It seems almost inherent in the life of a convert--after the initial elation of conversion, they have gained an audience but lost steam, and struggle--publicly or privately--with either some theological teaching (if they are intellectually inclined) or some personal life issue that causes them to doubt and/or adjust their outlook or beliefs. The problem, my friend alluded to, was that many of these figures have people that read what they write and give it weight, and so the potential for leading people astray into false teaching. If you are a national writer with influence, you bear responsibility for your words, and would be naive to think people aren't listening to you. That, and it is also a cause for sorrow when anyone who was once faithful strays from the true faith into a self-made caricature of belief.
I am not much of a writer nor do I have any major influence outside of my circle of friends, but the thought of putting anything out there that has the potential to lead people astray or lead to heretical belief is terrifying to me. The words of Jesus in Mark 9:42 give stern warning, that "Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him if a great millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea."
So, I intentionally shy away from writing about anything beyond basic theology, and prefer instead to just relate stories and anecdotes, with an occasional extrapolation on a particular teaching of the church as it relates to my personal life of faith. I hope it's enjoyable, provides something to read and think about, and maybe sparks some curiosity.
But I am a convert myself, about twenty years in now, and so my friend's post hit a sensitive nerve for me. What if I hit a point in my life in which I go the same route? What's to keep me from doing so? What if I start writing heresy and not even realize it, or abandon church teaching because of some crisis of faith in my life?
It is not a unique problem. Early Church fathers and theologians like Tertullian and Origen were the 3rd century equivalent of those my friend was referring to in her post. Orthodox at one point, brilliant writers and minds, but at some point they went off the rails into heterodoxy. They never did attain sainthood, and so while their complex theological writing is quoted by other Fathers, it is also suspect. There is a place for complex, cutting-edge theology, but more often than not I shy away from it, especially if it is novel or esoteric for novelty's sake, since the spiritual benefits are not outweighed by the dangers of getting it wrong. I try to K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple, Silly) when writing about faith or theology, and leave the Big Thinkin' to the saints and doctors of the Church who have been vetted (Aquinas, Catherine of Siena, Alphonsus Liguori, etc).
A model for me at this point in my life are saints like Juan Diego, the Mexican peasant who encountered the Virgin of Guadalupe, and the three children of Fatima. They were not trained theologians, no lofty beliefs, just simple people who believed and obeyed God and lived good lives. They were not trying to make names for themselves or cultivate audiences, but lived in humility and delivered the messages they were entrusted with faithfully and to a 'T.' I have to believe such simple faithfulness is rewarded and pleases God. When we get into complex and potentially esoteric theology about the nature of God, we are outside the fence, so to speak, and thus make ourselves vulnerable to error with carries the weight of eternal consequences. Better to believe, pray, listen, and obey, than to speculate and pontificate and formulate when it holds the potential to go off the rails.
Please pray for me, friends, then I might be a simple story teller, a simple man, a simple Christian, a simple servant.
"So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty."
(Lk 17:10)
No comments:
Post a Comment