Filed under: Christianity, Real Life | Tags: Christianity, God, hypocrisy, Jesus, religion, whining
I have come to the painful realization that I am a whiner. It’s painful because like most people, I tend to think I’m better than everyone else. Now, if you asked me if I thought I was better than everyone else, I would say “Of course not!” But that would be a lie, if an unintentional one. The unvarnished truth is that I am selfish and bitter and angry, and I like to get my own way.
Yes, I am a hypocrite. I leave plates of food uneaten because I don’t like how it is prepared, and then I criticise the wasteful habits of Americans. I complain about my grades when it is usually my own fault for being lazy. I call my friends intolerant for daring to voice their own opinions, and then complain when the same is said of me. I whine with the polished drama of an operatic diva. I am small and petty, and worst of all, I claim to follow Christ.
If I really followed Christ, I would be struck dumb with gratitude at the incredible bounty I’ve given. Then I would seek to give that bounty to other people. I don’t do that. I talk about it and I encourage other people to do it. Somehow I avoid actually following through. If I really followed Christ, I would be gracious to people with other opinions. I would listen, and acknowledge the possibility that my own views are wrong. If I really followed Christ, I would be compelled to perform to the best of my ability in everything I did because I everything I do reflects Him.
I dwell in my bitterness, and I savor my anger. I elevate my own hurts to the level of sacred wounds. I take up a cross, but it’s my own cross: I built it myself and I nailed myself to it. And then the light sneaks in. I pause the pity party long enough to remember Jesus, and all my pettiness burns away to a single tiny pinprick like I’ve been staring into the sun. I am a whiner, but I don’t have to stay that way. I am hurt, but I can be healed. I’ve been freed, so why do I insist on remaining enslaved?
So I step outside my box. I come down from my petty cross. I walk away, and walk forward into that gleam of light. Whining isn’t necessary when you realize you already have everything you could ever need.
Filed under: Christianity, Real Life | Tags: anger, Christianity, emergent, emergent church, evangelicalism, God, Jesus
I was thinking about Jesus earlier. Yes, profound. But before you start thinking I’ve turned to the light side of the force, the only reason I was thinking about Jesus was because I was pissed at His followers. I was so tired of the typical trite evangelical BS: Pray and you’ll feel better. Jesus loves you as long as you fit into our box. God is only happy with carefully organized services in shiny big buildings on designated days of the week. Use the same old hymns, say the same old things, preach and yell and thump your big old Bible because that’s how Jesus whoops it up, y’all. Good Christians are conservative Republicans. They salute the Bible and the American flag with the same gesture. We’re just all Good Christian Soldiers in a war I only hear about on certain Sundays in certain churches. Don’t touch the opposite sex, boys and girls, because you never know when today’s handshake can turn into tomorrow’s abortion.
Ridiculous. I swear to you, on my honor as a hell-bound liberal, that the Christians I know are more obsessed with clothing, music and sex (or the lack thereof) than any atheist I have ever met. And what good does that preoccupation do? Create a generation of young adults who are more disturbed by the sight of a misplaced piercing or NIV Bible but don’t flinch when they hear about the latest violence overseas? Or if they do flinch, it’s only because they think it’s their patriotic duty. Who cares about the Iraqis killed? Who cares about the families of dead insurgents? Yes, let’s support Israel (cue special music here) but who gives a damn about the Palestinians?
I bet that Jesus would–or does, actually. I bet that Jesus doesn’t care what Bible version you use or how many metal studs you stick in your nose. Can you name the 20 different people groups in Afghanistan? Do you know the difference between Sunnis and Shiites? Jesus does. Do you know the name of the bag lady on the corner? Jesus does. Do you want to know why people get piercings, or cut themselves, or drink? Jesus does. What’s your excuse?
It’s time to release the Deity from the box He’s been squeezed into. He’s not a tame lion, after all. He doesn’t give a rip about romances between fictional Amish girls and city boys. He doesn’t care about the difference between a Baptist and a Methodist. He doesn’t have a denomination. He doesn’t a version. He’s God, and He’s above all that. Why aren’t we?
