Chris​Hubbs​.com

It’s been a while since I’ve linked a Richard Beck post, but man oh man does he nail it today with his observations about young, aggressive converts to Orthodoxy and Catholicism. (I’d venture that in previous years we could’ve said this about “cage stage” Calvinist/Presbyterian converts, too.)

A lot of the negative and aggressive energy inserted into these debates is from men who have become recent converts to Orthodoxy. You might be aware of this trend and it’s impact upon Christian social media. The main take of these Orthodox converts is that every branch of Christianity, from Catholics to evangelicals, is a theological failure. Heretical, even. Only Orthodoxy preserves the one true faith.

This conceit, however, isn’t limited to the very online Orthodox. There are also aggressive Catholics who denigrate Protestantism. And in response to these Orthodox and Catholic attacks, there have arisen aggressive Protestant defenders.

Here’s my hot take. I think many of these loud and aggressive converts are more in love with Christianity than they are with Christ. They love the creeds, the church fathers, the liturgy, the saints, the history, the culture of Christendom, the doctrine, the dogma, the theology, the Tradition. What they don’t seem to love very much is Jesus, as evidenced in their becoming belligerent social media trolls.

But where does the vitriol come from? Beck says it’s “fear, plain and simple”. I think he’s right on this, too.

This is one reason we’re seeing so many young men gravitate away from evangelicalism toward Orthodoxy and Catholicism. As sola scriptura Protestants these young men were raised as epistemic foundationalists. In standing on Scripture they stood on a firm, solid, and unshakeable foundation of Truth. The Bible provided them with every answer to every question. Epistemically, they were bulletproof. They were right and everyone who disagreed with them was wrong. This certainty provided existential comfort and consolation. Dogmatism was a security blanket.

Then they went off to seminary or down some YouTube rabbit hole and discovered that “Scripture alone” was hermeneutical quicksand. Suddenly, the edifice of security began to crumble. Where to turn? Where to find a firm and unassailable foundation? The Tradition! One type of foundationalism (the Bible alone) was exchanged for another (the Tradition). In both cases, the evangelical need for bulletproof certainty remained a constant. There has to be some “correct” place to land in the ecclesial landscape. It’s utopianism in theological dress. But the underlying anxiety curdles the quest. Especially if, once the “one true church” is found, the old evangelical hostility and judgmentalism toward out-group members resurfaces. The underlying neurotic dynamic is carried over. Fundamentalism is merely rearranged. In order to feel secure and safe I need to scapegoat outsiders. Their damnation is proof of my salvation, their heresy confirms my orthodoxy.

Yes to all this. One of the big challenges I’ve found myself facing as I left evangelicalism and joined the Episcopal church is to be ok with the uncertainty; to accept that each tradition has its own foibles and messes. Another Beck post more than seven years ago prompted me to write (among other things) that even the most erudite theologian must be wrong on at least 5-10% of their theology. And if so, then certainty of “rightness” as the (usually unacknowledged) base of my security of salvation is inherently shaky ground.

All these years later I am more convinced than ever that the “conversion” I need isn’t from one denomination or tradition to another, but a conversion from a confidence rooted in my own belief’s rightness to a confidence rooted in God’s love for me and evidenced by my love for Jesus and my neighbor.