There’s a new genre in town. We still have love stories, science fiction stories, crime stories. We also still have conversion stories, testimonies about God’s grace in our lives. What is new is the yang to that yin, testimonies of turning one’s back on God’s grace, on leaving the faith.
Like a rom-com starring an action hero, deconversion stories have something for everyone. For the unbeliever you have the blessing of encouragement, of having someone writing about how they came to be on your team. For the believer you have the emotional pull of watching someone else’s spiritual train wreck. And the author gets kudos from all sides for honesty and bravery.
Sadly, such stories are not honest. Honestly they are just sad. And bravery left town a long time ago. What believers need is the bravery to look straight into the heart of the sadness, and call the lost to come home. The hard truth is that at that moment of rejection we don’t and can’t know if we are dealing with the one sheep that has wandered off, or with a wolf that has just removed his wool suit. Either way, our calling is to repent, believe the gospel and to call such deconverts to repent and believe the gospel.
What we don’t repent for is what we are accused of. Usually deconversion stories include tales of mean-spirited judgers who have the heart of Scrooge and the sexual ethic of Queen Victoria. Deconversion stories often amount to little more than, “I had to choose between my sexual partner and Jesus. I choose the former.” Or, “I had to choose between my friends who engage in sex outside of marriage and Jesus. I choose the former.” The accusation against us is that we make the Christian faith not just about does and don’ts, but that our don’ts all have to do with taking our pants off. It’s not that Christians have made sexual purity the defining quality of our faith. It’s that the world has made sexual license the defining quality of their faith. It’s just about impossible to construct a syncretistic god out of one God who says, “No sex outside of marriage” and another who says, “Do what thou wilt.”
No, we repent not for being too cold, too hard, too judge-y but for being too warm, too soft, too accommodating. We repent for hanging with the same spirit that led them astray, that spirit that wants us to value the approval of the world above the truth of the Word. We do, however, believe in the gospel, and its power to save. We recognize that power because we’ve seen it save a wretch like me. If Jesus could redeem someone as wicked as me, surely he could redeem someone whose false conversion didn’t take. If Jesus can chase me down when I have, having already been redeemed, washed, forgiven, indwelt, willfully wandered off He can surely find a sheep that has wandered into a pigsty.
Do not commiserate with the deconverts as they grumble against your brothers and sisters. Don’t try to connect in your disdain for others. Connect in your joint disdain for yourselves. They, whether they were never genuinely converted, or are sheep that are lost, are carrying the weight of their own sin. Tell them about Jesus, about the cross, about the Father’s love, about forgiveness, about His promise to never leave us or forsake us. Let us not be ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God unto salvation.
