I just read an article by societyvs, where he describes debating some Mormon missionaries who visited his house. His knowledge of Mormonism is most impressive, but I had to reply. I don’t normally copy from other people’s sites, but my reply to societyvs is most appropriate for my own site:
My dad is a Mormon of about 20 years. I must say that his beliefs drastically transformed his life. He turned from a real loser, hateful and just plain mean, to a man with real joy in his life. A real turnaround, that if he were a mainline Protestant I would attribute to nothing less than the sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit. Unfortunately, his turnaround is viewed by my church friends as a Satanic trick to fool us into thinking there was something really godly to his religion. *sigh* As a Christian, you bet I felt convicted to confront him about his wacky beliefs. We would each try to convert the other over the years, we knew how each other stood. But whenever this happened we just grew upset with each other. It has been many years trying to build our relationship, one that we never had, so trying to convert each other just tore that relationship down again. In the end, after several years of this, we just quit trying. I have grown to hate religious differences and trying to convince everyone that I am right. He is 1000% of the man he used to be without his beliefs, and that is what is important to me right now. This issue is another reason I have been questioning my own beliefs so much. Is dad REALLY going to hell for believing what he is convinced is true? For trying to make his life better? For using his beliefs to be a joyous man like he has never been before? Right now, I want dad to be happy, and I want to keep a relationship with him as he grows older. That is what is important to me. Does that make me a Pansy Christian who does not hate his own family over Jesus? I guess so.
I have the correct religion!
No, I have the correct religion!
You are both wrong, I have the correct religion!
God, I am just sick of all that. I hope God is happy that we fight over him so.
I will admit it, I hate this aspect of Fundamentalist Christianity. The Bible, at least the way the New Testament is taught in our churches, is absolutely unambiguous in this regard:
Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. – John 14:6 (NASB)
And Jesus came up and spoke to them, saying, “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” -Matt 26:18-20 (NASB)
And if we really believe this, we will share this news with the world. Because Jesus told us to. Because he is the only way. And I did witness with all the faithfulness and fervor that I could muster, because I believed it all. I would hang out at the bus depot and airport handing out Jack Chick tracts to strangers (this was the pre-9/11 world). I would pray outside bars and stripjoints, hoping to catch people as they walked outside and convince them of their sinful ways. I would tell my mother and father, brother and sister about the Jesus that I knew, our Savior who was the only way to our salvation. I would try to convince my mother, once a committed Christian and now a practical atheist, the error of her backsliding ways. I even got her to go to church with me a few times, but not before informing the pastor that I was bringing her and if he would not mind directing a word or two of his message her way. At work, I did my mightiest to live my witness for Jesus Christ. I prayed every morning that God give me the strength and the power of the Holy Spirit to witness to my friends. And I did every working day. Sometimes I would go to parties with my workmates, my strategy being that I could steer the conversation to the Gospel Message in a classic ‘bait and switch” maneuver. I went on Church Missions, usually to the inner city, but my most memorable to south Florida after Hurricane Andrew. Sure we helped clean up, repair what could be fixed, feed and comfort people. But again, in a classic bait and switch, we always presented the Gospel of Jesus Christ to these people. “The Hurricane has left you without hope? Jesus will give you your hope back!” Because that’s what it is all about, right? The destroyed houses are mere temporary things, but our souls are eternal. I invited homeless people into my own apartment, to feed them and witness to them. I liked them. They were usually my easiest converts.
I went through years of University work studying astrophysics. It was very difficult to be a witness for Jesus Christ in this setting, because everyone would reject the Bible’s claim for a young Earth and a 6 day creation. Trying to convince these scientists and PhD candidates to base their faith on a book that claimed a very young earth, a 6 day creation, talking donkeys, fiery chariots from heaven and a sun that occassionally stops in its tracks was absolutely impossible. I remember when Phillip Johnson came to speak at our campus. The question and answer period was very entertaining – the biology professors made absolute hash of his anti-evolutionary arguments. How could I continue to witness Jesus Christ in this context? I decided to live my witness. Everyone knew I was a born again Christian, but I did not go out of my way to proselytize. I soon discovered that ‘living a witness’ was a cop-out. I was acting like any other well-adjusted law abiding citizen. Living my witness meant being no better and no worse then anybody else.
When I left academic life I began actively witnessing again. Then I met the woman who would eventually be my wife. We started dating, and I soon discovered that she was Catholic. I needed some subtlety when witnessing to her, after all I kind of liked her and did not want her to think I was too much of a nut. I invited her to my Baptist Church, and she invited me to her Catholic. She told me about why she revered Mary, the Saints, what the mass meant, and everything else associated with mainline Catholicism. While I did not believe as she did, I learned to at least appreciate it. I told her about all my beliefs, and we tried and I think succeeded to see how our differing views could be compatible. After all, she still looked to Jesus as the only source for the forgiveness of sins, everything else is superfluous, right?
Then there was my Mormon dad, which I have already mentioned a bit of.
I am just exhausted from witnessing. I am exhausted and drained from believing that I and my small sect of Christian brethren have the exclusivity on truth and everyone else, no matter what their beliefs, are going to eternal torment. I am sick of believing that I am on the narrow path of righteousness, and my loved ones are on the wide path leading to destruction when in many cases, they are just simply much better people than I am. For most of them, it is not a matter of loving darkness rather than light as the Gospel of John claims. People believe what they believe from personal conviction and family tradition, or because they are not lead to by scientific, historical or philosophical arguments, or simply because their own particular, heretical beliefs lead them to lead fulfilled and productive lives. And yes, yes, I know what the Fundamentalist will reply at this point: “All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags” (Isaiah 64:6). Because Jesus is the only way, right?
Ever watch the movie Gandhi? I had never seen it before, and I rented it several months ago. I love what Ben Kingsley said near the end of the movie. India is being torn apart by Islamic and Hindu factions, and will eventually result in the formation of Pakistan. Towards the end of his life, Gandhi, who seems to have lived as Christ-like a life as any man who walked the face of the earth proclaimed, “I am HINDU! I am MUSLIM! I am CHRISTIAN! I am JEW!”, because he was sick of all the religious fighting. This was a universalist and even secular proclamation that we are one humanity, not religious divisions. That scene brought me to tears, because I am probably just as sick of it as he was. I lived the proselytizing life. I understand.
Yes yes, I know, Jesus said, “Do not think that I came to bring peace on the earth; I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Tough. I have witnessed the Gospel of Jesus Christ for most of my adult life, guilt-ridden because I was afraid all of humanity was lost in delusion and in their sins, and if I did not witness to them, they were eternally lost. I could not have real peace with that burden placed on me.
I am sick of that guilt, I am sick of that arrogance of exclusivity, I am sick of looking at our life as a trial from God to see if we believe the correct doctrines, and I refuse to accept it anymore. And if just letting people believe what they wish to believe means not being a real Christian, then so be it.