goes beyond a shared interest in pursuing truth. What a shame.

Do I want my Christian brethren to be open to new opinions? Yes. Do I want them to be organized around anyone’s unquestionable opinions? No. The pursuit of truth is an orientation to the world that is oriented towards God who constantly corrects us by his unquestionable Word. That is our grounding. But there’s a second axiom I believe has been forgotten: Intellectual curiosity and openness to correction are signs of spiritual integrity and growth.

When our convictions differ from the norm, or from communal beliefs, it can create a profound sense of isolation—and Christians should not be so isolated from one another as this. It’s easy to wonder whether there really is any Christian difference or if modern secular psychology doesn’t in fact provide a more accurate and predictive lens through which to see individuals regardless of their religious claims about themselves. Like I said before, my soul is starved for real Christian community—and too many of our churches typically come together on the grounds that we find each other decently tolerable company insofar as polite distance is observed. We’ll smile when we see you Sunday, and maybe we can arrange something like a play date for the kids once in a blue moon when our schedules permit. Do social psychologists not have more to say about this than we do?

And yet - there is a silver lining to be found: this isolating experience can also be a pilgrimage toward deeper understanding of our unique connection with God as the only one who really knows us. Maybe God works it all for the good. Maybe one man’s alienation is another man’s pilgrimage.