10 - Summit

I had hope that it would all blow over in a few months. I had hope that I would return to Christianity, with my questions answered. Several times, I actually caught myself beginning speeches in my mind, about how I had realized that Christianity was the one true religion.

I had heard that speech for my entire life, and I could picture myself giving it one day, in spite of the fact that my questions had only become deeper.

So when Bible Club elections rolled around, I ran for Vice President. “My doubts should be gone by the end of the summer,” I thought. “When I get to Summit, I'll meet people who are going through exactly what I'm experiencing, and they'll know what to say.” I won the Bible Club election, and I felt sure that I would be sharing my testimony in fall semester (my testimony would be about how I had searched for the truth in other religions, but could only find it in Christianity).

“At Summit, I’ll get some answers to my questions,” I thought, and those questions referred to things like "divine authority of Scripture" and "the exclusive correctness of Christianity among world religions." They were big questions, but I had big hopes.

Unlike most summer camps, Summit Ministries involves mandatory lectures and reading assignments. It’s a little like a miniature seminary, and I was thrilled about going there.

We were welcomed by Dr. David Noebel, the founder, and after a brief speech, he showed us a music video. Carmin, a well-known Christian Artist, was singing about reclaiming America for Christ while standing in front of flags and government buildings. To Carmin, this involved things like "getting prayer back into public schools." He called public schools "battle grounds," and he was referring to school shootings. After two years out of private school, I had nearly forgotten that people felt this way. My prayer life had never been stronger than it was during my first year of public school.

In many ways, the music video set a tone for my experience at Summit. Of the various lecturers, some were less propagandistic than others, but the overall theme was simple: All world religions are incomplete, except for Bible-based Christianity. It was the same message I had heard for my entire life. It was the message that I had embraced wholeheartedly as a child, the message that had left me desperate for something more. There was no new twist on the message. It was proud and firmly planted in its own perspective, the right perspective.

I looked around at all the healthy attractive young people there, and I wondered if they heard what I was hearing.

We learned about the strengths of Modernism, Creationism and Capitalism, and the flaws of their counterparts (Postmodernism, Evolution and Socialism). I felt convinced of the strengths and convinced of the flaws, but I wondered if there was something they hadn't told us.

I expressed interest in hearing a lecture from someone who wasn't already Christian. I wanted to know if they might say about what we were learning. Noebel responded by saying that for our entire lives, we'd been bombarded by nonchristian ideologies. Summit was time for the Good Guys to fight back.

Again, I looked at the people around me. I knew that 90% had been raised in a good Christian home, that many had gone to Christian schools. A large proportion was from the South, and nearly all of them were white. They were just like me.

I had lived my life in the Church, hearing Truth preached straight from the Bible. I'd been to conferences and camps and retreats and Bible Studies, taking leadership roles throughout. I'd fasted and prayed and sought after the truth, trying to discern the Scriptures.

It wasn't enough anymore, to listen to people tell me about how my beliefs were fine, and just needed tweaking. It wasn't enough to hear testimonies of people who had converted to my religion, without hearing also from people who had left it. It wasn't enough to learn about the merits and flaws of nonchristian ideas, as taught from within the church.

I did two things.
1) I decided to tell more people about my questioning. Mitchell tried to get me to explain myself further, but I really didn't know what to say.

"Do you believe that Jesus lived?" he asked.

"Yes. But beyond that, I'm just really not sure of anything."

"Well, what do you think about the Liar, Lunatic, Lord argument?"

(It's the argument that says that Jesus must have been one of the three, and the only reasonable option is "Lord").

"I... I just don't really know. I mean I guess it makes sense, but I just don't really know anymore."
2) I wanted to figure out how to explain myself, so I called Klint Bicknell. He was the smartest nonchristian I knew, and I wanted to know about how he explained himself to people.

We hadn't discussed religion since before he lost his faith, so the phone call surprised him a little.

"Wait, before I get into this," he said. "You know that I don't really..."

"Yeah, Kendall told me."

"Ok, good. Because sometimes people ask me to help them with their Christian walk, and I never know how to break it to them..."

"Oh wow, I see."

We talked for about thirty minutes, then he sent me 3 long emails about why he doubted Christianity. It mostly had to do with the Authenticity of Scripture and general methods of indoctrination.

Afterwards, I felt better, but still confused.

I talked to one of the Summit leaders about my struggle, and he gave me a book. It's called New Evidence that Demands a Verdict, and I still have it. The inscription says, "Here's the evidence, now you supply the verdict." It cost him over thirty dollars, and when he gave it to me, he said, "Now you'd better wear out the cover on this book."
I resolved to read all 750 pages, but I kept getting stuck after 20 or 30. It felt too much like everything I had already heard, only more difficult to grasp. I became frustrated with myself, for not being able to read it.

"If I really wanted the answers," I thought, "then I would read this book." And I still feel frustrated sometimes, for not being able to read it.

When I got back from Summit, I told my whole Sunday School class that I was questioning my faith.

One of my classmates said to me, "Don't stop questioning. Don't rest until you have settled whatever it is that you're trying to settle in your mind."

But I was already settled, in a way. I was already comfortable with the status of "questioning," opening the doors to new ideas rather than engaging the evidence that supported the worldview from which I was walking.