Tearing Each Other Apart

The passing of Amendment 1 in North Carolina, which essentially said, "Hey, we know homosexuals can't get married already but we just want to make EXTRA sure they know we are against it," has really stirred up the fires on the issue of marriage equality and the Church is responding. Terribly.

First, there was a sermon in which a pastor told his congregation that he thought all homosexuals should be put in an electrified fence, fed via flyovers and left to die out because they can't reproduce. (Because we all know gay children come from gay parents. Oh... wait....)

Don't get me wrong, the electric fence guy made me feel upset but at least his idea was insane so I just dismissed him as crazy. It was disturbing, but, to be honest, I wrote this guy off immediately. He sounded ignorant. He used terrible grammar. It disgusted me he would suggest something like this, disgusted me that his congregation would applaud and say "amen", but on the whole I thought, "Stupid nut job" and moved on.

But these comments from Curtis Knapp made me sob. I made it about 30 seconds before I completely lost it and started crying my heart out.

"They should be put to death.... it tends to limit people coming out of the closet. 'Oh, so you're saying we should go out and start killing them.' No, but I'm saying the government should. They won't, but they should."

What is wrong with this man? These men?! The people in their churches!?! Did anyone stand up and leave? I want to believe that next Sunday he'd stand before an empty church. Unfortunately, I'm sure that's not true.

I don't, I can't understand how that man could think it would ever be okay or the will of God to say something so terrible. In his reaction to the responses he's received as a result of his sermon, Knapp said, "My hope is for their salvation, not for their death" but did not apologize for or retract what he had said. So, sorry Knapp, I'm going to have to call bullshit on that. And I'm going to have to call bullshit on other Christians who try to pull this same thing, ie, attacking the LGBT community, oppressing them, calling them animals, debased, abominations, etc. and then claiming they are acting in love. That, I'm sorry, is not love.

I know, I know, that many Christians believe they need to stand against the LGBT community and stand for the Bible, but I ask you, is that what they are doing? Is saying hurtful and hate-filled things what Jesus would do? I just can't believe that. Even if you believe that homosexuality is not the way God wants someone to live, you should not threaten that person or do harm to them, whether that be physically or emotionally. Shame on us. Shame on the Church for crushing these people's spirits with hateful speech. Shame on us for claiming we think their sin is the same as ours and yet treating them like lepers. Shame on us for allowing men to stand in positions of authority in the church family and say such horrible things. Shame on us for letting our desire to win trump our desire to love and care for the humans around us. Shame on us all if we don't stand up and tell people that this is not acceptable, these words are not okay, these men do not speak for me.

Friends, don't let this issue of marriage equality divide, destroy and devolve the Church. Whether we all agree about whether or not homosexuality is sinful, whether or not your church wants to allow LGBT members into the fold, we should all be able to agree that we should have one response to them- love. Love like we love ourselves. That is just not happening. These men are not loving these people, they are not even beginning to treat them as they would wish to be treated. I don't believe that these pastors would suggest death or imprisonment for themselves. I believe what they are doing is reacting to the social environment with fear, extremism and hate. They believe there are too many Christians not upholding that "old time religion" and damn it! they are going to fix it by showing that they will obey the Bible no matter what! Be it insane or cruel, no problem!

"My friends, you were chosen to be free... use your freedom as an opportunity to serve each other with love. All that the Law says can be summed up in the command to love each other as you love yourself. If you keep attacking each other like wild animals... you will destroy yourselves." - Galatians 5:13-15

We are destroying ourselves. The Church is becoming synonymous with hate. We are the hate people. And I am grieved. 

Confessions of a Former Homophobe (kinda)

I wish I couldn't apply the word, "homophobe" to myself. I wish I could give myself the grace of a blogger I will discuss today and say I wasn't really afraid of homosexuals but that wouldn't be entirely honest. I was afraid of them. And confused by them. I can say the homophobia was short lived and the majority of my life I was not afraid of gay people, but I felt like they were deceived by Satan and kinda icky. That last bit is something I'm especially not proud of. I'm so sorry.

I was remembering the other day that the first time I was aware gay people existed in the world was when I saw the movie Philadelphia. It was a hugely confusing moment for me because it was explained to me that Tom Hank's being gay was wrong but anyone who has seen that movie knows that Hank's performance rips your heart out. I was so upset by his treatment in that movie, it bothered me for a long time afterwards. However, it didn't really hit home or challenge my thoughts and feelings about gay people. I made it all about AIDs discrimination and left it at that.

The first real confusion I felt about gay people came when I saw The Laramie Project. That play is extremely powerful and for the first time gay people were not sinful and sexually depraved. I saw them, as a character in the play says, as just God's kids. Just like me. And I didn't know what to do with that thought. I was 19 at this time and I was so used to thinking of gay people as strange, unnatural people that I didn't even know where to begin changing that opinion. To my knowledge I had never known a gay person and I was honestly afraid to discuss any of these thoughts with my friends or family. So I just buried them.

Then I made my first openly gay friend and my foundations started to get rocked. Then I made another and I started thinking, this doesn't seem fair. These are good people. Then a guy I had led a Bible study with and greatly admired during my years in college (I still admire you Matt!) revealed that he was gay. That's when everything started falling down around me and I finally got the courage to admit to a friend that I was starting to think maybe being gay was not a sin after all.

However, even though I love these aforementioned people, at this time they were not parts of my everyday life.   Thoughts of them preyed on my mind but the rhetoric of "being gay is a sin, just like every other, but a sin and they chose it" was just too deeply ingrained. After all, man + woman = baby and that was a logic I couldn't dispute. It was all still a somewhat hazy, confusing subject for me. Until I met my friend Scott, one of my most beloved friends in Syracuse who has been a wonderful addition to the Blum's lives. Scott and I share a brain too often and for me that is a rare find, one that I treasure. When I found out this fantastic human was gay I realized my days of sitting on the fence were over, I was going to have to figure this thing out.

I have reached a place in my life where I believe completely that being gay is not a choice, nor a sin. I believe God will bless a committed, loving gay relationship equally. I believe his arms are open to his gay children and I think it's time the rest of his kids caught up. It's not been an easy journey and I don't expect it to be. My family and many of my friends do not agree with me and have made it clear, some more lovingly than others, that they believe I am wrong. But I have to go with my heart. If you're curious how I feel about the scriptures addressing homosexuality I would like to refer you to my friend Matt Roger's blog where he, in "The Gay Posts", very thoughtfully and thoroughly addresses all the scriptures and other issues. I agree with him.

Now, as an "ally" (for some reason I feel funny using that word, maybe because it's so politicized) I want to share a couple things that have surfaced that last couple days in light of that abysmal amendment passing in North Caroline (to me that amendment essentially said, "Hey! It's already illegal for gays to be equal citizens but let's just make sure they understand that we REALLY mean it. No equality for you!") I was pleased President Obama had the guts to support marriage equality publicly. I'm sure it was not an easy decision with the election coming up around the corner. I loved this statement he made:

“The thing at root that we think about is, not only Christ sacrificing himself on our behalf, but it’s also the golden rule — you know, treat others the way you would want to be treated. And I think that’s what we try to impart to our kids, and that’s what motivates me as president.”

Thank you, President Obama for this grace-filled statement. Because he is very right, as Christians, even if you believe being gay is a sin, you are still called to love your neighbor as yourself. How would you feel if your neighbor was going out of their way to cripple your family's legal rights?

A great blogger, Justin Lee made this statement that, as someone who formerly did all manner of damage to people in the name of Christ, I sincerely believe:
 

"I find that most Christians are totally unaware of how mean the church can be to gay people, and so they don't know that they need to do anything to fix it. As long as it's not fixed, it's going to be hard to give gay people a reason to come back to the church."

 I'm pretty sure he doesn't just mean the church building, he means the body of Christ. And, from my point of view, it can be hard both for gay Christians and gay-affirming Christians to be a part of the family these days. This issue is becoming so polarizing, there's so much anger, hurt, slander and fear that I am afraid the followers of Christ have forgotten the love part of their mission. I'm not trying to say that people on the pro-gay side are always right and always accepting. They aren't. I'm not. But I'm striving to be. We must all extend grace. Justin made this other great statement:

"I owe an apology to all the people I've hurt, and I of course offer my unconditional forgiveness to anyone who may have hurt me. We all make mistakes, and we're all trying to stand for what's right. It's just that sometimes we don't have all the facts even when we think we do." 

 It's like he reached into my brain and plucked out this thought. I owe apologies to many people I'm sure. I have been awful sometimes, whether aloud or in my mind. I know from my past that people that don't agree with me, the people who voted for Amendment 1 in North Carolina or who keep overturning marriage equality in California are not bad, evil, heartless people. They are doing what they think is right. Not too long ago I would have agreed with them. Not because I hated gay people or thought they deserved less than me, but because I believed that they were deceived and that by stopping them from marrying I was somehow protecting them and myself. That somehow it would make America a better place and more people would come to know Jesus.

Clearly, I no longer believe this but that's because I had a chance to meet people who changed my mind. Because I have a family that encourages me to question beliefs even if the answers I come up with don't match up with theirs. I have a spouse that loves me through my changes, doubts and fear. I have friends, like the Sara I write this blog with, who have helped me through this journey. These people have given me the courage to doubt, to wholly give myself up to my questions and finally find some closure. If you've never been in the position to doubt your foundational beliefs, I think it's difficult to appreciate just how terrifying it truly is. That's what we're asking people to do when we ask them to vote for and support marriage equality. Keep that in mind when someone on the opposite side of a great divide makes you want to scream. Extend them grace in their journey. I will try to take my own advice.

Brain Worms

Okay, the idea of brain worms is really gross. And they probably exist in nature but I don't want to know. Worms are disgusting, seriously. I hate the idea of them. But I'm titling this post "Brain Worms" because all the time over the past year I keep finding these ideas that are wormed (see?) deep into my mind that I just have accepted as true so not bother to think about again.

One occurred to me randomly in the shower yesterday. I had just gotten back from running, which is a time I do a lot of my deep thinking, so my brain juices were flowing. Suddenly, as I paused to let the conditioner really soak in (my hair has been so rough lately) the thought popped into my head, "Wait. Are all sins the same in the eyes of God?" This is just something I've always believed. I can't remember the first time I heard it and I can't count how many times I've repeated it, but I suddenly realized I have no idea why I should believe that. Where did God say that in the Bible? My 12 years of Christian school leaped into action and my brain began rifling through the Bible. And.... came up with.... nada. Nothing. I could see why some verses might make someone make that leap but none really stated that to God, all sins are equal. And why should they be? Why would it be reasonable, logical or acceptable to think that God looks upon a murderer or someone who has abused a child the same way as he looks upon a kind, generous person who just told a lie for whatever reason? Doesn't really make sense.

This is not to say that I think God's grace can't cover every sin, because I think it can. One of my favorite quotes is, "But all the wickedness in the world which man may do or think is no more to the mercy of God than a live coal dropped in the sea." (William Langland) I also always loved the part in The Hiding Place where Betsy ten Boom is dying in the concentration camp and says to Corrie that she must tell people that there is no pit so deep that God's love is not deeper still and they will believe her because she had been in such a terrible place. (I'm getting choked up just thinking about it) So yes, I believe that God's love extends to the worst of sinners, no matter how uncomfortable that can make me feel. Let's be honest, some people, like Hitler, you want to say do not deserve grace. But that is God's department, not mine and the Bible seems to say that he is always faithful and just to forgive those who seek forgiveness.


The thing I take issue with is sometimes I feel like we only offer a God who seemingly is less caring and logical than us and can only see in black and white. Like there's a checklist and you're either naughty or nice, one or the other, hell or heaven. And if every sin's the same then no matter how you lived or what challenges you faced or anything else, you better have asked for forgiveness or it's hell for you. We would have higher expectations of any other authority figure. We would expect a just judge to examine the case from every angle. We would demand a parent love their child, treat them with compassion and see the big picture. If I  missed curfew when I was in high school because I just stayed out late with my friends I was busted. Grounded for the weekend. That's that. But if I missed it because I got a flat or something similar my mom isn't going to ground me for the weekend. Both times I broke the rules of the household but my parents would examine how and why I broke that rule before punishing me. I believe God does the same.

Additional Reading on This Topic

To Church or Not to Church

I was reading this post over at American Jesus in which the author comments about the phenomenon of a high attendance on Easter Sunday that then instantly plummets. He discusses the idea that many people are trying to "pull a fast one over on Jesus" by showing up on Easter but then not making church a priority the rest of the year.

This was something that struck me as a spotty church attender. I think the last time I attended church here was last summer, maybe fall. It's nothing against the church here. I think they do great things and I really enjoy one of the pastors. I still listen to some of his sermons on line. It was just a sense that I didn't feel like I really belonged. I got tired of the people we know there questioning our absence whenever we would come. "We haven't seen you at church for awhile, where have you been?" I know their intentions are good but it's exhausting to feel obligation to go and sit in a room every Sunday. It's supposed to be meaningful but what if it's not?

This year was the first Easter Sunday I didn’t go to church. My husband and I woke up, looked at each other and said, we haven’t been going regularly any other Sunday, it doesn’t feel honest or sincere to go this Sunday so we won’t.

Frankly, our friends and family have made us regret that decision because we’ve gotten so much grief for not attending church on Easter Sunday. No one seemed to be that bothered that we hadn’t gone for the previous 3 months of Sundays but that we didn’t go on Easter Sunday was horrible. Next year we will probably go to church whether we’re attending or not just to avoid the post-Easter fallout. I imagine there are a lot of people like us out there who go on Christmas and Easter to make family members happy, not to try to pull a fast one over on Jesus.

Church and church attendance and the idea that I need that community is something I’m struggling with in my life right now. I have an amazing, supportive, wonderful group of friends, believers and nonbelievers, that challenge and inspire me. Do I need church as well? I spent Easter Sunday praying and thinking over the Great Commission and talking about it with my brother. Would I have gotten more out of my spiritual life that day if I had gone to church?

In my past experience I have found that the church swallows me up and takes over my life to the point that I don’t feel like I am helping a single person in my life who is not a Christian. I’m also anxious about avoiding the propaganda of the Christian culture that often gets presented hand in hand with the gospel. I am wary of trusting a pastor, a fallible human, to tell me something true.

Every Sunday you go to church and you sing some songs and you hear a man (or woman) tell you what they found significant that week. They were struck by a verse or a book they read and now here is your challenge for the week: we should read a Psalm a day, pray for an hour, read this book, make a goal in your spiritual life, find a non-Christian to pray for, ask someone to come with us next Sunday. Every week there's something and it's really easy for me to just try to do my Christian homework each week and let that be my spiritual life. I can hang with the other Christians and we can talk about our struggles sharing our faith or being a submissive wife or having daily quiet times. We'll pray for each other and smile and go about our day. And we'll have real friendships with each other. But what about everyone else?

Maybe this is a personal problem but when I was in college and deeply involved in my church, that was my life. I was a Bible study leader and I had church activities 5-6 days a week. I didn't have other friends. I didn't do other things. I don't really want to regret that because I loved my friends and I loved my time in college. But I think I was very restricted in my understanding of the world around me and of the people I was trying to "save." I don't want to be like that anymore.

I tried to go to church more casually. Attend but not be involved so much. Not be a volunteer or a leader, just go on Sundays. But somehow that feels meaningless to me. And I can't shake that feeling. Sometimes I go and I feel moved and inspired, but most of the time I feel like I'm just fulfilling an obligation. Until I figure out a way to reconcile this I’m not going to go to church out of sense of duty or for that “checklist” of Christianity.

In that post there was the statement, “So, if you don’t want to be a very real part of that community now, you won’t want to be a part of that very real community in heaven for eternity." Do I need to go to church to be a real part of a community? Are only churches real communities? I'm not sure.

The Great Commission?

(A couple disclaimers/confessions. I don't really like the idea of short-term evangelism mission trips. I'm not going to get into the reasons though many of them are discussed on Jamie, the Very Worst Missionary's blog (in a few places). I will also say that I went on 3 evangelism short term mission trips in my teens with Teen Mania. By the third I was to the point of feeling disenchanted with the whole idea but I went for other reasons.)

I received a support email from a friend today asking for money to send him to Nepal for a short term mission trip this summer. I found the second paragraph particularly thought-provoking and I turned it over in my head a bit on my run today (when I was not thinking, "Ow.. oww... my legs... oww... must... breathe...")

"The purpose on the trip is to bring people into a personal relationship with Jesus.  THAT is our ultimate focus.  In a land where its people are deeply religious, the battle for the hearts and minds of the people are won by the leading of the Holy Spirit.  It is not because of our own efforts that people accept Jesus as our redeemer, but because of His working in their heart."

When I first read this I was struck by the way he said this because to me it read, "We are going to Nepal to bring people to Jesus. However, only the Holy Spirit can bring someone to Jesus, we can't do it." Interesting. 

In light of today being Easter, I've been reflecting on the idea of Jesus saving mankind from their sins. My facebook feed is full of my Christian friends thanking Jesus for the gift of life and for his sacrifice. While running today I thought to myself, it's true. As humans we search desperately for hope and meaning in life. To believe that the God who created you and the world around you cared enough about your plight to suffer and give you redemption is great news. It's amazing news. It's the best news. You're loved and cherished. 

However, if you think of all the humans on this planet, about 7 billion of us, and according to the most favorable of statistics only 33% of those are Christians, things get sad. Are 66% of humans really hell bound and is it because of us? People claim that with these words Jesus put the responsibility of people's salvation in our hands: "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you." (Mt. 28:19) And is that good news? To take something as important as eternal salvation and place it in the hands of stupid, selfish, awful, deceitful, confused, scared, humans? To call that "The Great Commission"? It's the verse that short term missions clings too- we need to go and tell people about Jesus and save them. We might be their only chance.

But, today I wondered, is it salvation Jesus wanted us to bring to people? Or is it just, as Rob Bell says in Velvet Elvis, that a life knowing Jesus, knowing that you are loved and precious, is the best possible life. That we have found the best possible life to live on this planet and we want to share it? We want to invite people to live a life that (also from Mr. Bell) brings heaven to this earth. Whatever brings love, peace, joy, kindness, patience, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control is the best life. That's good news.

Salvation is complicated. Eternity and heaven and our final destinations are murky and confusing if you start poking at them. I'm not entirely convinced that Jesus intended for us to try to "save" people and place their salvation as a responsibility on our checklist. 

Those are my disjointed ponderings today. No conclusive thoughts, just some questions and wonderings. 

WWJD?

I think the whole, "What Would Jesus Do?" phenomena was really owned by people of my age group. We were the ones wearing the bracelets in high school and feeling all awesome.

Well, I didn't. I could never wear those bracelets because I was too terrified of either doing something awful and having it linked to Jesus or of frightening away non-Christians I desperately wanted to be friends with. But it's the first bit I want to talk about today and just that question in general- what would Jesus do?

I don't know if many people read In His Steps, the book that inspired the WWJD? movement, but I had it for required reading in high school and it was part of the reason I was far too frightened to wear that bracelet. I was really uncertain as to what Jesus would do in all manner of situations and so wearing the bracelet would just remind me of all that uncertainty. However, it's still a question that hovers around in my mind all the time. What would Jesus do? So often I find myself praying that, asking God to please, just help me see the truth and know the right thing to do. It's not such a simple question really. It's hard to be certain of what Jesus would do in every situation.

My general rule of thumb is to err on the side of love. What would be perceived as most loving, most open-armed? But then, there are situations like Sara was talking about in her last post where you start to wonder, do I have to keep these toxic people in my life? What would Jesus do? My brain has computed the logical side of the situation I find myself in and has concluded that if a human is bringing more ill than good to my life, I should not associate with them. But... that is much easier said than done because the rest of my consciousness is asking, is that really what Jesus would do? Seems unlikely. He would keep loving them right? Keep welcoming them into his life? Keep in mind, it's not like these people are bringing danger to my life or my husband's life. I don't fear physical harm from them, more just emotional exhaustion. Is it ever okay for someone who claims to follow Jesus to cut someone out of their lives? I feel uncertain. It just... doesn't feel right.

So I'm going to ponder this some more.

Christians are just awful

I actually said that out loud one night while meeting couples friends of mine, and I stopped my friend in her tracks. She looked at me, and tears welled up in her eyes and she just said, " I know!" I didn't realize how freeing and honest that was to say until I saw her reaction to my words. She had just been chewed out by a "christian" boss (a job she has since quit), who for various reasons was paying her employees half the amount she was paying her daughter and who was secretly recording meetings with her employees. Great. I thought about this reaction today after emailing another friend, who was honestly divulging how she felt about a particular person. People who call themselves Christians are one of three things: genuine, false and using it the name for their own gain (be it financial or emotional), or legalistic. Of course the latter two are abhorrent to me, that goes without saying.

The legalistic kind are so bent on portraying their picture perfect lives, they have no clue how miserable they are. They are also the first to pretend say how humble they are and that they are no better than anyone else, but their actions and words deny deny deny how they truly feel. They're so transparent it's mostly painful to watch. Even Ghandi said he'd follow Christ, if it weren't for Christians. I'm with you Ghandi. I also hope i'm not misquoting you.

Really, we all just need a healthy dose of Kenneth from 30 rock. "There are only two things I love in this world: Everyone and tv." People don't UNDERSTAND that in order to actually make a difference and to show people Christ, all you have to do is fall madly in love with people. All people. Not just people that look like you, but everyone.

I recently had a conversation with a family member who told me that my attending a drag queen brunch meant I was losing my moorings, that I needed to be aware of danger. For a drag brunch? Following that line of logic, I should also be afraid of clowns, actors, mimes, children dressed in Halloween costume, etc.. I LOVED the drag brunch. I loved that men could look prettier than women, that they were talented and could dance. I loved slipping them $1 bills and telling them how pretty they were, because it was true. And doesn't everyone want to be pretty? Everyone wants to be beautiful and graceful and lovely. Male or female. I replied to my family member that loving people is exactly the mooring I should have. I then subsequently de-friended the person on facebook. Not spitefully, though that sentence implies it, but for that family member's own sake. I disagree with having conversations via electronics, when the person wouldn't say the same thing face-to-face. Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they do. People see someone who looks different from themselves "odd" "trashy" "thug-like" and it's DANGER. Nope. Not true. But this is coming from the same person who saw a family standing too close to her unlocked car and thought, I don't care if you're of the same social demographic as me, I don't trust you. Step away from my vehicle.

Sometimes Community Can Suck

I wrote this for my own benefit months ago after seeing Dave Bazan in concert and heard him talk about the effect his switch to agnosticism from Christianity has had on his family relationships and friendships. I thought I'd share it here.

Faith can be such an integral part of one’s life that sharing the same beliefs with someone else seals you into a safe and comforting place like no other. When no one else can understand the decisions you make, where you put your time, etc. someone of the same faith can. If you’re really engrossed in your faith’s culture, the bonding becomes even easier. You and your friends are listening to the same music and reading the same books. You’re privy to the same jokes and you speak the same language. Normal bonds are even deeper because they will stretch into eternity.

When I was deeply involved in church I was attending a church related activity five days a week and generally spending time with people from my church the other two. My world was small, but I felt safe in it, extremely so. I knew everyone, they knew me. Discussing personal matters to the point of utterly exposing your heart was common and even easy most of the time because everyone would understand your struggles to be a better Christian. The community I experienced there felt completely safe, completely open, completely right.

From being on the inside of a community like that I can understand why it’s so hard for someone to hear that a member is leaving. Not physically leaving, that would be no problem -spiritually leaving. This is beyond losing a friend, it’s losing a comrade, an eternal family member. I think it’s the weight of the latter that really plagues Christians-  will you now be separated from someone you love forever?

It’s a horrible feeling, I can speak from experience. When my someone I love told me they didn’t know if they believed in God I agonized over the thought that we would be separated for all eternity. It was the chief thought in my mind, that I just had to be certain their salvation was secure. They could ask any questions they liked so long as I knew that when we died, we would end up in the same place. I can only imagine that would be one of the first thoughts to enter many of my friend’s minds were they to know some of the thoughts I’ve been having.

The only solution is to mount an offensive to get your friend back in the fold ASAP. This loss of faith is just a trick of the devil’s; Josh McDowell and Lee Stroble have proved to the entire Christian world that with the right argument you can reason someone back into belief. And thus, the arguing and reasoning begins- facts about the Bible’s accuracy, questions about good and evil and spiritual revelation.

I can appreciate this reaction, I really can. I had that precise reaction myself. But that’s because I didn’t know then what I know now. For every argument, there’s a counter-argument. For every spiritual revelation there’s a possible explanation. We don’t know anything, we can’t. And faith is defined as “belief that is not based on proof” for a reason. If you want to argue, you can, but it will likely not get you anywhere unless the person is seeking to debate. But if they are just seeking to share with you, their friend, what is on their heart and mind, debates will only serve to say, “you are wrong, I’m not listening.” So many times I wanted to cover my ears and say “lalala- I don’t hear you, I don’t hear you” when my friend was confessing their thoughts to me. I wish I hadn’t. All it did was serve to drive a wedge between us, making them unwilling to share their thoughts and feelings on God, religion, morality, etc for years to come.

So here’s my point, something for the Christian world to ponder. Yes, for those of you in the community it is grievous and terrible when a member leaves the fold. But remember, chances are, that person is much more frightened, confused and upset than you are. For many (for me), I don’t know if it’s true for all, this potential loss of their faith, their community, everything that centered their world is devastating. It’s terrifying. It’s nothing they came to lightly. It’s not easy or comfortable. And while they deal with the terror of losing their faith, ahead looms the very real possibility of losing friends and family as well. Maybe they’ll stay around to view them as a new project that needs to be accomplished. Maybe they’ll hold them at arms length. Maybe the polarization of faith will be too much and they will cut them out completely.

I’ve never felt fear like I feel the moments I let slip a belief that no longer adheres to that of the person I’m speaking to. Confessing these beliefs to someone from my old community terrifies me. Which is why I have rarely done it. I carefully avoid topics that I know I can’t lie about. Usually I’m safe. I know how to speak the language and I’ve always been adept at steering around topics I don’t want to discuss. But, at times, I’m backed into a corner and my heart will literally pound with fear. 

Afterward: I don't consider my faith lost. My fellow blogger made the point my brain has been dancing around for a long time- just because our thoughts are changing or growing, it does not mean God has changed. S.S., you are brilliant and I love you. 

You Can't Take That Away from Me

This weekend I was sitting at my Christmas party discussing God with my Jewish friend, M. Both she and my atheist friend, J, have honestly been the two people who have made me feel like I can still be a Christian in light of my adjusted beliefs. This weekend, as M and I were talking about the religious aspects of our respective December holidays I found myself confessing to her how I had felt this year that if I told people some of the things I'd been thinking- that LGBT people are exactly who they should be, that maybe there are more paths to God than we'd suspected- I wouldn't be allowed to be a Christian anymore. That my religion, my beliefs would be taken away from me. "I want to believe in God," I told M and she said that no one could take God from me.

What I told her is the truth. In spite of all the confusion, upheaval, frustration with the church, etc. I want and I do believe in God. I believe that "God is love and He loves everyone." I believe that my highest duty in life is to love God with my heart, mind and strength and to love my neighbor as myself. I believe God is here with me and I believe that the miracles around me are the work of his hands.

I also believe that we are capable of really screwing things up. And that the world is broken and evil. And that there are questions I can't answer. That the hatred of the world can deeply wound people. That there are many people dying and suffering and I can't say why that should happen to them. I don't blame people who reject the idea of God, I understand why they feel that way. But I can't. I don't want to. I want to believe there's something after this life. I want to believe in the Summer Lands and the world CS Lewis describes in The Last Battle where justice is served and it gets bigger and better and more glorious the further you go in. Where love reigns.

So that's where I stand this Christmas season. I quietly sang Christmas hymns all the way home from work last week in thankfulness when the shooting at Virginia Tech didn't turn into another terrible massacre. I lit the candle that illuminates our holy family nativity and smiled. I prayed for peace and comfort for a family that lost their teenage daughter this weekend. I hoped that I could reclaim and hold onto a God and Savior that has meant so much to me.

I basked in the glow of friendships that have blessed and comforted me this year.

Don't you think it's weird that oftentimes (in my experience) Christians seem to believe we humans have ALL this power over salvation and eternity but anything else that goes right or wrong is God or Satan pulling the strings? I've been thinking about this a lot lately after getting into a grand debate with one of my friends over whether or not gay marriage being legalized in New York and the "homosexual agenda" (in this case we were discussing diversity days in public schools) in schools was indeed the work of Satan to undermine the morals of our country. I didn't think so, but she disagreed.

Which is fine, I'm not writing this to say my friend was wrong or I am right because frankly, I'm not 100% positive either way. I do know that if I was a same-sex parent of a child in public school I would not want my child to be discriminated against or told that our family was not "normal" or "okay." A public school is a place, in my opinion, where discrimination, inequality and favoritism (which all mean essentially the same thing) should not exist, as far as that is possible. Every parent should be respected and treated equally.

But enough about politics, this is more about the following quote by my dear friend and co-blogger. It's mid-rant (we like to rant to each other) so it begins as a fractured thought but I think the point is clear:

"To claim that God isn't micro-managing life for everyone, that sometimes things happen because we affect each other in daily ways every day and it's those interactions that positively or negatively influence our emotions, circumstances, etc."

 I agree with her but it raises the question in me- how concerned should I really be about Satan's agenda or influence? Should I be watching the political climate, trying to ferret out the schemes of the devil and oppose them? Are we living on God and Satan's chess board? I'm not trying to mock at all, these are things that I really wonder about.

I guess my thought is that if I'm doing my best to bring heaven to this world and striving, as the blog title indicates, to live a life characterized by charity, mercy and restraint, then wouldn't that be combating evil effectively. Do I need the additional fear of "Look out for the devil!" to motivate me? I don't want to. If there is one thing I'm trying to get away from, it is the motive of fear. It seems that Christians play the fear card all too often and that is something I don't like. I don't want to serve God and do the right thing because I'm afraid of death, Satan or hell. I want to serve him because he's good and service to him makes me good.

Does that make sense?

I know I'm not the only one

Maybe by virtue of being named "Sara", we share similar views - you know, based on our namesake who started the Israelite nation. Can't get much cooler than that. Consequently, we Saras laugh at convention and know there is something else waiting around the bend that will blow the world's ever-loving mind. But I digress.

My world began to change when my brother came out. I didn't know it at the time, I was a youth group leader for an amazing church in New Jersey (hollah back at me) and I thought I had everything religious wrapped up in a pretty bow and shelved. I had my devotional routine, I had my packaged set of services I "provided" for God - my work for the church, my views all aligned with mainstream Christianity (our my perception of it). I was set.

It was a conversation with a fellow churchgoer friend of mine that slowly showed me there is more (there is always more) to think about. She was what I termed a "liberal Christian" (oh those labels!!) one who I considered lackadaisical - when really she was open-minded and understood that there are more shades of gray than most of us are willing to accept.

Because above all, I think we all want to be right. We want to be the people who have our proverbial shit together. We want to be the top dogs, the ones everyone else is jealous of. And even if it isn't as coarse as that - we want to know we are ok, so we can stop WORRYING about stuff all the time. I think the hardest lesson, still, to learn is, we aren't. And it's those of us who never give up, and don't get discouraged when we are wrong and continue to keep pushing on, that make this life worth living.

And I was wrong, a lot, in my 20's (oh my 20's!). So much so, I still find myself apologizing to people for the things I've said or done to them 10 years ago - in the name of "guiding them towards the light", when really, that "light" was a flashlight with a dying battery that I pretended was real.

My overall goal is to keep learning - to understand that if God is as big as He says he is and we all claim him to be, that I will be wrong - A LOT. And for the first time in my life, I ENJOY people. Really truly enjoy them. There isn't some hidden agenda in my head for converting them. Because, let's be honest - if any group has some fucking hidden agenda, it's CHRISTIANS. We INVENTED hidden agendas. Oh, hi friend. I'll be your friend, your BEST bestest friend IF (IF) you accept Jesus into your heart. Only then. Because until then, I'm going to keep sneaking "church" "Jesus" "look what God has done in my life" conversation tidbits into our hang-out times. Because I have a hidden agenda.

That's me. I knew I wasn't alone, and I know there are others out there who feel the same way. I'm glad one found me :o)

Exercise Caution

I have no patience with a blog post like this saying how dumb it is for those of us who are rich and have lots of fancy toys to not just wallow in enjoyment.

The problem is this:

I think it's a frightening place for the church to be when we start thinking that the way God loves us is by giving us things.  If that's true, then He doesn't give a flying flip about most of the world who will live their entire lives without one blissful bike ride with God.

I couldn't have said it better myself. Heck, there are times when I hear a story like that and I think, I guess I must not be on the good list with God because bye-bye [job, money, health, whatever]. I like the blog post the second link leads to because I agree with the author- poverty is complex. Our response... it can be tricky. Your insides war. I think the war is good. Life is hard. The end. Don't try to make it simple and easy because if you do, you're lying to yourself.

I don't want to accuse anyone because I'm sitting writing this on a laptop (not a much cheaper desk top), in an apartment that's bigger than my needs, in a chair I bought because I wanted it, with all manner of luxuries. Tomorrow I fully intend to go shopping and buy some clothes that I want, not that I need. I'm not great at this but I don't know if anyone is. What I do know is taking our blessings for granted is wrong and blithely snuggling down into our luxuries while we confidently assert that God gave them to us is insane. If God shows favoritism like that.... yikes. Why would the poor and bereft ever want to follow a God that just doesn't really like them as much?

It's odd to me that so often I find Christians who do not remotely acknowledge that our actions as humans are incredibly important. That our decisions matter very much, that we are the ones who are shaping this world. While I still believe sometimes God takes the reins and does something crazy, most of the time it seems pretty clear that the ball is in our court. We're responsible for the poor and orphans. That's an expectation. But so is living a joyful, abundant life. So while I think it's vitally important to contribute to clean water for the third world, sponsor kids, and send a flock of chickens to a needy family, I also don't think that God is mad at me for picking up a bottle of wine tonight to enjoy. It's a balance. It's a constant tension. I think it's good to keep it in mind.

I feel anxiety about a pastor with as much sway as Mark Driscoll making a grandiose statement like that. He leads a HUGE congregation and he essentially just chastised his followers for struggling with the fact that they are comfortable and wealthy while others are suffering and dying. Does not compute. They should struggle. He should struggle. Frustration.

It's time to think carefully

While perusing the news during my lunch today I came across this video

For those who don't want it or should the link ever be disabled, here is a quick summation: A 14 year old boy took his life due to extreme bullying over his sexual orientation. He is one of too many teens who have taken their lives for the same reason. Many schools are enacting or trying to enact anti-bullying. Many groups are protesting because they believe that enacting such [insert applicable legal name here] promotes the "gay agenda" and discriminates against children who have moral opposition to the gay lifestyle. Representative Mike Harmon of Kentucky explains, "...someone, just in conversation, says 'Well, you know, I think homosexuality is a sin'. Well we don't want that child to be bullied because they have a certain moral or religious belief, and we certainly don't want them labeled a "bully" just because they have that particular belief."

I watched this video and cried. I'm glad I was alone when I saw it, though I suppose I could have gone to the bathroom. I listened to this hurting teen encouraging other kids like him to believe it gets better, knowing those messages of hope weren't enough to sustain him. I thought about how devastated Dan Savage, who founded the It Gets Better project might feel after hearing this news story. About the boys parents. And then the second half of the video came and I cried even more when I saw that Christians are standing against anti-bullying. Because they don't want to lose the culture wars. Because they are afraid. Because they don't want their child being taught it's okay to be homosexual. At least, those are the reasons I can grasp, maybe there are more I'm not thinking of.

These are my thoughts. I'm not a parent, so I can't speak with authority about how to raise a child but these are just my thoughts as a human on those three reasons:

1.  Culture wars. I hate them. I hate them very much. I don't see how waging war and drawing lines ever leads to anything good. It leads to hate, anger, separation and misunderstanding. I'm still waiting to find that bit in the Bible where God or Jesus suggests that Christians legislate morality.

2. It's easy to be afraid of what you don't know. I get that, I really do. But as decent humans, and especially as someone who is supposed to speak for a God of love, it's really important to try to overcome our fear. I read Malcolm Gladwell's book Blink recently and he claims that it is impossible to overcome prejudice toward another people group without engaging personally with that group. So here's my suggestion. Go find someone gay to love. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me. 

3. If you're really worried about what your kid is being taught, put them in private school. Or home school them. Or realize that you don't get to dictate public school. 

What really hurts is that it seems like Christians are letting their moral stand and desire to "win" completely overwhelm their compassion and love for people that are in pain. It's not right. 

Velvet Elvis - Rob Bell

Oh man, I don't really know how to review this book because the 5 stars I'm giving it is very much a result of my current place in life. I've been questioning the faith I grew up with for the last 5 years in a half-hearted kind of way but only in recent months truly began to feel things I've believed in my past and things I currently feel are right have been in direct opposition. It's become a full out struggle that is scary and disheartening. As I have learned some of the terrible atrocities currently being committed in the name of Jesus, my heart has broken and I lose hope daily.

This book has given me back some hope.

There were a lot of parts in this book that made me feel that all my doubts and thoughts, questions and fears were validated, but this is the one that stands out to me the most.

"....so many people are hostile to the church, many for good reason. We reclaim the church as a blessing... not only because that is what Jesus intended from the beginning but also because serving people is the only way their perceptions of the church are ever going to change. This is why it is so toxic for the gospel when Christians picket and boycott and complain about how bad the world is. This behavior doesn't help. It makes it worse.... We are all created in the image of God, and we are all sacred, valuable creations of God. Everybody matters. To treat people differently based on who believes what is to fail to respect the image of God in everyone. As the book of James says, "God shows no favoritism." So we don't either."

I feel like I'm oversharing but the immensity of the relief I felt when I read this book with my father and he agreed with me that this is actually "good news" made me cry. Maybe I can still be a Christian after all.