'Bible Belt' religion

The term "Bible Belt" usually refers to a swath of territory stretching across the American South and into the Midwest characterized by intense religious loyalties, although sometimes paradoxically associated with low levels of church attendance. It is easy to look down one's nose at Bible Belt religion, although Brandon Meeks expresses appreciation for its impact on his own faith: I Survived (Because of) Bible Belt Religion. An excerpt:

Some time ago, one leading evangelical influencer rejoiced over the decline of “Bible Belt Religion,” commenting that it “made bad people worse.” More recently, another Christian pundit took another swing at the cultural Christianity of the South, one of his favorite punching bags, calling it a form of “toxic religion” that is, at best, an expression of the Faith to be “survived.”

While I would agree with them that wholehearted, full-throated devotion to Jesus Christ would be preferable, I can’t find such dedication even among our Lord’s hand-picked Apostles or in a single congregation since the strange winds began blowing at Pentecost. These critics of the faith of my kin seem to be stricken by a virulent strain of perfectionism. Such perfectionism is little more than the Holiness doctrine of entire sanctification applied to culture, or at least to certain cultures. Hence, one of the problems with their disdain for the Bible Belt stems from an over-realized eschatology; a transformationalism that expects seeds to yield a hundred-fold overnight. Nevertheless, we are praying for lasting fruit, not Morning Glories.

One can imagine fewer complaints from the South if her critics held everyone over the fiery pit like one of Edwards’s unfortunate spiders, and did so with equal contempt. But there seems to be a bit of socio-theological dissonance at play. On the one hand, cultures that are overtly pagan, unbelieving, or outright anti-god are viewed through the starry eye of Pelagian optimism. While on the other hand, the imperfect religious expressions of the Bible Belt are met with the clenched fist of an Augustinianism gone to seed. The latter is denounced as utterly depraved with all of the fervor of a tent-revivalist, while the former are patted on the head like some tame race of noble savages.

Just so, barring a faulty eschatology or kind of theological schizophrenia, one is left to draw the conclusion that those who dislike “Bible Belt Religion” really just dislike the Bible Belt. But for my part, I thank God for the Bible Belt people who introduced me to Jesus.

Although I myself was not raised on Bible Belt religion, during childhood visits to relatives in southeastern Michigan, our family would attend the little independent Baptist church of which they were members. The congregation revelled in the "anxious bench" methods of revivalism, with the pastor issuing an "altar call" every week to the tones of the organist playing Just As I Am Without One Plea. He preached endlessly on the end times and claimed to love hearing parishioners page through their King James Bibles to follow his sermons. Anticommunist tracts were spread out on a table in the foyer. The congregation sang one revival hymn after another, but for some reason there were almost no prayers said during worship except over the offering plate.

While in retrospect I cannot endorse the dispensational theology underpinning this congregation's piety, I was deeply impressed by the minister's emphasis that the life in Christ calls for standing fast in the face of opposition from the world, and even of persecution if it should come. I remember praying that we might be spared persecution for our faith. All the same, I earnestly asked God that, if such persecution did indeed come, he would give me the strength and resolve to remain faithful. This is heady stuff for an elementary-school-age boy, but the preaching in this church did manage to toughen my faith, and for that I remain grateful.