A Blessing Machine

In my last post, I mentioned the idea that truth is truth regardless of who says it and why, an idea which is quite powerful and carries some significant implications for how I approach the world. This relates quite strongly to another characteristic of truth which I rediscovered tonight: when you stumble upon truth, whether by design or by accident, it will punch you in the face. By this I mean that when you happen upon truth, you won't be able to miss it or ignore it. Truth has this funny habit of making itself known.

One of the topics I've written on again and again in this space is my consistent frustration with what the word Christianity means in the 21st Century, and with what church has become in this era. I'm sure you've read and heard and witnessed many of the same things that I have...churches condemning the entirety of the gay community in a debate over what the word marriage means, religious leaders acting as though Jesus wants us to vote for one political party over another, and so on. I don't want to bore you with examples. Available by request, I'll say.

So, About Tucker

Lest anyone think I was too hard on poor Mr. Carlson (or not hard enough) in my last submission, I want to follow up with a bit of clarification and expansion of what I previously wrote. Don't worry, I'm not going back on anything I said before. Rather, I want to make sure it is clear where I am coming from.

Recently I have been rereading one of my favorite books, Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. Seemingly every day that I read it, something jumps out at me worth writing about and commenting on in this space. But that would be annoying and you know it, so I refrain. You can thank me later.

Author Quits Christianity?

Author Anne Rice, whose works include "Interview with a Vampire", has decided that she is quitting Christianity; not quitting Christ, but quitting the church. I certainly cannot blame her, and it is quite interesting that CNN would pick up this story so quickly, but more on my thoughts later. Here are the barebones of the story, per CNN.

"[Rice], who wrote a book about her spirituality titled "Called Out of Darkness: A Spiritual Confession" in 2008, said Wednesday that she refuses to be "anti-gay", "anti-feminist", "anti-science" and "anti-Democrat".

Rice wrote, "For those who care, and I understand if you don't: Today I quit being a Christian ... It's simply impossible for me to 'belong' to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I've tried. I've failed. I'm an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else."

"My faith in Christ is central to my life. My conversion from a pessimistic atheist lost in a world I didn't understand, to an optimistic believer in a universe created and sustained by a loving God is crucial to me," Rice wrote. "But following Christ does not mean following His followers. Christ is infinitely more important than Christianity and always will be, no matter what Christianity is, has been or might become."

I point this out not because there is anything more significant about Anne Rice than anyone else, but rather because it reflects a similar thought process that I have been finding my way through. Just as Anne experienced, my conscience will not allow me to be a rank and file "Christian": supporting all the popular causes, backing all of the religious-claiming candidates, perpetuating prejudice and judgment toward people who do not believe what I believe. Jesus did not judge or ridicule imperfect people. He loved them. Clearly going to church does not make you like Jesus, in the same way that sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken. I have instead chosen to distance myself from following the lead of mainstream, fundamentalist American Christianity.

I refuse to be a single issue voter.
I will not throw my lot in with a single political party.
I am unwilling to judge those who have different beliefs than mine.
My place is not to look down on 'sinners' or feign perfection.
I enjoy being around salt of the earth, honest, screwed up people.

Like Anne, I too am an outsider to much of the Christian community, but this is not something I am ashamed of or concerned with. My reaction to being an outsider is to seek a middle ground between myself and the ubiquitous entity that is known as 'church'. As I search for ways to love people and work for the good of humanity and remove judgment like Jesus did, I hope to see 'church' - and churchy people - do the same. But until that common ground is located I am going to try to follow Jesus, rather than follow his followers. I think Gandhi would understand, just as Anne Rice does.

And so on...

A Different Kind of Hope

Sometimes it becomes difficult to separate Jesus from his followers. As in "if a Christian says something, they must be speaking for Jesus, right?" Well, no. Not exactly. Don't get me wrong, that isn't a condemnation of Christ-followers; rather, it is simply an acknowledgment of reality. Many Christians act as if they know God's will, and that their words are direct from the Creator himself. An "agree with me or else" kind of attitude. It is no secret that I have become very disillusioned over the years with the church. Non-capitalized. I see many differences between what churches teach and what Jesus taught. I see a difference in focus between Christ and many of his followers. Myself included. (By the way, any time I rail on the church or organized religion, know that I'm not claiming to be innocent myself...I'm speaking about myself and to myself as much as about anyone else.)

I've written often in this space about my growing passion for the broken and marginalized. Developing my heart for poverty and need is perhaps my most important goal at the moment. My home church (the Vineyard in Colerain) has recently started down this path as well, jumping on the World Vision bandwagon and pushing the book The Hole in Our Gospel, which I cannot wait to read. Sitting through my pastor's sermon about God's heart for the poor last Sunday was one of the best church experiences I have had in a very long time.

Yet, even as I see my church (and many others) beginning to focus on the broken and empty and starving and alone, I still hear Pat Robertson saying that the earthquake in Haiti was vengeance from God. I can't escape Republican talking heads spouting that we should scrap the welfare system, despite the great good it does for many Americans in need. I see judgment placed on the poor and alone, on victims of AIDS and other diseases, on single mothers and children with no fathers. If that is what being Christian is about, I want no part of it.

But then I read this and am renewed:

He upholds the cause of the oppressed and gives food to the hungry. The LORD sets prisoners free, the LORD gives sight to the blind, the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down, the LORD loves the righteous. The LORD watches over the alien and sustains the fatherless and the widow, but he frustrates the ways of the wicked.
Psalm 146:7-9

That is the God I want to follow. The one who champions the oppressed and hungry. The one who heals the sick. The one who sustains the fatherless and the widows. The God who does the things I wish I could do, who loves the people I wish I could love when I cannot. I've seen God painted in many different ways over the years, as a warrior and a lover and a creator and a judge and a king. But God as a provider, a sustainer and a father to the broken, oppressed and alone is by far my favorite.

Hearing those words gives me hope. Hope that I can see the oppressed and hungry find real improvement in their lives. Hope that the fatherless and widows will experience love and strength in a tangible way. Hope that God might show me that love too. I've written before about acting in the name of hope, about doing things with that idea in the back of my mind. I'm certainly not backing off from that at all; I still believe that hope is acting in the name of truth, consequences be damned. But I'm starting to realize that those things I am passionate about are also God's passions. My hope can and will certainly manifest in actions, but now I believe it can simply be a state of being. Living in a perpetual state of hope. Maybe these are two different manifestations of hope, maybe they aren't all that different. I don't quite understand everything about that, what implications it has. But it is exciting to think about.

And so on...

Gandhi Had a Point

“I once heard someone say there are only two reasons people are not Christians. #1, They've never met a Christian. #2, They've met a Christian.”

Ran across this quote among some user reviews for a book I’m looking to buy (more on the book - Jim and Casper Go to Church - in a future post). I think there is a great deal of truth embedded within that statement. It reminds me of Gandhi’s famous quote: “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

Is Gandhi's quote fair? Honestly, I think it is. Without question, the Christian community (myself included) does many things that do not fit with the message of Jesus. We ostracize the homosexual community, ignore the homeless and pretend that going to church once a week makes us good people. And that just encompasses the most recent generations. I could go on and on about the Crusades, the Inquisition, the Protestant-Catholic conflicts in Ireland, countless televangelists caught up in fraud and embezzlement. I do not mean to attack the entire church and claim that I am perfect; rather, I recognize my imperfections and hope for the church (as a whole) to do the same. It should not be acceptable for Jerry Falwell to say "If you're not a born-again Christian, you're a failure as a human being", just as it should be unacceptable for the pope to try and brush child molestation by Catholic priests under the rug. To be fair, the majority of people I know who call themselves Christian (or Catholic) are as fed up with these sorts of actions and words as I am. I cannot think of any friends who support Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell or take Benny Hinn seriously.

But even so, the Christian community is much larger than the small communities I am a part of. We would not know what Falwell and Robertson have to say if there were no audience that wanted to hear them. There should be no audience for James Dobson when he says that homosexuals (through gay marriage) "will destroy the Earth", yet Focus on the Family has 2.3 million monthly magazine subscribers. Are we, as the body of Christ, really willing to listen to and even support these individuals?

As Gandhi said, we Christians are so unlike our Christ. I know I struggle with this problem daily, sinning and judging despite my sincerest attempts to avoid those things. If the central message of Jesus is to love, to love God and love others (as I believe it is), then any message of morality or repentance must exist as a result of love, not of judgment. But instead of making love our first priority, it seems that the Christian community wants to make people change who they are as a prerequisite for being treated as human beings. I am embarrassed by opponents of gay marriage who slander entire communities of individuals and then wonder why LGTBQs aren’t attracted to the church. Shouting "God hates fags" at a ballgame does not send a message of love. Neither does holding up gruesome signs of aborted babies or protesting outside of Planned Parenthood. And so on. But I don't want it to sound like I am only speaking to the "radical" crowd. I know plenty of self-proclaimed Christians who voice their hatred of gays or liberals or Muslims on a regular basis; it may be subconscious and it may seem harmless, but spouting hateful rhetoric delivers a very different message than one of love - it sends a message of judgment and hypocrisy. And yet we wonder why young people are leaving the church in record numbers.

Certainly I am not arguing that Christians should support gay marriage or abortion or whatever, nor am I arguing that Christians should oppose them. Those are issues that we must all choose our own positions on, and we should be free to do so without the threat of being slandered by Christians who might think differently (on both sides). We are called to be Christ to the world, and that means that we are to love the world…even despite the world’s imperfections and flaws. Or maybe because of the flaws. But regardless, we are to love the world first. If we were all to do that as an entire body acting in the name of Christ, perhaps leaders like Falwell, Robertson and Dobson would be forced to consider their words more carefully, perhaps the pope would have to get his hands dirty and fix the problems of child molestation within the Catholic church, perhaps gays would feel welcome on Sunday morning. And maybe even Gandhi would begin to like our Christians.

And so on...