I Was Fooled
Meditations On Foolish Faith
It was 1983 and the end of my seventh grade year. I had just been elected eighth-grade class president for my final stint at middle school. I was ‘going with’ a girl I really liked. My band (The Sequential Crayons) had just rocked an assembly with our rendition of “Runaway Sue.” Life was good for this thirteen-year-old.
In the midst of this good life, I found myself one day on the blacktop at lunchtime recess. Kids were all around, skipping rope, playing four-square, hitting tether balls, chasing each other around. I was walking with an apple in my hand. I don’t recall where the apple came from, but I assume it was from the sack lunch my mom packed for me every day.
I remember looking at that apple in my hand. It was Red Delicious, about the size of a baseball. I was never a fan of that variety. In my experience, they look nice on the outside, but are usually mealy in the middle.
Looking up from the apple, I saw Greg Block. Greg was a bully. He was already in eighth grade and he liked to harass me and my seventh-grade pals—though, it was generally low-grade harassment. He wasn’t particularly violent or mean. In fact, he probably turned into a fine adult. (Greg, if you’re reading this, no hard feelings.)
Greg was walking along the cinder-block wall where kids liked to bounce their kickballs, about 20 yards away from me. Without warning, my arm went back (the one attached to the hand that was holding the apple) and swung forward, launching the fruit like a fast-pitch pomme. It whizzed past the recess lady and went splat! on the grey wall just inches from Greg’s head. Bits fell to the ground, while some of the apple clung to the concrete leaving a juicy mark. I can still see Greg’s wide, incredulous eyes glaring back at me.
I did play baseball in middle school, but I was always on first base or in right field, never pitcher—which may explain why I missed Greg. Or maybe I missed him on purpose? I’m really not sure what I meant to do. This was evident after the recess lady marched me to the principal’s office, where I sat in front of the head of the school and answered his, “Why did you do it?” with a silent shoulder shrug.
I suppose… I was just being a fool.
Old-School Fool
But was I “being a fool”? Yes. I was definitely “acting unwisely and stupidly,” which fits the modern definition. However, there is a nuanced, archaic definition of the noun fool—an example of which is found in this verse from the Psalms:
“The fool says in their heart, ‘There is no God.’” (Psalms 14:1)
The old-school fool is one who is duped. It’s someone who is tricked into believing something that is not true. (Or not believing something that is true.) You can see where April Fools’ Day draws its inspiration. And of course, one who is fooled in the archaic sense is also predisposed to acting unwisely and stupidly.
The old-school fool is one who was duped. It’s someone who is tricked into believing something that is not true. (Or not believing something that is true.)
When it comes matters of faith, I do believe I’ve been duped. I’ve been a classic fool—but not in terms of Psalm 14. I do not say in my heart that there is no god. I confess, there are moments when I conceive of my death being followed by absolutely nothing; my last breath on earth actually being my last, with no One to greet me on the other side. But on the balance, I do believe god exists.
Where I fear I’ve been fooled in faith has more to do with the details about god’s character. I also believe I’ve been fooled when it comes to the contours and boundaries of life in this world as envisioned and manifested by god.
Here’s the thing: humans know much less about god than we think we know. My experience and my conscience tell me so. The Bible does, too. Scriptural support for skepticism about how much we know about god’s agenda can be found in the most “archaic” part of the bible: the book of Job.
In short, god allows the upstanding man Job to lose everything and then Job and his friends deliver long speeches about why they believe god did this. In Job 38 ff. god has the final word (also a long speech), which can be boiled down the rhetorical: “What do any of you really know about me and my ways?”
I Was Fooled In Faith
Here’s a partial list of the ways I believe I’ve been fooled in faith…
I was fooled into believing that god sends everyone to hell who doesn’t assent to a particular set of propositions about the nature of god and the person of Jesus
I was fooled into believing that this hell is a “hot, hot place” (to quote Mrs. Scoville, the kids’ over-zealous pre-school Bible teacher) where people who don’t obey are subject to 24/7 torture for all of eternity
I was fooled into believing that sex is mostly bad (except for under very specific circumstances) and that the naked human body is mostly shameful
I was fooled into believing that women do not belong in positions of spiritual leadership
I was fooled into believing that LGBTQ people are just disillusioned sinners who need to repent and start loving the ones they are “supposed” to love
I was fooled into believing that the descendants of Israel are somehow more special than all the other particular ethnicities on this planet
I was fooled into believing that the Bible is without error and that it should be understood literally
I was fooled into believing that only Christians are uniquely qualified to speak for and about god
I was fooled into believing that other religions are completely false, or at least flawed enough to be dangerous and void of any real value
So how on earth did I become such a fool in matters of faith? My middle school foolishness may prove to be an instructive (if gently tortured) metaphor…
Hitting God Right Between the Eyes
You see, I’ve been throwing apples at god since I could raise my arm. (I told you Greg wasn’t a bad guy.) The apples are my beliefs. Each apple represents a particular idea I have, some conception about who god is or how god acts. Of course, the goal with the apple throwing is to hit god right between the eyes. That’s a belief that’s right on target.
From an early age, I was given apples from all kinds of people and places: my mom & dad, my pastors, my friends, the TV, even the Bible. Over time, many more apples have been added to my barrel.
I don’t blame anyone in particular for the barrel of mealy apples I inherited, or for the apples that were added to my barrel over time. Most apple-sharers, like my parents for instance, were innocently grabbing apples from the barrel they inherited themselves.
The Wrong Apples
As I’ve wandered the blacktop (you know, life), I’ve thrown my apples at god whenever I have the chance. For example, the first time I encountered someone who was gay, I picked up the apple someone had given me in the past—the one that represented the idea that homosexuals are sinners who are deceived because they love someone whom they are not supposed to love.
This particular apple was originally handed to me by my youth pastor via certain passages in the Bible. The apple was further ripened by a barrage of negative messages from different churches I attended, from conservative Christian media, and from other Evangelical groups with whom I’ve interacted at various levels.
Interestingly, growing up in the 70s and 80s, messages in the mainstream media also contributed to my negative views of homosexuals. For example, I recently went back and watched an old Eddie Murphy standup special called Delirious (released in 1983—that same year as my middle-school apple incident!) I remember my friends and I loved that special as as a middle-schoolers, but today, I find Murphy’s jokes to be drenched in homophobic tropes, with offensive language about gays that I find today to be hateful.
Every time I hucked that mealy-red, anti-gay apple at the face of god, I missed. When I was a kid, a miss felt good. I reveled in the splat and the satisfying stain on the wall.
But somewhere along the line, that splat on the wall became less satisfying, until it started to seem to me like juicy carnage. Seeing those pulverized pieces of red apple that fell to the ground suggested the broken spirit of some LGBTQ person—and left me with a hollow feeling. It also left me with a sense that god was standing by, staring at me with wide, incredulous eyes, as if to say, “What are you doing, you fool?”
And it was not only my perception of god’s disapproval that caused me to realize my foolishness. It was also the number of times the recess lady (aka circumstances? fate? karma?) sent me to the principal’s office, where I was forced to confront the true consequences and meaning of my actions.
After so many apple splats, so many trips to the office, and so many shrugs, I finally allowed the accumulation of my experiences to teach me. And I allowed my own conscience to speak.
I was finally able to admit: I had the wrong apple.
Now, I’ve removed all those anti-gay apples from my barrel and replaced them with another variety. These new apples are golden, crisp, and sweet. They accept people who love different than me, and they don’t have a secret agenda to ‘pray that gay away.’ In fact, these apples celebrate the Imago Dei in everyone, no reservations.
And of course, these new apples never miss. Can’t you just see the huge smile on the face of god and hear the joyous laughter as the juice drips from god’s chin?
Can’t you just see the huge smile on the face of god and hear the joyous laughter as the juice drips from god’s chin?
Replacing an Apple a Day
There are still many mealy apples in my barrel, representing a wide range of foolish beliefs about god. I still throw them from time to time. And I still miss, like a fool. But I’m working on replacing them with only the most delicious varieties that will improve my aim, increase my love for neighbors, and inspire the approving amusement of god.
The very best of these new varieties are sweet and crisp, dappled with bright colors. They are beliefs about god that are aligned with the reality of a god who is love and who doesn’t play games with their own creation.
An apple a day…
Now that I’ve tortured this metaphor to the brink of death, I’d like to hear from you!
How have you been ‘fooled in faith’? What is one idea about god’s character or god’s agenda in the world that you used to believe—and now you have come to believe that it’s not true?
Hi, Eric. I got hit with Psalm 14:1 shortly after I left Evangelicalism. When I shared on Facebook that I no longer believed in God, someone commented with that citation. At the time, I took it as a childish insult, but in retrospect, I suspect they were doing what I would have done not too long before, if our roles were reversed: trying to make myself feel better about looking down on someone who had different religious beliefs than I did.
"The fool says in his heart, 'There is no God.' They are corrupt, their deeds are vile; there is no one who does good."
The word translated "fool" (Hebrew נָבָל) means "an impious person." Strong's defines it, "foolish, senseless, especially of the man who has no perception of ethical and religious claims, and with collateral idea of ignoble, disgraceful." (Strong's is the only lexicon I have handy anymore, courtesy BlueLetterBible.org. All of my old Bible study resources are packed away in boxes.)
What got me then (and still gets me now) is that we just assume that if someone doesn't believe in God, then they must be immoral. If someone isn't religious, they must be a bad person. And when I was an Evangelical, that's what I believed, and I never questioned it. It wasn't about having been deceived (fooled) or lacking wisdom (foolish). Rather, it was about being evil.
Eric, this is raw and sooo relatable. I have never had any prejudice against the LGBTQIA community however, I see, mostly via social media, so many of the people we grew up with still live with these prejudices against a plethora of constructs and have little or know desire to exercise critical thinking. Empathy and compassion seem to have little value. Sadly, as we see all across America the propensity toward recreational cruelty is alive and well. Your writing is always thought provoking and introspective. I thank you for sharing.