Happy Anniversary, Heretics!

looking back & looking forward, PLUS your fav posts of the year

Actual photo of me preaching 3 weeks ago, courtesy of Ryan Strange.

We’re taking a break from our regularly scheduled programming to reflect on the past year at Heretic Hereafter. I started this project one year ago this week, with the post, “Towards a Theology of Wholeness.” In it, I talked about my cradle-to-early-thirties Christianity, a Christianity which offered comfort but also felt like a performance. I craved authenticity and belonging, I wanted to walk a path that allowed space to process the hard things: doubt, anger, disagreement. I wrote then:

I want a spirituality that affirms who I am—but when love and shame are so tightly intertwined, separating the good from the bad feels nearly impossible.

A year ago I could barely make it through a church service without bursting into tears. Three weeks ago I actually preached in a church?! (On Job and suffering—very on-brand.) How the hell did that happen? I can see three different things that had to happen:

• At an intellectual level. Learning about the history of purity culture and how various philosophers have dealt with the problem of suffering helped me escape the constraints of Christian fundamentalist black-and-white thinking. Understanding that someone can disagree with church teachings and still be deeply moral or that these teachings themselves don’t come out of a vacuum was deeply liberating.

• Self-work. I cried in church and I cried while journaling and I cried with my camera off in Zoom meetings. I had to grieve for that little kid who thought the only way she could be loved was to be obedient to authority, even if it meant betraying herself. Even now, I have to check my impulse to please others no matter the personal costs.

• Taking the very scary first steps towards rejoining a community. That meant being honest about my experiences and my feelings. And the crazy thing is, the more I’ve put myself out there, the more I’ve come to find out I’m not alone. I’ve read dozens of books, interviewed nearly that many experts and influencers, and discussed all these issues with you all in the comments. One takeaway from these conversations is that we’re not alone in feeling complicated and confused about spirituality. The church is certainly due for some serious reformation. Maybe it’s already underway.

So, a year later, am I any closer to sorting this stuff out? I think so. After so many years of spiritual turmoil, it feels foolish to claim I have any sort of answers, but I can say that I’ve processed a lot this year. Writing about this stuff week after week has been both exhausting and actually helped me sort through my thoughts and feelings regarding my former Christianity and move towards a new spirituality.

What does that spirituality look like? It’s a lot less black-and-white. It means acknowledging there are many paths towards living a moral life, and many ways to connect with God/the divine/a sense of something greater than oneself. One of the sayings I picked up in my 12-step group is, “There is a god, and you are not it.” It helps me to remember that I don’t need to run around trying to be in control of the universe.

Despite everything (and the word “everything” is doing a lot of work here) I still feel drawn to Christianity. Maybe it’s just part of my DNA at this point. While I have a lot of issues with traditional church teachings, I’m working to redeem the stories and verses that have been weaponized. One of these aha moments was listening to a podcast (I *think* it was “Reclaiming my Theology”?) and the host talked about Matthew 5:48, which I’d always heard translated as “Be perfect as your father in heaven is perfect.” This verse was one I often used to beat myself up with. But this host talked about that word, “perfect” not as being free from ever making mistakes, but rather as analogous to “whole” or “complete.”*

When I think about what I want for my kids, it’s for them to be wholly themselves in the world; to explore their gifts and to rely on the community to help them in their weaknesses. It’s not to become some person who never screws up and doesn’t need anyone. When I think of God, I try to channel the voice of a loving parent, how they would advise, affirm, or gently correct me as needed, so that I can grow not into some mistake-free church clone, but into my full Katy-ness.

Can I recite the Apostle’s Creed without flinching or proclaim that I believe every word of the Bible? No. But after a year, those things feel less important.

How has your spirituality evolved in recent year(s), if it has? How would like it evolve in the future? Feel free to share in the comments, so we can learn from each other.

Do you have a friend who’s going through it, spiritually? Why not share this post?

Bonus Materials:

Top Posts of the Year by Views:

• “Finding God at the Drag Show”

• “Constructing a New Sexual Ethic”

• “Is Mindfulness Really the Answer?”

• “A Roadmap for Processing Religious Trauma”

• “An Apostate Tries to Pray”

  and the number one post of the past year….

• “The Extreme Weirdness of Trying to Buy a Bible for My Kids”

*from Barnes’ Notes on the Bible: “This word commonly means "finished, complete, pure, holy." Originally, it is applied to a piece of mechanism, as a machine that is complete in its parts. Applied to people, it refers to completeness of parts, or perfection, where no part is defective or wanting. Thus, Job (Obadiah 1:1) is said to be "perfect;" that is, not holy as God, or "sinless" - for fault is afterward found with him Job 9:20; Job 42:6; but his piety was "proportionate" - had a completeness of parts was consistent and regular. He exhibited his religion as a prince, a father, an individual, a benefactor of the poor. He was not merely a pious man in one place, but uniformly. He was consistent everywhere.”