Yesterday at church, we had some visitors: an American
missionary to a nearby country and his wife. This missionary didn’t preach the
sermon, but he was invited to introduce himself and give a testimony. In his
testimony, he emphasized how God is able to open doors that people can’t close,
and close doors that people can’t open; God can do the impossible, and He can work
in impossible situations.
After service, we had a social time as we said farewell to a
couple who are going back to their native Norway. During this social time, the
visiting missionary chatted with different members of the congregation. At one
point, he approached Jeff and me.
As we engaged in the expected small talk, this missionary
revealed that his daughter is in college, attending a Christian university that
happens to be located in the same city as my own alma mater. I made him aware
of this common ground, and then the conversation got interesting.
“It’s too bad when organizations fall away from their
heritage of faith,” he said. You see, my alma mater used to be affiliated with
a Christian denomination, but they disaffiliated not long before I began
attending there. Although I’ve been a Christian since childhood and did
consider attending a Christian college, it never bothered me that the school I
had chosen was not a Christian school. I knew going in that the professors had
a reputation of being liberal, and that there was a liberal element among the
student population, but that most of the students were fairly religious and
conservative. I pointed out to our visiting missionary that, at least when I
attended the school, the students were pretty religious, although most of the
faculty were not.
The visiting missionary sighed and stated, “You shouldn’t
have to fight your professors for your faith.”
Now, I admit that my hackles were already raised. We’d been
having a pleasant conversation when he decided that it was appropriate to start
criticizing my alma mater, and by extension, those of us who had chosen to
study there after the disaffiliation. But this was the straw that broke the
camel’s back. I couldn’t explain it completely at the time—I understand it
better now that I’ve had some time to think about it—but I felt a strong urge
to contradict this missionary, and I chose not to fight the urge. So I shared
with him one fact about my college experience: “Actually, the one professor who
probably did the most to help me grow as a Christian was an atheist philosophy
professor.”
“You mean a Christian professor who taught atheist
philosophy?” (I expected him to be surprised, but I didn’t expect this—not only
did he not believe me, but it was so far out of his realm of belief that he
didn’t even understand me!)
“No, a philosophy professor who was an atheist. He helped me
grow as a Christian because he treated every philosophy we discussed the same
way: he challenged everything. He forced me to think about what I believed and
why I believed it. It wasn’t enough that I’d been taught something; I had to
think it through. He helped me make my faith my own instead of something that
was just passed down to me. He did more for me than any of my Christian
professors did.”
Then Jeff made a simple but profound statement: “It’s an
example of God using someone who would never, by his own choice, be available
to be used by God.” The disbelief on the missionary’s face gave way to chagrin—almost
disgust—before he made his polite excuses and turned away. I’m sure he was just
as upset with me as I was with him.
Throughout the afternoon, I replayed our encounter, trying
to determine exactly what it was that had gotten me so angry with this man and
why my respect for him had plummeted so fiercely. I finally realized what had
happened. It was a combination of factors.
I became irritated when he felt free to ignore the rules of
polite society and criticize choices that had nothing to do with him; I assume
that he felt justified because we both were Christians and therefore of course
I would lament the demise of Christian heritage just as he did—but he didn’t
know me well enough to realize that I did not view the disaffiliation as a loss
of Christian heritage so much as a recognition that the school had room for
more than one perspective and a belief that it was beneficial for students to
be exposed to more than one voice.
I became defensive when he acted as if young Christian
adults in America are somehow less than believers elsewhere in the world. After
all, he lives in a country where Christianity is banned and Christians risk
everything, but we shouldn’t have to fight our professors for our beliefs? What exactly does that mean—that our
professors shouldn’t challenge us, that we should be given a pass from critical
thinking because we’re Christians, that we shouldn’t be willing to deal with
the possibility of failing a class for our faith when believers in other parts
of the world may be killed for theirs? Even more telling, exactly how is it
that Christian students have to fight
their professors, when the students are the ones who chose to go to that school
and take those classes? Does the world owe
us a safe, Christian environment, whether we choose such an environment or not?
We are not entitled to an easy faith! Too many Americans choose an easy faith,
when struggling results in a faith that is deeper and more real.
I lost respect for him when I realized that he does not believe
that God is able to use an atheist professor to work in the life of a Christian
student. This man stood before the congregation and stated that God can open
doors no one can close, He can close doors no one can open, and He can work in
impossible situations. Yet his reaction to my statements about my professor
showed that he does not believe that God can work through an individual who
does not honor Him. This lack of faith in God’s power is unbecoming in one who
depends on that power so much in his own life and ministry.
I have no doubt that this man serves God to the best of his
ability. I have no doubt that he is doing God’s work in his host country. I am,
however, disappointed that he is so set on his own understanding of “The Truth”
that he ignores the realities that Christians can have different viewpoints; that
disaffiliation from a Christian denomination does not make a university less
than it was; that non-Christians have something to offer to Christians. After
all, American Christians are not exempt from Jesus’s statement that “in this
world you will have trouble” (John 16:33) and from His command to be “prepared
to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in
you” (1 Peter 3:15). It is true that too many young Christians “lose” their
faith while attending secular schools, but that isn’t because the schools didn’t
do right by the students—it’s because the students were not prepared for the
challenges that come with life outside of a Christian enclave. We are called to
be in the world but not of it (implied by John 17:14-17, when Jesus specifically
refrains from asking God to remove us); how can we function as Christians in
the world if our faith is not strong enough to withstand the world’s challenges?
The problem is not the universities; it is that the Christian young people who
fall away never made their faith their
own. Rather than behaving as if the world’s attacks on our faith are unfair
trials that we shouldn’t be expected to face, we should expect them, prepare
for them, even welcome them. Maybe then we’ll not only have fewer Christian
students falling away—we’ll have unbelieving students becoming believers!
Disclaimer:
Please do not misconstrue anything in this post as a
criticism of Christian schools. I do not question this man’s choice to send his
daughter to a Christian school; nor do I question her choice to go. There are
many good reasons to attend a Christian college. However, if your primary reason for choosing a Christian
school is that you do not believe that you can withstand the challenging of
your faith that you will experience in a secular school, please do yourself a
favor—spend your time at your Christian school strengthening your faith so that
it can withstand the challenges you will face in the real world. And if your
reason for attending a Christian school is that you do not believe that God can
work in your life in a secular environment, I suggest that you re-evaluate which
God you serve: the impotent god of your imagination, or the omnipotent God of
the Bible.
Comment take two ;-)
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry you had to deal with this :-( So not cool.
I did go to a Christian school and still had some of those advantages you mentioned... but it was a weird situation for me. Different denomination. It def made me stronger too... I still have issues with a few things they do there, but now that I've been out awhile I'm seeing more positives too lol.
Well said Deborah! Wish I had been there!
ReplyDeleteDeborah,
ReplyDeleteA friend of a friend was a pastor's wife. When I asked my friend how she was doing she said she had a new job at a Christian store. My friend told me she only wants to "work with other Christians". I told her it is easy to be a Christian surrounded by other Christians and that the test of our faith comes when we live in the real world.
Isn't it sad when Christians are unwilling to interact with the world at all? I understand needing Christian-only spaces, to rest and recuperate. I understand ensuring that one's closest friends are Christians, because our closest friends influence us so much. But to avoid the world entirely ... how are we supposed to be a light in the darkness if we run screaming from the darkness?!
ReplyDelete