<Theofragen>

While growing up, I had a beautiful black Labrador Retriever named Chessy. Chessy, like most labs was great with kids and generally of an amicable disposition. She tirelessly endured the playful abuse of my sister and me. Through it all… through trying to ride her across the yard like a miniature pony, through reenacting my favorite wrestling moves between Andre the Giant and Hacksaw Jim Dugan… she never once snapped at us nor bit us. She did, however, hold her joviality in abeyance while she was eating. When her food was set before her we knew not to bother her until she finished eating. Any deviation from this practice resulted in a slow, deep growl and a penetrating gaze that alerted everyone in my family not to screw around with her.

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I never quite figured out why she did this. Was it because she was embarrassed about her table manners, having resigned herself to eating from a bowl on the floor while the rest of the family ate at the table? Perhaps her mealtime despondency was a vestige of her wolfish ancestors and the survival instinct associated with competition for food? Whatever the reason, I learned that when she was given some space, Chessy was free to eat her meal without agitation. Conversely, something about perturbing her while she ate not only kept her from eating, but also threatened the rest of our family.

Perhaps it is similar with dogmatic Fundamentalists. Let me say it stronger still: I think it is the same with such folk. I recall as a young theology student how defensive I became when my “liberal” professors and colleagues challenged my fragile presuppositions that bolstered, albeit precariously, my dogmatism. When antagonistic questions threatened the feeble foundations of my “orthodoxy,” the growl would begin as a low rumble deep within my soul and, sadly enough, I often verbally bit my antagonist.

It was not until I was given space, often late at night with a theology book or early in the morning with my Bible, that my dogmatism began to wane. “What if God didn’t create the world in six literal days?” “Might partriarchal sexism be intricately interwoven into the fabric of the New Testament?” When I was alone with my thoughts I could explore, with greater profundity, such issues that threatened my tenacious fundamentalism. When I think back about how vehemently I fought against certain ideas in public and how, on a solitary jog around campus, I would wrestle with “Truth,” I am challenged to rethink the way that I interact with dogmatic Fundamentalists today.

Maybe the best thing we can do for such folks is to pose a few questions and let them eat their supper in peace, undisturbed. Then we can allow them space, in their unguarded time, to think through these issues on their own. Hmmm?

My Silly Dog

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