Although I’m sad that Megan doesn’t pray anymore, I get it given her upbringing, and I learned a ton from Unfollow: A Memoir of Loving and Leaving Westboro Baptist Church. Westboro Baptist…yeah, they’re the ones with the website godhatesfag.com—the ones that for years have held up vile signs in the name of God and even protested at military funerals. Megan, the granddaughter of the now-deceased founder of Westboro, Fred Phelps, was once in charge of their Twitter strategy.
Here’s a glimpse of where she’s landed after leaving Westboro:
“I started to understand that doubt was the point—that it was the most basic shift in how I experienced the world. Doubt was no more than epistemological humility: a deep and practical awareness that outside our sphere of knowledge there existed information and experiences that might show our position to be in error. Doubt causes us to hold a position a bit more loosely. Such that an acknowledgement of ignorance or error doesn’t crush our sense of self or leave us totally unmoored if our position proves untenable. Certainty is the opposite: in hampers inquiry and hinders growth. It teaches us to ignore evidence that contradicts our ideas, and encourages us to defend our position at all costs, even as it reveals itself as indefensible. Certainty sees compromise as weak, hypocritical, evil, supporting empathy and allowing us to justify inflicting horrible pain on others.
Doubt wasn’t the sin, I came to believe. It was the arrogance of certainty that poisoned Westboro at its foundations.”
Unfollow (273-274)
Megan’s story is fascinating and there’s so much in her book that I wholeheartedly agree with. We part ways, however, in her definition of “epistemological humility”.
I liked this part of her definition:
“The essence of epistemological humility [is] not a lack or principle or faith, not the refusal to take a position or the abdication of responsibility to stand against injustice, but a constant examination of one’s worldview, a commitment to honestly grappling with criticisms of it.” (277)
Megan’s right that we dwell in significant ignorance—that’s a major theme of Ecclesiastes (see 8:16-17). But she doesn’t go far enough. My fifty-four years on this planet and working as a carpenter has taught me well the truth spoken by the great theologian, Clint Eastwood: “A man’s got to know his limitations.” Ok, maybe Clint isn’t a theologian but his words underscore the sheer folly of the idea that humans can figure things out without any help from God. In other words, experiencing our profound limitations—what Megan calls “epistemological humility”—should drive us to seek answers outside ourselves.
Thomas Merton’s prayer captures our plight well:
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.[1]
Merton’s prayer is honest about our limitations, capacity for self-deception, and need to throw ourselves wholly on the mercy of God.
With an “epistemological humility,” then, rooted firmly in the God we can trust, here are three characteristics of Megan’s Westboro Baptist upbringing that every Christian should beware of:
- “the destructive nature of viewing the world in black and white” (276) Just scroll through FB or Twitter for few minutes. Note how there is less and less room for nuance, “third ways”, and various viewpoints between the extremes.
- “the danger of becoming calcified in a position and impervious to change” (276) This brings to mind one deacon I used to butt heads with a lot as a young pastor. Seemingly immovable in his legalism, he would often say, “If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything!” Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to value the art of listening well to make sure one’s “stand” was sure or correct. His thinking was rather consistent with the debate tactics/fallacies my college public speaking professor taught us: “Weak point, yell louder!”
- “the demonization of outsiders and the inability to substantively engage with their ideas…” (276) It’s this last point that I’m most concerned about in today’s Church. Megan says it well: “At the heart of this insistence [that opposing views must be silenced] lie several false assumptions, including a sentiment that Westboro members would readily recognize: We have nothing to learn from these people.” (276)
For discussion: Psalm 1:1 says, “Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers…” What does this mean? How can a Christian follow God’s wisdom here and yet sincerely view others—regardless of their beliefs—as people they can learn from? What would our attitudes and behavior look like if we viewed people this way?
[1]Thomas Merton, Thomas Merton: Spiritual Master, (Paulist: Mahwah), 243.