Frank Schaeffer has earned a reputation as an outspoken critic of The Religious Right, a group he says is "fueled by an adrenaline of hysteria."
But when Frank agreed to chat with me about his book "Crazy for God: how I grew up as one of The Elect, helped found The Religious Right, and lived to take it all (or almost all) of it back," I was inspired by his compelling, thoughtful insight into the evangelical mindset and the steps that brought about the politicization of an entire bloc of Christian voters. I was particularly curious about the process that led Frank to abandon the religious convictions of his famous evangelical father, Dr. Francis Schaeffer, and how his journey away from what he calls "jingoistic, cult-of-personality Christianity" has shaped his faith.
An Open-Hearted Childhood
Frank was raised in a loving, fundamentalist missionary home by parents who were sincere in their love for God and other people. Like most fundamentalists, there were strict rules about no cursing, no TV, no card games. But the Schaeffers demonstrated their love and open-hearted approach to faith by welcoming backpackers, hikers, artists, musicians and wanderers of all sorts into their Switzerland home. It was there, in L'Abri Fellowship, that Dr. Francis Schaeffer began his lectures on art, culture, literature and Christian thought. And then, he became a best-selling author.
"Things changed after that," Frank said. "Suddenly we were packing out auditoriums with our video seminars like How Should We Then Live?" Dr. Schaeffer began urging the post Billy Graham generation that true service for Jesus Christ meant political action. It was a Christian's duty to vote according to, what Frank called, "the moral litmus test" in order to prevent America from a socialistic takeover.
In Bed With Hysterics
The resulting evangelical political fervor caught the attention of politicians. Soon Dr. Schaeffer was being flown around on private jets and invited to private meetings with senators and the Bush family. Politicians wanted Schaeffer's counsel on how to energize what had historically been an apathetic voting bloc: the evangelical, faith-based voter.
Right around the same time, Hal Lindsey (a visitor to Schaeffer's L'Abri home) published his lightening rod bestseller Late, Great Planet Earth. Dr. Francis Schaeffer didn't adhere to Lindsey's eschatology, but it was too late: The Religious Right had provided a platform for the Apocalypse. And any other fear-based rhetoric that would energize voters.
"It was like one day you woke up and realized you were in bed with hysterics," Frank chuckled. "We'd gone from my Dad warning that Roe v. Wade would lead to a liberal takeover of the Supreme Court to Jerry Falwell telling me personally that if he saw his dogs doing what gays do, he'd shoot them."
Frank says his dad refused to join Anita Bryant's crusade to ban gay teachers from public schools. "Anita left in quite a huff," he said. "But my Dad wasn't interested in jumping on her bandwagon. In practice, he was open-hearted and non-judgmental about gays, atheists and other non-believers." It seemed as if The Religious Right was trying to pigeon-hole Dr. Schaeffer's message. No longer was it about serving Jesus Christ in politics. It was about serving Jesus Christ by voting Republican.
The End is Near because Obama is a Socialist
Franks sees parallels between The-End-Is-Near alarmism of the late 70's and 80's to the modern Obama-Is-A-Socialist rallying cry. "They're trading in the same currency of fear," Frank says. "Except it's a secularized version. It's no longer about serving Jesus. It's about preserving capitalism. Glenn Beck is James Dobson warmed over and re-packaged for cable television."
The problem is that this kind of rhetoric has what Frank calls, "the logical, next step." Either you pack up your family and high-tail it to the country where you try to survive the imminent Apocalypse (and by the way, both Frank and I know folks who have done this). Or you pick up a loaded gun and go after the President. This is the scenario that most troubles Frank. "Most of these radical groups are small enough that they won't bring down the United States," he says. "But they can destroy individual lives. All it takes is one wing-nut to put the rest of us in a world of trouble for a very long time."
I have to admit that this is the scenario that scares me the most, too. Radical fundamentalists are a minority population. But I've read enough hyper-patriarchal/fundamentalist blogs to agree with Frank that some of these folks are "rooting for Armageddon."
Patience with God
When I asked Frank about where he is now with his faith, he described it as a journey. He says he's moved away from the sermon-based, pastor-centric model of Christianity. He's wary of the churches that spring up because of one fantastic, eloquent personality. "It's a cult-of-personality," he comments. "And what happens when he dies? When my Dad died, L'Abri Fellowship declined. There was infighting and disagreements."
In some ways, it seems a sermon-based, pastor-centric model is not sustainable. "People say 'come hear my pastor preach what the Bible says,'" Frank observes. "But what they really mean is 'come hear what my pastor says it says.'" In those churches, Frank says "salvation is through adhering to the same set of beliefs rather than a human journey toward character change."
This faith journey was the inspiration for his new book, Patience With God: Faith for People Who Don't Like Religion (or atheism). Frank says he is drawn to the ancient traditions of liturgy and sacrament. There is something timeless about these things, an acceptance that we are "human beings on a human journey. And that is OK."
I couldn't agree more.
Up next on my reading list: Patience with God: Faith for People Who Don't Like Religion (or atheism).
Thank you, Frank, for speaking with me. It was a great pleasure.