Goodbye To All That

Leaving a fundamentalist church is like escaping an abusive relationship. You try to justify it while you’re in it, and you don’t realize how bad it is till you’re out of it.

Christian fundamentalism started out with good intentions. A hundred years ago many liberal theologians (mostly out of Europe) were openly challenging the basic tenets of Christian orthodoxy. Many of their teachings were heretical. A group of conservative Christians, therefore, decided to outline and define themselves by “the fundamentals”: basic teachings to which all true Christians must subscribe in order to call themselves Christians. These included the deity of Christ, the resurrection of Christ, salvation by grace, and the inerrancy of Scripture. So far, so good.

But like so many well-meaning movements in history, Christian fundamentalism was hijacked by men who lost sight of the movement’s raison d’etre. They began adding things to the list of “fundamentals.” Four or five bedrock principles suddenly became hundreds of new laws—most of which weren’t even found in Scripture. Like the Pharisees before them, they added countless letters to the law, but rejected the spirit of it.

Before long, people were judged not by their metaphysical relationship with Christ, but by their external conformity to these man-made laws. In fundamentalism, one’s righteousness can easily be determined by eyesight. For example, if you wear sandals and a long beard and don’t shower regularly, your salvation is questionable at best.

See any problems with that? I do. It describes John the Baptist, one of the most righteous and faithful men in history.

Fundamentalists tend to attack the appearance of sin rather than sin itself. Rather than addressing the problem of addiction, for example, they find it easier to shun those whose appearance might suggest a proclivity toward substance abuse. To attack the root sin itself would require an aggressive engagement with the outside world—something fundamentalists could never tolerate. You see, rubbing elbows with those who appear to be sinners condemns you to the appearance of sin, as well. They would wince at Christ talking to prostitutes, adulterers, lunatics and thieves. Their man-made laws force them into a monastic existence and they often create “safe zones” for themselves within their own networks from cradle to grave.

These are some actual “laws” we have been taught in fundamentalist churches:

--A man’s hair should not touch his ears or his collar.
--A woman should not wear short hair because prostitutes in Bible times wore short hair. (Never mind that most prostitutes today have long hair).

--Facial hair is unrighteous. (Ooh--even our Savior doesn't make the cut).
--Women should not wear pants. (No word yet on whether men can wear skirts as they did in Bible times).
--A woman should not wear any top that creates a “shadow” (cleavage) in the center of her chest. (Never mind that some women could wear turtleneck alpaca sweaters and by heredity or obesity still have a “shadow”).
--Hollow-bodied guitars may be played in church, but solid-bodied guitars may not.
--Any music with a drumbeat is ungodly. (The actual lyrics are less relevant).

You get the point. None of these “laws” are found in Scripture. Like the Pharisees, they are “teaching for doctrine the commandments of men” (Matt. 15: 9).

This pastor has an excellent series renouncing modern fundamentalism. I would encourage you to read it. He is a graduate of Bob Jones University—the bastion of Pharisaical fundamentalism--but he saw the light and escaped "the Matrix," as he calls it. All of the above “laws,” incidentally, were taught to us by Bob Jones graduates.

Paul said, “All things are lawful unto me, but all things are not expedient: all things are lawful for me, but I will not be brought under the power of any” (I Cor. 6: 12). If Christians can keep their eyes on Christ rather than men, they can steer their consciences through all the minutiae of “doubtful things” and not succumb to any fundamentalist checklist of righteousness.