One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned in life is that reassessing your beliefs is not the same thing as caving to pressure. It’s not cowardice. It’s not compromise; it’s growth.
Throughout life, we should be constantly examining our positions and our direction. We move toward a value we believe in, and often that value leads us into a particular identity or movement. But years later, we sometimes realize that we’ve stopped pursuing the value itself and instead have been clinging to the symbol of it; the identity badge, the group membership, the flag we wave. At that point, we face a choice. Do we double down on the symbol because it gives us belonging, or do we reassess, make corrections, and return to the balance point of our convictions?
I’ve had to do this many times.
My Religious Shifts
In one season of my life, I was highly religious. I believed whatever my mentors, preachers, and teachers told me. I read only what they gave me in my evangelical world, and I accepted it as truth. Over time, though, through learning and exposure to people who thought differently, the cracks began to show. I couldn’t reconcile the contradictions and errors I saw in the Biblical text. I struggled with the picture of an angry, vengeful God who didn’t look much different from the gods of Olympus.
So, I moved away. I embraced the opposite. For a time, I rejected the faith altogether. I even became resentful toward the leaders who had taught me, feeling that they had lied to me or intentionally misled me and others. My pendulum swung hard.
But reassessment pulled me back again. While I still cannot embrace inerrancy or a tribal, exclusionary God, I have rediscovered a love and admiration for Jesus himself. His life, his teachings, and his way of compassion have reshaped me. I can honestly say I am a disciple of him and his words.
Leaving the church was not easy. I was rejected by family members who still see me as someone who needs to be “won back.” That was painful. But reassessing later and moving toward a new balance wasn’t easy either. It required me to face the risk of being misunderstood again, this time from both sides.
The Trap of Polarization
This pattern shows up in more than just religion. In every area of life, politics, culture, and education, we fall into polarization. We mistake holding firm for never reassessing. But human growth requires constant reevaluation.
Take abortion, for example. The political debate is framed in terms of enemies and allies, but really, both sides are motivated by competing values. On the right, it is about human life. On the left, it is about autonomy. Both life and autonomy are exceptional human values. To demonize one side and sanctify the other gets us nowhere. If we started by acknowledging that both values matter deeply, perhaps we could finally have a real discussion about how to live together in a pluralistic society.
If you are in the majority, you must still value the minority. Because one day, in another context, you may be the minority.
My Journey with DEI
The same reassessment has happened in how I think about diversity, equity, and inclusion.
When I was younger, I believed, like many Christians, that Jesus died for everyone equally. But beneath that, I still carried a sense that I and other Christians were “special,” uniquely favored by God. Later, I realized how wrong that was. I began to fully embrace diversity, seeing it as a corrective measure to my self-righteous narrowness. I bought in deeply to the DEI movement. In hiring, I stratified my faculty and staff by categories of race, sexuality, and identity. I made sure to check boxes, sometimes at the expense of qualifications, character, or a strong work ethic.
At the time, it felt like the right thing. But over time, I realized I had drifted far from my original value of diversity and respect for all. I had started embracing a philosophy that discriminated against people for being light-skinned, male, or holding traditional family values. I thought it was acceptable because the culture around me said it was necessary. But it wasn’t diversity, it was another form of exclusion.
Words like “fragile” or “oppressive” used to describe entire groups based on skin color began to strike me as deeply offensive. I began to see how ideas like critical race theory, intersectionality, and antiracism, while born out of good intentions, were inflaming passions and deepening divides rather than healing them.
So, I reassessed again. And that reassessment has cost me.
Rejection from Both Sides
When you move back toward the center, you will take fire from both sides. The right still sees me as having abandoned them, because I embrace people they oppose: transgender individuals, gay and lesbian couples, Muslims, and others. The left sees me as an old white man who must be nostalgic for a darker past.
To them, reassessment looks like regression
But maybe the center really is the right place to be. From the center, I can hear both sides. I can understand values on the left and values on the right. And I can call out the distortions on both ends.
A Call to Reassess
My charge is simple: reassess. Reexamine your beliefs, your politics, your values. Do not cling to an identity or ideology just because it gives you comfort or belonging. Live authentically, according to the deeper values that sustain human community: life, autonomy, dignity, compassion, respect.
If more of us can find our way to the center, we can hold one another accountable. We can resist the pull of hyperbole. We can start listening to people instead of parroting talking points and reposting memes that further polarize our neighbors and those whom we love. Let’s stop following social media algorithms and reassess the direction of the values that underlie our convictions.
Reassessment is not cowering. It is courage. It is the way forward.