it's those damned heathens, those Satanists, those hedonistic crazies who care for no one but themselves, everyone who does not ascribe to the doctrine of Jesus Christ. it's their fault. they should leave us alone & just take the HOV lane to hell already. then the world would be a better place. then it'd be God's kingdom on earth. city on the hill & all that.
right?
so wrong. so very, very wrong.
author justin lee pens an eloquent piece for the huffington post,
"When Christians are Christianity's Worst Enemies," & in it explains how even something seemingly small, such as a post-meal gratuity, can tip the scales of an individual's hurt for or against the faith. in case we haven't caught on to this yet, today's newflash: in American culture, a large number of Christians have so vociferously demanded the social spotlight, & thus every single action we take is also scrutinized. think no one's looking when you snap at the ungrateful child who rolled her eyes at you? think again.
i've seen this kind of behavior on so many levels, & Christians have dealt some of the most devastating pain i've ever experienced. me. a "fellow believer." & it was all because i didn't believe exactly the same way & didn't fit into a mold & felt that i needed to do what was right for me. i'd come to embrace them as family, those who would love me for who i was. we nurtured one another; communing in our walk with Christ was our #1 priority. & then they cast me out. it was years before i could speak to any of them again, & it's a topic with which i've wrestled over the years, gradually healing through prayer & therapy. however, i still struggle with corporate worship. i know i am responsible for reconstructing my faith in others, & it breaks my heart that this remains a great trial for me. i'll admit it; though i am a Christian, the people i find hardest to trust? other Christians.
however, as with everything else, this is much bigger than tiny, little me.
many years ago, an acquaintance committed suicide at a young age. there was much going on in his life, & his pain was exasperated by a constant rain of judgement & hatred, leveled against him by the very people who defined themselves as followers of a loving God. i remember getting the message. freshman year. sitting in my dorm. slammed with disbelief that something like this could happen. i kept telling myself, "but i
know him. this doesn't happen to people i
know." & then the power of past tense set in: i
knew him. there was no way i could
know him anymore. i cried.
the amount of self-loathing he'd felt... & i never helped him. i'd always thought that he was very sweet & kind, incredibly talented. different? yes. stood out? yes. & yet oddly invisible to me? yes. to this day, i still wish i'd intentionally sought him out & tried to build a real friendship, as opposed to just tossing about the requisite hello upon passing in the hallway. i wish i'd been brave enough to live the faith that i so publicly ascribed to. i'm ashamed to say that i didn't even try.
it saddens me to know that we (yes, i know that i mess up & at times become engulfed in my own self-righteousness) Christians become
*so* possessive of the Gospel that we forget its very meaning. rather than being the embodiment of the compassion & love that were so graciously given us, we style ourselves enforcers, privileged & above the damnation that those
other people so obviously "deserve." & that's what it's really about: possession, the "other," & fear.
every group is guilty of saying it. "we can't invite
those kids to the party, not the
real one anyway, not with a
real invitation. they might make it crazy, it won't be like it's
supposed to be, it'll be different, & we won't understand it. we'll just do our due diligence &
say something about it;
they can figure it out on their own.
we will follow the Great Commission, but we'll do it our way. then we won't have to get our hands dirty..."
here's the kicker, kids: we don't
own the Gospel. no one does. we don't get a say in who can come to the party & who can't. we're not the One throwing this barbecue-to-end-all-barbecues; we're guests called to
genuinely,
happily share the welcome with as many people as possible because the Host wants a packed house. just as the
He as Human bravely faced down our most wretchedly-deserved condemnation, we are to confront our weaknesses & fear, casting them aside & embracing those different, those same, those unfamiliar, those well-known. He never appointed any one of us cosmic bouncer. after all, if we spend the whole time standing at the door, we're never mingling,
sharing the joy, laughter, & eternal love with which we're intended to be graced.
