I Apologize for Thinking Independently

I have questioned my pastor on several occasions. I have not done this publicly such as in the middle of a service or large business meeting. But, he and I have agreed to disagree on certain issues where we have very different perspectives and opinions, not necessarily about our faith but it can include issues related to Christianity such as interpretation of the Bible (literal vs. figurative/historical, etc.) and other issues.

I have not attended a church in years (convenient as I no longer believe in any of the stuff I was taught as a child), but I have many friends and family who do.

In the churches that I am familiar with, it is openly known that many in the congregation disagree with the clergy, no secret is made of it. However, I know of no cases where this has led to confrontations with the clergy over these disagreements.

Although it’s probably not the sort of example that you were looking for, the current schisms in the Episcopalian church are due ot people confronting both the clergy and hierarchy when they disagree – of course, this is because they feel that the clergy and hierarchy are not relying enough on mindless dogma, so probably not quite what you were asking about.

I used to disagree with my youth pastors in high school rather frequently — but only because their theology didn’t match my mom’s. Since she had a master’s degree in Theology, she was frequently openly the voice of dissent in her churches, which caused her to switch churches every couple years.

Come to think of it, my mom’s independent approach to theology and my desire to emulate that independent streak might have had something to do with my eventual distancing myself from Christianity.

Protestant congregations are constantly splitting up and reforming.

Our church (if I can still say that) broke up when I was a kid, I believe. The other church is exactly across the street. They are literally less than 100 yards apart spatially, while the animosity used to set them worlds apart.

It was a long, long time ago. About 1961, I think. I was 16 at the time. As a child I had been forced to go to Sunday school and Church at the local Methodist thing in small town Tennessee. The force was the implied, and often articulated threat of physical violence from my family. Note that they never went. On a warm spring day I said that I was not going to church that day.

My uncle Peter had heard me make the statement before and pretty much had had enough of it and he was going to deliver on his oft made threat of violence. He came at me fists clenched. I was ready. A quick jab followed by a strong right hand set him on his ass, stunned. I told him if he got up I was going to put him in the hospital for a week. I made him sit there, in front of family for half an hour.

That was the last time anybody in the family ever mentioned me going to church ever again. The incident is never talked about. Peter is gone now, but when I was about 30, he called me aside and sort of congratulated me for standing up for myself. We remained at least cordial to his death.

I never confronted the hell-fire and damnation preacher. Right, Methodists don’t ordinarily do hell-fire and damnation, but this one did. My solution to the church was simply walk away. There was nothing to be accomplished by confronting him. Even then I knew that you cannot try and teach a pig to sing. It wastes your time and it bothers the pig.

I’ve not been in a church since. I’ll not likely ever go again either.

Wow, nice comments. And the stories! I’m a pastor of a church. My experience with pastors being questioned, by me, has been largely negative. And to admit it, as a pastor, it is a challenge to invite and embrace diversity of thought within one community. But if you believe in unity with diversity rather than homogeneity, then you have no choice. And it makes for a richer community when this works. Thanks for showing my cartoon.

I grew up in a UMC, and one of the two youth leaders was a hellfire-and-brimstone sort in training. (The other was your typical Methodist sort.) Anyway, they do exist, just not in number. There are Methodist churches everywhere, so a Methodist who doesn’t fit can usually find a Baptist or Reformed or Screaming Fundie congregation where he’s more at home.

Anyway, I’d say, and I imagine there are a lot of other atheists out there who’d have the same experience, that my open disagreements were basically the last stage before my leaving. (Well, not really. I wasn’t allowed to leave until I was out of the house. But my mental leaving of the church happened shortly after a series of disagreements with the pastor.)

There can be a surprising amount of bickering between pastors and their congregations. I’ve never personally seen it over theology though (although I know it does happen). Most of the drama seems to be generated over differences in how the church is run.

One of the churches I grew up in actually ceased to exist after a bunch of people left because they didn’t along with the pastor (she could be a very unpleasant person to work with)

When I was in my early teens my mother switched us from a Presbeyterian church to a Baptist church (New Jersey cuddly baptist, not weirdo southern baptist). As far as I could tell they were pretty much the same in every way as the old church except one: they wouldn’t let the children take communion. It’s that whole baptized as an adult thing.

I told the pastor that this wasn’t fair and didn’t make any sense. First of all the previous church let me take communion. If we’re all Christians then what’s the difference? Secondly I quoted the new testament passage about the adults who wouldn’t let the little children “come unto me” (only now to I see the creepiness in that story, but I digress). I told the pastor that his preventing me from taking the communion was just as bad as those people in the bible keeping kids away from Mr. Jesus.

He allowed me to take communion. So maybe it was OK from his point of view because I had already at least been baptized as a baby, but I still count it as a victory. I was never that strong in my faith, it was the principle of the thing.

It was only a couple years later that I stopped going to church entirely. I suppose what I really learned from that confrontation was that I COULD question not only the authority figures, but the logic of the whole religion. And another Atheist was born!

Fortunately, when I was in high school and especially now that I’m in college, I’ve had pretty good people, including my youth pastor, to discuss and form my theology with.

However, the current pastor of the church of my high school years told me that if I kept thinking the way I was thinking, I was going to end up in hell one day after reading a paper I wrote on the book of Daniel. I basicially said that the first six chapters of Daniel are myth/metaphors and that the last six were prophecy recorded after the fact up until about the death of Antiochus IV Epiphanies. At that point, it “predicts” his death happening in the wrong location and by the wrong causes.

It just goes to show you, Liberal theology will scare the hell out of a fundie any day and because it does, they’ll try to condemn to a place that has very fuzzy connections in the Hebrew and Christian Bible.

Sure. There was this one time I got eviscerated for doing an interview with a friendly atheist at my church. Glad I still have my job. 🙂

I grew up AOG, Vineyard and Four Square, and from my limited experience questioning one’s pastor was not looked kindly upon. Asking scriptural questions regarding interpretation was one thing, but outright challenging the dogma– however politely– would get a person snubbed. Worse yet, labeled “backslider/lukewarm.”

It took me a total of about 10 years (long, long ago; been labelling myself Atheist 22 years and Agnostic 4 before that) to break free of my childhood indoctrination and I stopped believing Jesus was the Messiah before I stopped believing altogether.

The reason I bring this up:

My short answer — no, wouldn’t have dreamed of it or dared. Dreamed of because their word was sacred; dared because you are not supposed to question.

I damned near converted to Judaism once upon a time in my foolish youth and my first Sabbath in a synagogue instead of Sunday in a church, my jaw damned near dropped to the floor when congregants would interrupt the sermon with a quiet but rabbi and ask a critical question. And the rabbi? He loved it. He ate it up and answered them politely and respectfully. He was pleased they were paying close attention and thinking about what he said.

Something incomprehensible in the Protestant churches I grew up in where you were just supposed to listen and quake in fear for being such a sinner.

That said it was a Conservative temple I went to, not an Orthodox. Men and women sat together and everything.

Fortunately, I didn’t go through with the conversion and me, my daughter and grandson are not Jewish according to Judaic law.

Autumnal Harvest, I didn’t catch it, but you’re welcome.