After our RUF Christmas party a week and a half ago, I went out to Bosco’s for drinks with two other seniors (Ruthanne and Haley), our RUF intern (Casey), and our RUF pastor’s wife (Shelly). And it was fabulous. I don’t get to spend near as much time with any of them as I’d like, and I hardly get to see Casey and Shelly at all.
The conversation had been going along pleasantly for a while when Casey asked me if I was excited about going home. The answer to that question is always no. Especially this break, when my best friend and I are only going to overlap for about 4 days. I responded as such with no hestitation, which I think surprised them all a bit. Casey’s a counselor, so she began asking questions about why, etc. And I started giving answers, mostly about all the craziness and dysfunctionality that is my family (for the record, I absolutely consider myself just as dysfunctional, albeit in very different ways, as the rest of my family).
Somehow, this conversation led into a discussion on being raised in the PCA. Oh. My. Lord. It was incredible. I can honestly say that I have never before felt so understood while talking about my religious upbringing. It was fascinating, really. I grew up PCA. In fact, until I went off to college, I could count on one hand the number of non-PCA churches I’d ever been to. Ruthanne started going to PCA churches in high school. Haley had never heard of reformed theology until midway through college. Casey and Shelly both became reformed in college, mostly through RUF. Casey especially is among those who started out as “TR’s” (Totally Reformed…ie, absolutely obsessed with reformed theology, and talking/discussing/arguing/pontificating about it at every possible opportunity).
We talked for a while about how unique my generation is, being the first to be raised PCA. There are a lot of things that my generation is discovering about the denomination, and especially the culture and sociology of the denomination that most older folks don’t know, simply because they weren’t born into the tradition. We talked about how the PCA pretty much brainwashes its kids, about a variety of things, but does it very very subtly and unintentionally (or, at least, I’m willing to give the benefit of the doubt that there isn’t a brainwashing committee at GA every year).
The thing that we talked about for a long time is the difference in anxiety between reformed and non-reformed kids. Haley shared about growing up Southern Baptist and worrying that she wasn’t doing enough, wasn’t good enough for Christ and for heaven. When she first heard about grace when she started attending a PCA church with Ruthanne, she pretty much thought it was the greatest thing in the world. She didn’t really understand how there was any anxiety coming from the reformed side, since we’d known about grace all along. But Ruthanne and I talked about the anxiety to do good because of grace, rather than instead. In other words, Christ has already taken care of this, but how on earth can I even begin to repay him or show him how grateful I am? (I think there’s also anxiety stemming from the emphasis on following God’s will and God’s call, and the fear of making decisions against His will…but that goes down a really awkward road of everyone’s favorite topic of argument, so I’m not even opening that gate)
Either way, it’s a losing battle. One can never do enough good for heaven, and one can never do enough good to repay Christ. And I think there’s burnout either way. The Southern Baptist kids weary of their works and discover grace. The Reformed kids weary of grace and discover redemption, but only after first discovering sin. Which is probably a broad oversimplification of the issue of burnedout Reformed kids. And it isn’t to say that Reformed kids didn’t ever sin before. But I know a whole heck of a lot of Reforme kids, myself included, who stumbled upon very visible lifestyle type patterns of sin (read: excessive overdrinking, drug use, sexual issues, etc).
And I think that tells me more about the human condition than any sociology book ever could. We’re all so screwed up that, even when we should have all the right answers, we still manage to screw up more, because the right answers are never enough of an answer.
