What I Used To Know

I used to know a lot.

I don’t mean like a lot of trivia (though I did know, and still do know, a fair amount of useless trivia that could help me in a pub trivia night.)

Did you know that Dr. Seuss invented the word “nerd?”

Now you do.

But I lived a large majority of my almost 40 years on this earth sure of what I knew.

Especially when it came to things of faith.

Part of that certainty was the result of growing up Evangelical in the ‘90s. If you weren’t certain about everything, you weren’t certain about anything, and that was a recipe for an eternity on the wrong side of the galactic divide.

Faith was a house of cards, and like a house of cards, if you pull even one card out, the whole thing comes toppling down. No matter how inconsequential that card seemed, it was vital to the integrity of the structure.

But as I’m approaching my 40th birthday, I’m doing a lot of self-reflecting.

A lot of thinking about the first half of my life.

And a lot of thinking about the second half.

So what did I used to know? Glad you asked.

I Used to Know That Evangelicalism was The Way

Again, I grew up a pastor’s kid.

In the ‘90s.

Full on McGee & Me, Psalty, DC Talk, VeggieTales, the whole nine yards. And for most of my life, it worked. Or at least I thought it worked.

Evangelicalism is appealing because it’s tribal. It offers belonging. It’s very easy to be “in.” As long as you don’t rock the boat too much, you’ve got a seat at the table.

And for someone with my propensity to people please, I desperately wanted to stay at the table.

Then 2019 happened (and I may write more on that at another time, but the short of it is, our evangelical house crumbled. The foundation didn’t just crack, it disintegrated. Turned to ash.

And along with it, nearly all (save for a couple of close friends) our entire support system.

The anxiety of being a ‘90s era evangelical pastor’s kid suddenly with no faith identity or “in” group to belong to was jarring to say the least.

Now I Know Evangelicalism is Dangerous

After having the privilege of joining a faith community that actively seeks to center the voices of the marginalized, I’ve come to see modern evangelicalism for what it really is.

A grasp at power.

So much of the “attack on Christianity” that you hear from the 24/7 news channels today is really just people who are used to having all of the power suddenly realizing that they may be losing their grip on that power.

And when you’ve lived a life of power, not having it feels like oppression.

I could write for days on the damage that evangelicalism has done to the marginalized, but for now, let’s just say that if Jesus were to show up in most of the evangelical churches today, he’d be asked to leave.

I Used to Know That I Needed People to Like Me

At my core, I’m a people pleaser.

I don't want to ruffle feathers, and I want people to like me, and at the root of all of that is a desire to be loved.

But I have spent far too long focused on whether or not people like me.

I’ve changed what I was eating in social settings, changed the kinds of music I listened to, and changed the way I dressed, all in a sad a desperate attempt to get people to like me, or at least to think that I belonged.

Now I Know That’s a Waste of Time

But as I push 40, I look back and wonder what the hell I spent so much time on?

Who cares if people like me?

I mean obviously I have friends that I’m close with, and I know that they like me, and that feels good.

But “trying” to impress people?

I’m over it.

There’s an old David Foster Wallace quote that I love.

“You will become way less concerned with what other people think of you when you realize how seldom they do.”

For real.

I Used to Know That I Had the Answers

This probably links back to being a pastor’s kid and feeling like I was under constant scrutiny.

But I had the answers.

And boy was I confident in those answers.

It didn't matter who you were, how much life experience you had, or what you had been through, I had the answers for whatever questions were thrown my way.

Now I Know That People with All the Answers are Annoying

Have you ever been in a conversation with someone and the entire time you’re talking to them, you can just tell that they’re not really listening?

They’re hearing what you’re saying, but they’re not actually listening to you?

They’re just waiting for their turn to talk?

Aren’t those people the worst? And they’re usually hyper-confident at whatever advice they’re about to dole out, and odds are that advice won’t be in any way relevant to your life or situation.

I’m growing more and more committed to not being that person.

To not being the straight white guy with all the answers.

But to being the person who spent the first half of their life convinced they knew everything, and wants to spend the second half of their life learning to embrace uncertainty and realizing that they don’t know anything.