My Long Farewell to Traditional Religion
(and What Remains)

I lost faith in a literal Bible. Although my church taught me to believe in an “inerrant and infallible” Bible, I wasn’t so sure. For example, the overwhelming violence in Scripture, including God-ordained genocide, deeply disturbed me. And many of the supernatural stories were a stretch for me to believe. I also noticed how badly women were treated in Scripture and was confounded by its complete acceptance of slavery. By my early twenties I could no longer believe (with any integrity) in a literal Bible, which brought me a boatload of trouble in the SBC. [For further reflections about losing faith in a literal Bible, see For the Bible Tells Me So? ]

I lost faith in the evangelical church. My early ministerial years in the Southern Baptist Convention felt overshadowed by the relentless and ruthless fundamentalist takeover of the denomination. In the end I lost faith not only in the SBC but also in the entire evangelical enterprise. I came to the difficult conclusion that I could no longer participate in a religious tradition that was (at least in part) anti-women, anti-reason, anti-science, antigay, anti-ecumenical, mean-spirited, arrogant, judgmental, angry, racist, and highly partisan. Although it was painful to forfeit the many benefits I enjoyed (big-steeple churches, significant publishing venues, and a high-status national denominational position), I left the evangelical world and transferred to a more progressive tradition. [For further reflections about losing faith in the evangelical church, see Why I Left Conservative Evangelicalism and The Toxic Evangelical Variant. ]

I lost faith in traditional doctrines. For decades I struggled with numerous orthodox beliefs. For example, I simply could not believe that God eternally torments people in the flames of hell for holding erroneous beliefs. Or that non-Christian and nonreligious people have no hope in this life or the next. Or that God required a violent and bloody sacrifice of God’s Son in order to forgive sins. Although I often recited the Apostles’ Creed in worship on Sunday mornings, I had severe doubts about many of the affirmations. Given this growing list of doctrinal doubts, I began to wonder about my future as a clergyperson. [For further reflections about losing faith in traditional doctrines, see On Losing and Keeping Faith, The Benefit of the Doubt, The Night I Stopped Believing in Substitutionary Blood Atonement, and It’s (Past) Time to Raze Hell. ]

I lost faith in the providence of God. After years of watching members of my congregations suffer from awful diseases like cancer, ALS, and dementia; and burying a significant number of children, youth, and young adults; and observing enormous worldwide suffering every day in the news, I experienced the death of providence. It became clear to me that in a universe of overwhelming and brutal suffering (both in the natural world and in human history), God does not providentially care for creation in any traditional sense. Losing faith in a literal Bible, the evangelical church, and numerous doctrines had been difficult for me (although liberating). But losing faith in the providential care of God felt spiritually devastating, both personally and professionally, and I never fully recovered. [For further reflections about losing faith in providence, see Providence and the Pandemic. ]

I lost faith in institutional religion. Over time I realized that my frustration with organized religion was bigger than my disgust with the evangelical church. I came to see that every branch of Christianity (evangelical, mainline, Catholic, and Orthodox), including my own United Methodist Church, was toxic and dysfunctional in massive ways, perhaps beyond redemption. I experienced this on a personal level when I pastored a cruel and abusive megachurch that killed my vocational joy. But I also saw rampant ecclesiastical toxicity everywhere I looked, both historically and currently. I finally admitted to myself the painful truth—the church of Jesus Christ (past and present) has miserably failed to live up to its ideals. Clearly, the church as we know it is not what Jesus intended. At that point in my journey, I had severe doubts about my future participation in such a deeply broken and flawed institution. [For further reflections about losing faith in institutional religion, see What to Do about Church?, Leaving Church?, The Self-Destructive American Church, Retired from Religion, Jesus-less Christianity, and Church on Fire. ]

I lost faith in a traditional God. Historic Christianity believes in a personal, loving, supernatural, trinitarian, all-knowing, all-powerful, all-present heavenly Father who supernaturally intervenes in the world, answers prayers, and performs miracles. It also believes in a divine Christ who preexisted before creation, was born of a virgin, performed mighty miracles, died for our sins, physically rose from the dead, established the church, ascended into the sky, will come again one day to end the age, send people to heaven or hell, and then return to his heavenly throne seated at the right hand of God where true believers will eternally worship him.

By my early sixties many of these traditional doctrines about God and Christ became impossible for me to believe. At that point I knew my shelf life as a clergyperson had come to an end, and I grieved the loss of both my faith and my vocation. Some clergy successfully navigate similar waters without leaving ministry, and I do not judge them. But for me, continuing to serve a traditional church without affirming its belief system felt incongruent and disingenuous. So, several months later, I took early retirement and departed vocational ministry. [For further reflections about losing faith in a traditional God see God Is No Longer a Working Number: Rethinking Christianity in the Twenty-First Century, Orthodox No Longer, Three Possible Paths for People Who Lose Traditional Religion, and An Inconvenient Loss of Faith: A Theological Novel. ]