I started writing a series of posts reviewing Frank Schaeffer’s Crazy for God: How I Grew Up as One of the Elect, Helped Found the Religious Right, and Lived to Take All (or Almost All) of It Back a little over a year ago, back when I first read the book, and got sidetracked. Because the book has been on my mind again recently – along with thoughts of why we believe what we believe – I decided to finish the other two or three posts I had begun working on. Here are links to parts one, two, and three.

In Chapter 51, Frank writes about his father’s turn back to the denominational fights that had occupied his attention during the 40’s and 50’s. One casualty of that mindset was Francis’ son-in-law, John Sandri, who had begun giving Bible studies at L’Abri that “some of the more strictly Calvinistic workers,” like Francis’ two other sons-in-law, said bordered on heresy.

John’s “crime” was his interest in how the Bible states things and how you draw meaning from the biblical text. John knew that if you push the so-called Sola Scriptura Calvinist approach and the “inerrancy” ideas to their absurd limit, all real study of the Bible stops. It becomes a magical text. It is no longer open to interpretation. Dogma replaces study, because scholarship can only be meaningful when you are allowed to ask real questions and let the chips fall where they may.

It was decided that John should no longer teach in L’Abri. Dad instigated this anti-John, purity-of-the-visible-church purge. In the case of John – who was by far all of our family’s favorite person and the picture of kindness and Christian love, as well as common sense – the absurdity of trying to demand one-note theological purity became clear…

Dad went so far as to come up with a statement that everyone in L’Abri had to sign if they wanted to remain in the work. It was a McCarthy-type loyalty oath to the “inerrancy of scripture” concept. And of course John, to his credit, didn’t sign. Everyone else, to their discredit, did.

When L’Abri banned John Sandri from teaching, they asked if he would stay on nevertheless and help run the work! … And since John, unlike Dad at that point, didn’t take himself too seriously, he volunteered to help out, rather than let The Work collapse under the weight of an absurd theological fight.

It was a lesson I never forgot. To me, John’s selfless actions came to represent what faith looks like when lived, as opposed to what theological “purity” looks like. And one reason I still bother to struggle to have faith is because of John Sandri’s example. He truly returned good for evil.

As I read this the first time, remembering those in my life whose examples make me “still bother to struggle to have faith,” the lyrics to Andrew Osenga’s High School Band started going through my mind, in particular the third verse which always gives me pause and makes me wonder how I would respond.

// Frank used to pastor the Baptist church / before they tried to run him out. / He said, “Jesus, the righteous one, threw no stones,” / so he wasn’t starting now.//

One of the primary discussions taking place in the church today is on the topic of orthodoxy versus orthpraxy, that is, right doctrine versus right practice. The first thing often mentioned is that it is not a matter of either/or. Correct, in theory. But in practice one side always outweighs the other. Because, growing up, I spent enough time around those who emphasize “correct doctrine” over everything else, those who focus – even too much, perhaps – on how you live, on the practice of faith, is who I want to be around now. That is one reason I like the work of men like Rob Bell, even though I am not in complete theologic agreement with him. It makes me sick now whenever I am around groups that demand one-hundred percent theological agreement (as if there is such a thing) before you can work with, or even be around, them. I hope I’m never again in that kind of small, perverse world.