Story of a Heretic

There was a time when I thought I should start every bible study a bit like an AA meeting. Except instead of saying, ‘Hi, I’m Liz and I’m an alcohol’ I should say, ‘Hi, I’m Liz and I’m a heretic.’

I do not have any great expertise when it comes to heresy. My only claim to knowledge is that I have a book titled ‘Medieval Heresy’, which has been sitting on my bookshelf for three years and I still haven’t found time to read. I do not really know what heresy is. When does something become heretical? Is there a difference between heresy and dissent? Are all Protestants automatically classed heretics? And do Protestants have people they think are heretics? (During that time I felt like a heretic, it was actually amongst Protestants.) Is there a boundary when an opinion crosses from ‘inaccurate’ to ‘heretical’? Or are any inaccurate opinions automatically deemed heresy?

So as you can see, I am not an expert. If you are looking for information on what heresy is and how it should be defined, press the back button on your browser. You’re not going to find it here.

But what I seem to have is a lot of thoughts about heresy and how heretics are treated. Recently, I was reading a blog post called Hildebrand on Schism, Heresy, Truth and Unity at Non Nobis. The post suggested that heretics would be better off leaving the Catholic Church. And there were some good points. But it also stirred up a lot of feelings about my own path. And how I have been treated and what I actually needed at the time.

Before I get to that, I should make one point clear. This post was talking about people within the Catholic Church. And I do realise, strictly speaking, that a heretic is someone who disagrees with the Catholic Church (not any of the multitude of other denominations around.) I guess if the way to define a heretic was as someone who disagreed with the church they were in, then you could simply find a church you didn’t disagree with and be a heretic no more.

However, my feelings about heresy and about being a heretic come from a time when I was not in the Catholic Church. And so I am going to talk about that time – even though it doesn’t really fit the proper definition of heresy. Well I did say I wasn’t an expert. Go back and read that part again and consider it my disclaimer.

Now I am not sure that I ever had any beliefs that would be considered heretical. (And this is where my lack of knowledge can be very limiting.) But I never denied Jesus’ resurrection of the dead. I always believed Jesus was fully God and fully human. Yet at the same time, I know I definitely considered some pretty heretical notions. And I did tend to say things that the people in my church did not like much at all.

And there were two ways that people generally dealt with this. They would either say, well if you believe that, you’re not a real Christian. End of conversation. Full-stop. It’s like they simply ticked me off their ‘people I want to talk to when I get to Heaven list’ and that was that. Not very helpful. In fact, often incredibly hurtful. To be honest, it still hurts. I wanted someone to help me, not simply dismiss me.

And the other response was just as unhelpful. Because that’s the whole ‘Well I disagree with you, but that’s okay’ approach. End of conversation. We just agree to disagree and everyone’s happy, right? But I wasn’t happy. I didn’t want someone to simply accept what I was saying. I wanted someone to show me why they disagreed with me. Have a discussion with me. Don’t just ignore the subject in case someone’s feelings get hurt. I’m a big girl. I can handle someone disagreeing with me.

That might sound contradictory. First I say that some people hurt me and their responses still hurts me. And then I say don’t spare my feelings. But see, there is a difference between having an honest conversation, where you actually talk to me and one where you simply shut the conversation down.

Maybe the whole problem comes from our approach to opinions or questions. If someone states an opinion, all we can do is either accept it, reject it or agree to disagree. If someone disagrees with us, we start focusing on how we can win the argument. If someone asks a question, we wonder how they’re trying to trick us. If I answer that the wrong way, will that mean that they’ve won the debate?

But sometimes people ask questions or state opinions from a sincere desire to open up the conversation. They don’t just want to tell other people what they think. They want to hear what others think. Especially if they’re searching. And the sad thing is that it’s often the searchers who are labelled heretics. But searchers realise they have not yet found the truth. That’s why they consider opinions that might be ‘funny’ or ‘strange’. That’s why they ask questions that make other people uncomfortable. They are looking, seeking desperately for something that makes sense.

And so often, they are opening doors – any door they can find – just hoping to find something, just trying desperately to get a little closer to the truth. But the problem is every time they open a door, someone wants to slam it back in their face. Either with a ‘You’re not a real Christian’ or ‘Don’t won’t to talk about this. It could become uncomfortable.’

Let’s be uncomfortable. Who says we have to be comfortable? I don’t recall Jesus saying pick up your comfy lounge chairs and follow me. We are to pick up a cross. And I believe, strongly, that any sincere search for the truth will involve quite a large degree of discomfort. People who are afraid of being uncomfortable should just give up the search altogether. Go back and lie in their ‘I’m okay, you’re okay’ feathered bed. And I know, from my own experience, I was never searching for a comfortable Christianity. If I was, it would not have taken nearly so long to find it.

I heard this quotation from Blaise Pascal on a podcast today:

There are only three types of people; those who have found God and serve him; those who have not found God and seek him, and those who live not seeking, or finding him. The first are rational and happy; the second unhappy and rational, and the third foolish and unhappy.

I don’t know how much of this post has been about heresy. Probably not too much. But maybe it was never really a post about heresy at all. Maybe it was just a post about my unhappy search for God. About conversations that never started and doors slammed in my face.

Sometimes I write because I have something I want to say. Sometimes I write because I hope my writing has something to say to me. And sometimes I write because I’m searching for answers and the computer screen is the only one who won't walk away