Heretic Hereafter Podcast

Katharine Strange
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Heretic Hereafter is about figuring out how to live the good life after leaving Evangelical Christianity. Whether you're religious or not, join us for a weekly dose of humor and reflection that helps us look past the superficial for life's deeper meanings. heretichereafter.substack.com

  1. 6d ago

    Stop Threatening to Move to Canada

    I hear it all the time: America is doomed! It’s a dumpster fire! Democracy is over, etcetera, etcetera! Let’s all move to Europe! Oh wait, they have far-right, anti-immigrant leaders, too? Okay…New Zealand? Or there’s always our good old friendly neighbor to the north, right?!?! Lefties have been threatening to move to Canada, off and on, since George W. Bush was elected in 2000. The cries grew significantly louder after Trump’s first and second elections. And I get it—these are two administrations that were elected despite losing the popular vote; two administrations who have launched unnecessary foreign wars while simultaneously chipping away at American civil liberties. And let’s be real, Trump’s greed, narcissism, and lust for power makes Bush look like a thoughtful elder statesman in comparison. Of course, we despair when it felt like our votes didn’t matter and as we’ve watched congress and the courts cede more and more of their duty to act as checks and balances. But I’m not ready to give up on America, and neither should you. Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. America is Not Nazi Germany World War Two looms large in the American imagination, and with good reason. There’s been plenty of scholarship devoted to recording and sharing the stories of those Hitler persecuted, particularly Jewish people. Who upon hearing these stories of lucky escapes, doesn’t imagine themselves in their shoes, fleeing the Nazi death machine? Who among us doesn’t scan the headlines from time to time, wondering about our country’s own descent towards fascism? And yet, thankfully, we are not there. Yes, there has been persecution of certain groups, particularly Brown and Black immigrants. This is awful, disgusting behavior that we should not tolerate. And the good news is, most Americans (60%) don’t. We saw the power of resistance in the fight for Minneapolis last January. We’ve seen it in the national outcry against Trump’s thuggish policies. And we’ve seen it in Trump’s cratering approval ratings. Yes, there is a core of MAGA followers who, it seems, will follow their dear leader to the gates of Hell, but most Americans won’t. Using Our Privilege Wisely It’s one thing to stand in solidarity with those who are persecuted, it’s another to imagine ourselves persecuted when we are not. As I wrote about last month, we must always check our fears against evidence. And when I look at the evidence I see that I, a middle-class white woman living in Seattle, am not being persecuted. What to do with all this privilege, then? Move to Canada out of some fear of what could, hypothetically, happen? Moving would be a lot easier for me than for most of the folks reading this. Immigration is always—bare minimum—a huge pain in the ass, but I’ve lived in Canada before. Both my kids were born there. (Thanks for the c-sections, British Columbia!) But when I think about the people I admire, such as Martin Luther King and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, these were people who stayed and fought. Bonhoeffer came to America during the Third Reich to learn from American Civil Rights leaders. He could’ve stayed, but instead he wrote to Reinhold Niebuhr (author of the Serenity Prayer): “I have made the mistake in coming to America. I must live through this difficult period of our national history with the Christian people of Germany. I will have no right to participate in the reconstruction of Christian life in Germany after the war if I do not share the trials of this time with my people” Bonhoeffer was eventually killed for his acts of resistance against Hitler. And, of course, King was assassinated for his activism. Do I undermine my own argument by holding them up as examples? I must concede: resistance is never a safe road. For reminders of this, we need look no further than the murders of Alex Pretti and Renee Good in Minneapolis. And yet, I keep coming back to Kant’s Categorical Imperative. What in the What Now? Don’t be scared, I’m not going to pummel you with philosophical jargon. Basically, the Categorical Imperative is a way of asking if an action is morally permissible by imagining that everyone is allowed to do this action and then asking whether the resulting world would be better or worse. Take stealing. If I want to know whether stealing a pack of gum from the 7-11 is moral, I can imagine a world where everyone is allowed to steal packs of gum from 7-11. I imagine gum shelves gone bare and gum companies going out of business because no one pays for their products anymore. Probably there would be chewed gum stuck everywhere. Clearly this is a worse world; therefore, stealing gum is unethical. So what if I make the rule that every time a president comes to power whom you didn’t vote for who enacts policies you find unjust, you are allowed to move to Canada? In our current polarized situation, wouldn’t that mean half the country emigrating every 4-8 years? Who would be left to push back? Who would hold wannabe dictators accountable? Wouldn’t we just be ceding our country to extremists? Introducing “Stuck Together Summer” This question goes beyond where we live. I think our culture is one in which it is very easy to leave. We are people who move frequently, who can quit clubs, groups, or friends with few repercussions. We’ve seen this in the decline in religiosity and civic groups and the rise of going no-contact with family members. In some ways this is good and necessary—no-fault divorce saves lives. No one should be forced to stay in a relationship or a community that’s abusive. And yet, I do wonder if this era of The Big Sort has shortchanged us in some ways. If we’re always eying the exit, do we miss opportunities to repair and build deeper relationships? Are we becoming too thin-skinned and individualistic? So this summer, I want to look at the idea of Commitment, or what I’m cheekily calling “Stuck Together Summer.” Here are some questions I have: * when is commitment helpful vs. harmful? * how do you know when to quit a relationship or community? * how do various communities work through conflict? * how do groups set up rules and norms? * what about the Tragedy of the Commons and things like climate change? * should Liberals reclaim patriotism? * what role do progressive Christians have to play in fighting Christian Nationalism? (i.e. can we save the church in America?) * when is it a good idea to reach out to others with different beliefs vs. to stay in our own bubbles? What comes to mind when you think of commitment? (Fun fact: this word eliminated roughly half of the 7th grade during my middle school spelling bee.) Do you have communities or relationships where you glad you stuck it out? Or the opposite: times when you stayed too long? As always, I love to hear your thoughts (seriously, this group is the smartest comments section on the internet!) Feel free to comment publicly, or DM or email me if you’d like to share something more privately. Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Heretic Hereafter at heretichereafter.substack.com/subscribe

    6 min

  2. Jun 24

    The Scariest Thing I Have Ever Done

    My Secret Fear For someone with an anxiety disorder, I have managed to do a lot of scary stuff. Things like: moving away from my family, getting married when I was a dumb 22-year-old, moving to another country without a job or a place to live—twice! having kids, and telling a deeply personal story onstage at The Moth. But the actual Scariest Thing I’ve Ever Done was none of those things. It was self-publishing my novel last year. Maybe that sounds like not a big deal, but honestly, during the entire 6-month process I was WRECKED, mainly because I have a giant fear of other people thinking I am stupid. Yes, I was the 6th grader who toted around a leather-bound volume of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare like it was a magical talisman that could protect me from porny 90s culture which treated all femme girls like complete bimbos. Yes, despite all evidence to the contrary, there’s still a part of me that fears being reduced to my reproductive organs. This fear stockpiles my shortcomings and whispers them back to me in the middle of the night. Waiting for my novel to publish, it fed me nightmares of all my Super Smart Literary Friends reading my book and thinking, “I can’t believe she thought this was good enough to publish, she must be delusional.” The fear was strong, so much so that I SERIOUSLY CONSIDERED not publishing my book at all. Like, I announced it and then thought maybe I ought to just take it back?! Lessons from a Border Collie When I was growing up in rural Montana, we had a border collie named Mickey who, in accordance with his breeding, liked to herd other animals. Sometimes this was cute, like on hikes when he would nudge laggards onward. (Nothing like a border collie snout to the backside to make you pick up the pace.) But it was a problem when Mickey started chasing our neighbors’ horses. My dad installed one of those invisible fences around our property and put a shock collar on Mickey. When Mickey got too close to the perimeter, he’d hear a buzz, and if he kept going and crossed the fence line, he’d get a small electric shock. The trouble was, Mickey soon decided that a small, short shock was worth the price of freedom. He’d take the charge and keep right on running. Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Fear is a Fence Mickey’s shock collar came to me as I was reflecting back on fear and the scary decisions I’ve made. These past two months, we’ve been looking at the Problem of Fear—what is it? How do we learn to live with it? So far we’ve covered: -Being a Scaredy Cat -Fear of Being a Laughingstock -Sorting Out Rational vs. Irrational Fear -Fear of Travel -“Faith Over Fear” (and why I hate it) -Fear of Strangers -Fear of Hell I think fear is like that invisible fence, it keeps us close to home, stops us from exploring. Like with Mickey and the horses, that can be a good thing. But many times, our fears are a fence that is far too small, a rigid boundary that keeps us from growing. Don’t Forget: You Have Survived Worse Fear wants us to play it small, to never try. But we, like Mickey, can learn to take the shock and keep going. This is the biggest gift I’ve gotten from having an anxiety disorder: I now know that (most of) my fears are irrational and that I will survive doing the Big Scary Thing. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. So when I get scared, I try to imagine what my life would be like if I had listened to fear and “stayed inside the fence” so to speak. Would I have ever left my hometown? Met my husband? Had my kids? Had any sort of career in writing or activism? Once you decide to take the charge and keep running, you know you can do it again. And so, if fear is holding you back from something you want to do, something that would be meaningful to your life, that’s my advice to you. Embrace some corny Millennial #YOLO energy or your nearest Nike slogan and go for it. Remember that you have survived worse! Let each new feat pave the way towards a bold life. BONUS MATERIALS: -MY BOOK, in case you’re curious -want to learn more about how bad the 90s were for women? Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Heretic Hereafter at heretichereafter.substack.com/subscribe

    4 min

  3. Jun 17

    Relax, Hell isn't Real!

    Welcome new subscribers! This week, we’re continuing our series on FEAR. There’s a bit on parenting here, but if you’re looking for a more parenting-specific article, I can recommend The Extreme Weirdness of Trying to Buy a Bible for My Kids. You can also search “parenting” in the archive. Obsessing Over the Afterlife Growing up Evangelical, there were a lot of things to be afraid of, including but not limited to: * being “left behind” at the rapture * demons * tarnishing one’s purity Simultaneously, we were shamed for being afraid and told that our fear was due to a lack of faith. By far though, my biggest fear was Hell. Would I forget to confess a sin and be cast into eternal damnation? Could I “backslide” and lose my salvation? I worried about friends and loved ones and even strangers on the street. It seemed to me that no one else was taking Hell seriously enough—it was ETERNAL, after all. I wondered how my fellow churchgoers could believe in this vision of Hell and not spend every waking moment obnoxiously evangelizing every single person they met? God was love, I was often told, but God was also perfect and He demanded perfection. Trying to be perfect was the only way of ensuring I wouldn’t be condemned. God was the Big Angry Man in the Sky who was just waiting to drop the hammer on all of us. Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. A Change of Heart It took a lot of life experience, theological study, and therapy for me to admit the truth: Hell makes no sense. Penal Substitutionary Atonement (the predominant way of looking at Jesus’ crucifixion in most American churches) makes no sense, either. Once I became a parent, I could not imagine God (who is supposed to be the perfect parent) subjecting any of his children to eternal punishment or coercing them into loving him by threatening to torture them forever. I can imagine hackles rising even as I write this. If you are a believer in Hell and PSA, you probably want to stop reading right here. But I want to challenge you to consider the alternative—can you imagine how your faith and your life would be different if you let go of these beliefs? If, at the end of my article, you’re unconvinced, that’s fine. Just give me five minutes, if you please. Do All Dogs Go to Heaven? I’m not alone in doubting Hell’s existence. Christian Universalism (the idea that all people will eventually be saved) dates back at least 300 years, if not longer. (For reference, the modern belief of a Pre-Tribulation Rapture is only about 200 years old.) Author and Methodist minister, Derek Ryan Kubilus, explores the arguments for and against Hell in his book, Holy Hell: A Case Against Eternal Damnation. Kubilus examines the Bible verses commonly cited as evidence for Hell, pointing out that many English translations put a thumb on the scale. For example, certain words are sometimes translated as “Hell” and sometimes simply as “pit” or “grave.” He also points out that our modern understanding of Hell comes more from Dante’s Inferno rather than the Bible. The Ancient Jews and Greeks who were writing and reading the Bible had very different schemas of the afterlife. In Kubilus’ telling, even the Bible’s allusions to fire and brimstone aren’t about torture, they’re part of a series of metallurgical metaphors, speaking to the process of refining ore into gold rather than punishing baddies. Wait, What About Hitler? Kubilus, like some Universalists, believes in Purgatory—that is, that based on our sins, we will all be subject to some process of “refinement.” For someone like Hitler, it might take 5 million years, but eventually even he could be saved. I was surprised to find a Protestant version of Purgatory. Is it necessary? Couldn’t God just choose to forgive, like we humans do? But I admit, it does deal with the problem of justice: we don’t want people like Hitler to go to straight to Heaven, do we? It just doesn’t feel right. When You Punch Your Friend in the Face for No Reason This question of justice became real for me recently, when my 11-year-old, T, got in trouble at school for punching his friend in the face for no reason. (Ironic, given that this is the first ethical example used in Michael Schur’s How to Be Perfect, which we read last year.) T was experiencing test anxiety and he took it out on his friend. T felt horrible afterwards, and his friend forgave him, but it still felt like something was missing from the process, like the scales needed to be rebalanced—we needed… justice??? Given that T couldn’t un-punch his friend, was there a way of making things right? After talking with T, his friend, and his friend’s mom, we decided that making amends would look like a three-day screentime ban, an apology letter, and a Roblox gift card, purchased by T with his allowance. I also stressed to him that the biggest part of making amends was not repeating this behavior. This justice isn’t perfect, but I hope it does three things: * emphasize that this behavior was not okay and is out of bounds for our family & community * give T meaningful consequences that will help him not make this choice in the future * attempt to repair the relationship and reestablish trust between friends But these attempts at justice are for an ongoing relationship during, well…life. What would afterlife justice look like? I have no idea! Nobody Knows Anything Let’s be real, neither me, nor Derek Kubilus, nor the most obnoxious street preacher you’ve ever met actually knows what happens after we die. We won’t until it happens. It’s incumbent on us to be humble about our beliefs, no matter how strongly held they are—we could always be wrong! Maybe the afterlife is closer to The Good Place. Maybe we’re reincarnated. Maybe we just stop existing or maybe we rejoin the universal life force. I didn’t believe in any sort of afterlife when my brother, Karl, two years ago. Then I had a weird experience with a bald eagle that made me less certain. What Can We Know? What I do know is that there are people living in Hell right now. Addiction is Hell. War is Hell. Divorce is Hell. Serious disease is Hell. I wish the church would triage the suffering people are currently experiencing rather than some far-off Hell that probably won’t happen. What I know is that all “right” beliefs must lead to increasing love of others and ourselves. When I believed in Hell and that I needed to “save” people from it, I saw them as numbers, not full humans with rich inner lives, not equals who could teach me as much as I could teach them. Not people I ought to get to know and form relationships with. And yes, #NotAllEvangelists, but I gotta say, most evangelism efforts I’ve been part of have felt more transactional rather than relational. Christianity Without Hell When I was an Evangelical, avoiding Hell was the whole point. I was a Christian because of my fear. You may think that without the threat of Hell, most people will stop being Christian. You may be right. But is believing in Jesus solely for purposes of Hell avoidance really the kind of spirituality we want to encourage? For me, letting go of the fear of Hell has opened a whole new world. I can choose to run towards rather than away from something. I am learning more about my interconnectedness with others, with the natural world, and with God. I am more open to learning from people whose beliefs differ from my own. And that’s a journey I can recommend to anyone. Do you believe in Hell? An afterlife? Why/why not? Have you ever had any FREAKY WOO-WOO EXPERIENCES after a loved one’s passing? As always, I love to hear your thoughts. questions, rants, and ramblings in the comments, via DM, or email. BONUS MATERIALS: * ughhhh this article about YET ANOTHER scammy Seattle megachurch * Happy Pride Y’all (slightly NSFW) * Where my Love Island fans at? Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Heretic Hereafter at heretichereafter.substack.com/subscribe

    7 min

  4. Jun 10

    'Stranger Danger' is B******t

    I was out with a group of mom friends recently when the conversation turned to how much we have to schlep our kids around—driving/walking them to school, to sports practice, to lessons and day camps. There was broad consensus that: * we hate it * it feels mandatory as “good moms” AND * we wonder whether our kids could…just maybe…be a little more independent? This last point was uttered cautiously, as if everyone was reading the room, terrified of being judged. And with good reason. All too often maternal suffering feels like a competition; if you’re not having a bad time, you must not be doing enough. And don’t your precious little babies deserve EVERYTHING? Moms are expected to make sacrifices to our careers, personal interests, and even our health in order to ensure that our offspring are protected from every imaginable risk AND maintain dominance in the extracurricular arms race. The end goal of this is… unclear. Harvard, I guess? Some magical career that will guarantee a comfortable, middle-class life with zero upheaval? Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Arrested for Leaving Her Kid Alone in a Car Author Kim Brooks knows firsthand the consequences of being judged a “bad mom”—after leaving her preschooler in the car for 5 minutes while she ran into a store, Virginia police put out a warrant for her arrest. This led to a two-year legal tussle, which she admits, could’ve been much worse if she weren’t white and middle-class. At first, Brooks kept her legal problems a secret. She felt weirdly ashamed even as she recognized, logically, that her son had been perfectly safe. It was a cool day; she’d cracked the windows. She could see the car from the checkout counter, for crying out loud! But when she began sharing the issue with friends, the mommy judgment machine went into high gear. Again and again, people told her she should never have left her son alone, not even for a minute, because of the risk of STRANGER DANGER, “anything could have happened” was a common refrain. Reality Check Brooks chronicles this saga and the wider panic around American childhood in her book, Small Animals: Parenthood in the Age of Fear. In it, Brooks interrogates many of our modern parenting fears, including the obsession with Stranger Danger. She notes that stranger abductions make up a mere 3% of all child disappearances (many of which are parental abductions, runaways, or simply kids who are lost for a few hours.) American historian Steven Mintz has called Stranger Danger a moral panic, saying that, following economic upheaval in the 70s, “Focusing concern on threats to children may have provided a solution to this psychological dilemma [of job insecurity and growing wealth inequality.] Anxiety about the future could be expressed in terms of concerns for children’s safety.” Brooks adds that focusing all one’s energy on children’s safety rather than an uncertain economy, “feels more manageable.” How Stranger Danger Harms Kids The practical effects of the Stranger Danger moral panic were a vast reduction in childhood independence. Whereas kids in previous generations often walked or biked themselves places and organized their own games and pastimes with other neighborhood kids, nowadays there seem to be two options available to children: overscheduling hell or screen zombiedom. Case in point: my 11-year-old wants to learn to skateboard. If he were living in a different country or a different era, I’d drop him off at the local skatepark (or, even better, tell him to bus there himself) and let him hang out with older kids who could show him the ropes. But the skateparks near us sit empty most of the time, unless someone is being directly supervised (and, let’s be honest, nitpicked) by a parent or there’s a skateboard day camp ($$$) in session. Today’s kids are rarely unsupervised. This lack of independence hurts kids. It makes them more anxious and worse at handling interpersonal conflicts. And having adults hovering nearby prevents kids from gaining self-efficacy (a feeling that they can handle challenges and influence their environment.) And self-efficacy, it turns out, is one of the biggest preventive factors for kids developing drug and alcohol addiction. How Stranger Danger Harms Adults It’s not just kids who suffer the effects of this moral panic, I think it’s a huge contributor to what I call the “Parenting Misery Spiral”: the more that parents must do for their kids, the less time they have for basic self-care, hobbies, and maintaining romantic and friend relationships. Children act out because no one likes feeling controlled, and parents are exhausted and miserable. Is it any wonder why so many people are opting out of having kids when parenting looks like such an awful slog? And the fewer people who have kids, the more having kids becomes seen as a “lifestyle choice” like pet ownership or an expensive hobby, rather than something necessary for a functioning society. In many largely child-free cities like Seattle, parents and kids feel unwelcome in public spaces (or even in apartment buildings) leading to further isolation. How We Fight Unnecessary Panic I know all this, and yet I’m not immune from the fearmongering. My 13-year-old son is one of the few kids in his school who doesn’t have a phone, something I feel great about until he gets lost riding the city bus, which has happened several times this year. In a city with multiple open-air drug markets and a large number of unhoused, mentally ill people, it’s easy to panic when my son is not home on time. Luckily, my husband talks me down when I start frantically researching tracking devices. I’m glad because my son’s confidence has really grown since he’s been able to get himself where he needs to be. He’s even started having more spontaneous, after-school hangouts with friends, which is a huge win for all of us! A Caveat I don’t teach my kids about Stranger Danger. I tell them that 95% of strangers are kind people who would help them if they got lost. The one exception to that is that I think kids need to know how to spot someone who’s not in their right mind. Big city kids learn: we do not make eye contact or talk with folks who are tweaking, muttering to themselves, or otherwise seem off. But that dude staring at his cellphone? He’s fine. That mom with a stroller? Great choice. The bus driver? Helping is part of his job! My own lived experience (including several pre-smart phone years getting lost on transit) has shown me that most strangers are kind and willing to help, especially if it’s a kid. Advice For Setting Your Kids Free What if you want your kid to be more independent but you’re scared of judgment or, God forbid, someone calling the cops? Here are a few tips: * Resist fearmongering. Bone up on a couple of stats and reassure your friends. Remind them about what used to be normal! * Scaffold independence. Kids don’t walk themselves to school overnight. Teach them how to cross the street safely, practice walking with them, then practice hanging back a block or two, until it’s enough to wave them goodbye. * Observe neighborhood norms. Is there a particular age where free-ranging kids are generally accepted? If your neighbor kids are going to the store independently at 12, can you work backwards and figure out some appropriate milestones like walking to a friend’s house or playing without grownups at the park? This will also depend on your kid’s personality and abilities. I emphasize to my kids that being dependable = a longer leash. * Get a group together. If your kid walking alone makes you nervous, can you draft a buddy? A group of kids? Can younger siblings tag along with older ones? * Know your rights. If you’re harassed by police or “well meaning” citizens (as Kim Brooks was) groups like Let Grow and Lenore Skenazy’s Free-Range Kids can offer advice. They also have other great resources on their sites! A Final Thought I’ve spent the past several weeks thinking and writing about fear and how we respond to it. Do we run towards it? Away? Pretend it’s not happening? One of Kim Brooks’ quote about over-researching things that scare you struck me as very wise: “Knowing, as anyone with an anxiety disorder can tell you, is one step away from controlling.” Her point is, of course, that we can’t control what’s going to happen to our kids. We can’t protect them from everything, nor should we. At the end of the day, kids are other humans who are only temporarily in our care. BONUS MATERIALS: * curious about self-efficacy and preventing addiction in kids? Jessica Lahey is my go-to resource * want some parenting newsletters that are reassuring and funny instead of judgy and scary? Pretend You're Good At It and Middle-Aged Lady Mom are two of my favs! Get full access to Heretic Hereafter at heretichereafter.substack.com/subscribe

    8 min

  5. Jun 3

    Why "Faith Over Fear" T-Shirts Creep Me Out

    I think it happened a few months into the pandemic: I started seeing the phrase “faith over fear” popping up everywhere. It was in social media bios, on protest signs, and emblazoned across t-shirts. The phrase’s ubiquity seemed to correlate with anti-lockdown and anti-vaccine protests. While the phrase in itself could mean many things, to this day if I happen to see a person wearing this tee, I tend to assume “they are probably not vaccinated.” It’s like the inverse of one of those “In this house we believe” yard signs that sprung up all over Seattle after Trump was first elected. Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. The Merging of Political Party & Religion It’s tragic that COVID safety measures became so quickly polarized. I wonder how many lives were unnecessarily lost because wearing masks and getting vaccinated became associated with being liberal. I still believe that if we’d been able to have productive dialogue, we might have reached a middle ground on things like school reopenings. Instead, each side dug in their heels, painting the other as completely unreasonable. “Faith over fear” feels of a piece with the Christian Nationalism that is ascendant in our current administration. It feels untethered to reality, as if magical thinking can protect us from bad things happening. It’s like those unsympathetic church ladies who tell you that your cancer or car accident is “part of God’s will” and that your dead grandma is “in a better place.” Or maybe the phrase is a justification to do whatever you want wrapped in bad theology: people will die, but probably not me, so who cares? The Two Types of Freedom I remember learning in high school government class that there are two types of freedom: freedom to and freedom from. i.e. if any rando has the freedom to own an assault rifle that means some of us won’t have the freedom from being shot. Freedom from masking might mean others don’t have the freedom to survive COVID. I’m not saying it’s an easy calculus. Life is packed with risks that we as both a society and as individuals choose to mitigate or ignore. The same CDC that pushed masking also strongly suggests you never consume raw cookie dough. Riding in a car is one of the most dangerous things many of us do every day and never think about. Is there a spiritual yardstick we can use to assess risk? Are there some lessons from the Bible that can help us determine when fear is a reasonable response? The Bible on Fear… The Bible talks about fear often. “Fear not!” is one of its most-repeated commands, often uttered by some kind of angel/supernatural being to apparently terrified mortals. Yet this reassurance is contrasted with oft-quoted Proverbs 9:10, “Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” So which is it? Fear God or fear not? Should we just have faith that everything will work the way we want it to just because we’re Christians? (And obviously bad things never happen to Christians!) …Is Profoundly Misunderstood As I set out to explore fear as a topic, reader Darla recommended the book How Not to Be Afraid: Seven Ways to Live When Life Feels Terrifying, by Gareth Higgins. Higgins knows fear well, having grown up queer in Belfast during The Troubles. In this wise little book he covers a gamut of fears from rejection to death. I really enjoyed this book (the audio version is read by the author, in a beautiful lilting accent.) I’ll probably buy a hardcopy so I can vigorously highlight and reread, but what struck me on first listen were two points: * The verse “Fear of God is the beginning of wisdom” is profoundly misunderstood. Higgins writes: “It doesn’t mean that there’s a scary, bearded guy in the sky who loves you so much that he will kill you if you don’t agree with him. It means that becoming wise begins with honoring reality. There’s a healthy way to be afraid that helps us live better and an unhealthy one that makes us sick. There’s a well-worn, but sometimes hidden, path that can help us discern the difference.” (emphasis mine.) As someone who grew up with alcoholics and saw first-hand the destruction of denial, this idea of “honoring reality” strikes me as wise. We can’t get anywhere unless we are willing to face things as they are, even when it is scary or hard. And having discarded my own ideas of God as a “scary bearded guy” I like thinking of God in these more abstract terms: God is ultimate reality, God is the love that underpins the universe. God as the source of all creation. * That “Our fears are reactions to the stories we believe.” Higgins is a big believer in examining our stories. Why do we fear this thing? What are we telling ourselves about it? Is it possible another story is true? It’s not that we should never be afraid of anything, rather, we have to hold the hand of fear and bring it to reality, asking ourselves: is this thing I’m afraid of actually that scary? On Discerning the Difference Yet all this wisdom is often easier to hear than implement. In the case of COVID, it was difficult to figure out what reality actually was. Was COVID “just another flu”? Or was it a catastrophic, world-altering event? Much of peoples’ individual responses hinged on how they answered that question. To make a play on a George Carlin quote, “Have you ever noticed that anybody who masks more than you is an idiot, and everyone who masks less is a lunatic?” Much of the trouble with COVID was its novelty. Scientists were doing their best to give us good information, some of which proved useful (social distancing, masks) and some of which didn’t (wiping down groceries, zoom school.) Perhaps in situations where we don’t have the full information, all we can do is give each other grace and try our best. Yes, grace. Even for those wearing “faith over fear” tees. What do you think of “faith over fear”? Am I alone in thinking this is an antivax shirt? Looking back on COVID, what do you think we should’ve/could’ve done differently? As always, I love to hear feedback from readers in the comments, via email, or DM. Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Heretic Hereafter at heretichereafter.substack.com/subscribe

    6 min

  6. May 27

    Everything I Feared About China Was Wrong

    When my husband’s friend invited us to his wedding in Chongqing, China, I was hesitant to RSVP in the affirmative. It was far and plane tickets were expensive, but mainly I was anxious. China’s government is scary, right? I’d read plenty of news reports about government corruption and the lack of due process, not to mention the Uygur genocide. I’ve long followed the career of Chinese dissident artist, Ai Weiwei, and was horrified at his arrest for making art criticizing the government’s response to the Great Sichuan Earthquake. Even discounting my probably irrational fear of disappearing into a Chinese prison, I worried about more mundane things: government surveillance, unsafe drinking water, a language barrier Duolingo couldn’t even, and I did I mention squat toilets? While my husband and I have been lucky enough to travel extensively in Europe, China felt like quite a leap. Some family members privately nudged us to skip the wedding, or at least leave our kids safely behind in the U.S. Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. My anxiety was not unique. In his book, Travel as a Political Act, Europe guide and certified baddie Rick Steves notes that when people left for a trip, we used to say things like “bon voyage” and “have a good trip.” Post 9/11, we’re more likely to say things like “be safe”—as if to imply that the world is more dangerous than ever, when the truth is, a person is over 30,000 times more likely to die in a car accident than in a terrorist attack. You’re probably safer walking in a foreign city than you are driving around your hometown. Despite my fears, the Millennial #YOLOs got the better of me. We booked the tickets. In the meantime, I tried to calm my anxiety by panic buying travel gear. As I prepared, I thought about Scott Samuelson’s framing of the three ways of dealing with pointless suffering: fix it, face it, or forget it. I wondered if these approaches applied to fear: you can deny your feelings (forget it), you can try to learn more to alleviate your fear (fix it), or you can simply accept your fear (face it.) In my usual fashion, I opted for a combination of fix it/face it. On the research front, there was little information for American tourists visiting Chongqing. While it’s a city of 30 million people, most tourists tend to be Chinese tour groups visiting old communist sites. YouTube was my main source of info, but even American vloggers’ takes felt somewhat dystopian as video after video proclaimed, “I love how there are cameras absolutely everywhere, it’s SO SAFE!” A friend who had traveled to China confirmed some eerie “coincidences” that led her to the conviction she was being surveilled during her trip. My husband and I prepared as best we could, scrubbing our phones of sensitive information, packing portable soap and toilet paper, reminding our kids to drink only the bottled water the hotel provided. And then there was nothing to do but face my fears. And? China was totally different than I expected. As I dined, shopped, and visited a kitschy theme park, I was reminded: people are people everywhere. It’s easy to get hung up on culture clashes, but our commonalities are much greater than our differences. No matter where I’ve traveled to, I’ve met people who are excited to share their culture and food, people who will stop to help a clueless tourist find her way. There was the proprietress of a noodle stand who spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make sure I understood the different spice levels of a dish, and a bunch of excited kids at a theme park who wanted to chat with us in English. At our friend’s wedding, Chinese uncles plied us with alcohol, and hotpot waitresses babysat us as we failed to comprehend proper cooking times. During times of political strife, Americans often stoke each others’ fear of traveling. We imagine whole countries of people who hate us. We joke about sewing Canadian flag patches to our backpacks or think we need to introduce ourselves by apologizing for our president. But in my experience, people generally understand that we are not our government. In turn, we ought to remember that others are not their government, either. These person-to-person connections are what makes travel, as Rick Steves puts it, “a political act.” It’s a lot harder to vote to bomb a country once you’ve met its people. Travel puts us in touch with all of our wonderful commonalities: desire for beauty, for safety, for community, for reverence. And still travel offers novelty and surprise! Here are some things in China that surprised me: * -people offering my 13 -year-old son alcohol (repeatedly!) * -many people asking to take our photos because white people were exciting * -all the bathrooms had toilet paper! (but yes, most were squat toilets) * -an abundance of high-protein snacks * -a Chinese drag queen performance at the theme park * -taxis driving wherever they felt like (ditto motorcycles on the sidewalks) * -Don’t speak Chinese? You can get pretty far just pointing and nodding, Google Translate also worked in a pinch. BONUS MATERIALS: * -looking for more travel inspo? I loved this post by friend of the Stack, Skylar Renslow * -this comedian parses cultural differences to hilarious results * Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Heretic Hereafter at heretichereafter.substack.com/subscribe

    5 min

  7. May 20

    How to Make Friends with Fear

    Maybe you’re thinking to yourself: why would I want to do that? Maybe that phrasing strikes you as odd. Don’t we want to get rid of fear? It’s not only an unpleasant feeling, it’s one that we judge ourselves for. We want to see ourselves as brave, so we try to ignore or resist feeling fear. The trouble is, the more you try to resist an emotion, the stronger it gets. Our bodies were designed to keep us alive, not happy, so the more you try to push away your fear, the stronger it will become. The trick, then, is recognizing and accepting our fear. But…how? Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. The Four T’s of Snakebites Growing up in Western Montana, part of being in the outdoors was preparing for encounters with wildlife such as grizzly bears, mountain lions, and snakes. As a camp counselor, I took classes in wilderness first aid, where I asked many questions about snake bites, being VERY SCARED of stepping on a rattler enroute to the bath house in the middle of the night. The instructor laughed at my questions. “You want to know what to watch out for so you don’t get bit by a snake? Let me tell you.” He pivoted towards the white board and wrote: “AVOID: * trailer parks * tank tops * testosterone * tequila” His assessment was rather classist (#notalltrailerparks) but the point was that most people who get bit by snakes are those who deliberately mess with snakes. Their innate fear had been lessened by peer pressure and/or alcohol. The results were predictable. Fear is a powerful emotion that exists deep in the most primitive part of our brains. It’s the same part of your brain that makes you jerk your hand away from a hot stove. The response is designed to be quick, bypassing the logical, slow part of our brain. The truth is: we need fear. Tigers vs. Trump But what if the thing you fear isn’t a wild animal hidden in the grass, but something slow, vague, and chronic, like the erosion of our democracy by a wannabe dictator? You can’t physically jump away from fear like that. Such modern-day fears can be overwhelming and leave you feeling powerless, which is, honestly, the goal of Trump’s whole “flood the zone” strategy. In their book, Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking Stress Cycle, Emily and Amelia Nagoski take this kind of chronic stress and break down what our bodies need to recover from it. They point out that our bodies don’t know the difference between a tiger hiding in the grass and your boss yelling at you. In either scenario, our “stress cycle” is activated and we need to complete it by doing things like: * moving our bodies * venting to a loved one * restoring a sense of physical safety Fear Isn’t a Virtue During the pandemic, I spent a lot of time talking through my fears with my EMDR therapist. It felt like our country was on the brink and I had no faith in the Trump administration to adequately deal with the many problems we were facing. My therapist pushed back, “How is this affecting your life?” Every time I brought up death rates or product shortages or civil unrest, she asked me to refocus on myself. And I had to admit, my family were healthy, I had what I needed, my neighborhood was safe. Sure, it was a pain in the ass that my kids weren’t in school, but all in all, we were very lucky. Sometimes Liberals fall into the trap of thinking that fear is virtuous. “If you’re not angry, you’re not paying attention,” is a common refrain. But caring about a problem and letting it dominate your emotional life are two very different things. It’s a privileged take to say that I can choose to tap in and out of problems that others are facing chronically, but it’s also a means of survival. We are not useful allies if we are overwhelmed and unable to handle ourselves. The bottom line is: everyone needs safety and rest. Lightning Round! So, we need to identify and accept fear. We need to calm our bodies. We need to let ourselves recognize safety. But what if we can’t stop ruminating? Here’s a grab bag of other tricks I’ve learned to let go of fear. * Stick with statistics. What are the odds of that thing you’re fearing actually happening? Whenever parents in my neighborhood start freaking out about imaginary child abductions, I remind them that, statistically, the odds of your child being kidnapped by a stranger is about 1 in 1,000,000. Your child is more likely to become president, so maybe focus on preparing them for that. * Look for “thinking traps.” This one comes courtesy of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. Check your fear for one of the following misbeliefs: * Label intrusive thoughts. When you’re driving, do you ever have the sudden fear that an oncoming car is going to swerve into your lane? Congratulations, that’s an intrusive thought, which is a fun feature of some anxiety disorders! When I envision a grim scenario like this, I’ve learned to just say “that’s an intrusive thought, not reality,” and then let it go. * Remember that, to your body, fear and excitement are the same. This is an especially good strategy for stage fright. When I used to get scared before a storytelling show, I’d remind myself that the adrenaline flooding my system was helping time feel slower and sharpening my senses, which would aid my performance. * Personify your fear. Just like in Inside Out! Thank it for keeping you safe, but ask it to step back for now. * Make a “God Jar” for things you can’t control. Whenever you’re anxious about some outcome you can’t control, write it on a slip of paper and put it in a container. Once it’s in the container, you’re not allowed to worry about it anymore. (And no, you don’t have to use the G-word if that’s triggering.) Read through the slips once or twice a year and marvel at all the things you used to worry about that don’t actually matter to you anymore! Have you ever used one of these tricks to deal with fear? How did it go? Are there are other tricks we should know about? As always, I love to hear from you in the comments, via DM, or email! Did you find this post helpful? Help others find it by clicking the “heart” button and/or sharing it with a friend. BONUS MATERIALS: * this 2-minute explainer on the stress cycle * JUST WATCH THIS, YOU’LL THANK ME Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Heretic Hereafter at heretichereafter.substack.com/subscribe

    6 min

  8. May 13

    What Will People Think?

    Early in my blogging career, I pitched my first-ever interview. I wanted to ask a local butcher about ethical meat buying. In emails, he seemed eager for the exposure. I don’t know if he checked out my itty-bitty blog before agreeing, what I do know is that I walked in with my notebook, recorder, and my toddler son in a stroller, the butcher took one look at us and doubled over laughing. I’m not exaggerating—he laughed at me for an uncomfortably long time. Long enough for my patient smile to fall off my face. Long enough for a thousand doubts to swirl through my mind: who was I to call myself a writer when I couldn’t even afford a babysitter? I was a fraud and a failure and just a mom. Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. In that moment, all I wanted was to turn around and wheel my stroller back out the door. Being laughed at is, I believe, a universal fear that drives many of our decisions. It’s why public speaking is so scary and why picking out new clothes or a haircut can feel dire. Deeper than that, fear of being laughed at is the reason many of us avoid pursuing things we’re passionate about. We don’t want to look like idiots or weirdos. We don’t want to be gossiped about or excluded from the group. You want to do…what? Getting laughed at during my first professional interview was what came to mind as I watched the documentary Maintenance Artist at Seattle International Film Festival this past weekend. The film explores the career of Mierle Laderman Ukeles, a visual artist who, upon entering motherhood, pivoted from sculpture to developing the idea of “maintenance art”—reframing acts like cleaning and care work as art. The documentary traces Ukeles’ evolution from invisible housewife to the creation of her Manifesto for Maintenance Art, which ties in the personal, professional, and environmental importance of maintenance. In documenting these overlooked forms of work, Ukeles elevates them to something worthy of notice and praise. In order to make these artworks, Ukeles had to risk being laughed out of the New York art scene. As you can see in the clip above, at first, many of her collaborators did not take her seriously. She had to be the first believer in her own work. What would you do if you were not afraid to fail? It’s cliche to ask, but how many of us hold ourselves back out of fear? The Stoics, as always, have a bit of advice here. They break the world into two categories: things you can control and things you can’t. And they squarely locate “reputation” in the category of things outside one’s control. When this fear arises, they advise refocusing on something you can control, like your own actions. In the immortal words of Marcus Aurelius: haters gonna hate. That day in the butcher’s shop, I fended off the urge to flee. Instead, I calmly waited for my interview subject to get ahold of himself. Finally, he stopped laughing. Then we went into his office and I conducted the interview. My son was quietly absorbed in his toy and did not disrupt the interview, as I knew he wouldn’t. At home, I wrote up my article and shared the link with the butcher, who thanked me profusely. He never broached his awkward laughter, but I hoped as he bragged about the interview on his social media, he learned his lesson. Here’s the thing with trying something new: you never know where it will lead. I couldn’t have known that that first, embarrassing interview would eventually lead to me writing articles for local and national publications, or to a career as an author. It’s terrifying to stick your neck out. People might laugh at you, they might ask, “Who the hell does she think she is?” But here’s what I know: you can survive it. And the more you’re able to overcome the low opinions of others, the more your confidence will grow, until the idea of being laughed at isn’t so scary anymore. Is there anything that fear is holding you back from doing? What would it look like if you failed? What about if you succeeded? Imagine you’re 90 years old, would you regret trying or not trying more? BONUS MATERIALS: * in case you want to geek out more about Ukeles. (She’s also discussed in Angela Garbes’ excellent Essential Labor) * this glorious anthem of losers who try hard! Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Heretic Hereafter at heretichereafter.substack.com/subscribe

    4 min
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About

Heretic Hereafter is about figuring out how to live the good life after leaving Evangelical Christianity. Whether you're religious or not, join us for a weekly dose of humor and reflection that helps us look past the superficial for life's deeper meanings. heretichereafter.substack.com

Information

  • Creator
    Katharine Strange
  • Years Active
    2025 - 2026
  • Episodes
    60
  • Rating
    Explicit
  • Copyright
    © Katharine Strange
  • Show Website
    Heretic Hereafter Podcast