My youngest sister is 9 years younger than I am, so I was still watching Veggie Tales in high school (don’t judge). Sometimes when I was feeling down because I was too short, or weighed too much, or my voice was too low, or one of a myriad other reasons I had to be dissatisfied with myself, I could hear Bob and Larry telling “God made you special and He loves you very much.” And even though I didn’t feel very special, that simple sentence brought much comfort.

Then I realized I was gay, and I felt even less special. They said people like me weren’t made by God and that we were all the same: perverted sexual deviants with major mommy/daddy issues. They said that God abhorred us and that we were abominations. Basically, “God didn’t make you special and He doesn’t love you very much.” And I believed them.

So, I began trying to change; to be someone God could love as much as He loves everyone else. I prayed begging God to take it from me and I pored over my Bible looking for the way to be delivered. I read every scrap of ex-gay material I could find desperately searching for the cure to my ailment. After four years of striving, I was physically, mentally, and emotionally drained; I was frustrated; and I was still gay. I felt like a disappointment to everyone important in my life. I was a waste of potential; a forever failure. My very existence was taxing me and I wanted it to end.

One night while doing yet another Google search looking for something, anything that would help me, I came across something I never expected to find. I encountered a woman whose committment to Christ I couldn’t reject. And she was gay. Her message also sounded vaguely familiar: “God made you special, and He loves you very much. Regardless of what ‘they’ say.” But I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t. I didn’t dare believe that God would be audacious enough to love and accept me, and, in turn, allow me to love and accept myself and my place in Him when so many said it was impossible. I was too afraid, but in the back of my mind I felt that nothing was more true. I was also brought face to face with a problem I’d been trying to ignore all along: the ex-gay testimonies, theories, and condemning passages weren’t me; they didn’t reflect my life. I’d never been raped or experienced any type of traumatic event. I had a pretty average relationship with my parents and I knew they cared about me. I grew up in the suburbs and went to church every time it was held. I was an A-student in a Christian school going to a Christian college. I was a good kid who loved God and tried to learn about Him and please Him. I wasn’t supposed to be gay. Anita’s testimony was more reflective of my life than that of any of the ex-gays whose were so foreign.

Eventually I came to realize this gay thing wasn’t going away (I can be quite slow, or stubborn, sometimes). I was convinced God didn’t and couldn’t love me and I didn’t love myself. In fact, I hated myself. My relationships and ability to relate to others suffered terribly as I didn’t feel I could be honest and didn’t was to become too close to anyone so the inevitable rejection wouldn’t be as painful. I didn’t want to be who I thought I’d have to be; and I couldn’t be what I thought I needed to be. I was horribly depressed with no respite, and it grew darker and darker until all I wanted was to die. Thoughts of suicide consumed me, and, for a long time, it genuinely seemed like the best option. I’m going to skip any more details of this period, but, suffice to say, the only way it could’ve been darker is for me to be buried six feet under.

But I didn’t forget about Anita, and, since I had nothing else, I decided to spend some time perusing her blog. As I read through, I became more and more convinced of the genuineness of her testimony and commitment to Christ. I read of more women of faith who had endured my same struggle and came through it with their faith intact and still gay. They were exactly what I had always believed to be impossible: gay Christians. And they had one message they insisted was true: God made you special, and He loves you very much. I wept. I wept because I wanted so desperately to believe that but I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

That night I decided to fight for my faith (and my life). I opened my Bible and instead of searching for more condemnation to add to that I’d already internalized, I wanted to see God and how He saw me. I saw that He fashioned me in my mother’s womb and that I was fearfully and wonderfully made. I saw that He had plans to prosper me and give me hope and a future. I saw that He gave life more abundantly and that He wasn’t the author of confusion. I saw a God who loved diversity and delighted in His creation. I realized that He looked on me with compassion not willing that I should perish but that I should have life. It slowly dawned on me that to God there is neither Jew nor Greek, bond nor free, male nor female, gay nor straight; that I am accepted into the beloved and that when He looks at me, He knows me and loves me and longs for me to see Him as He is. I found that what He wanted from my life was for me to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with Him. I looked for God and eventually I found mercy, love, and peace. I don’t know why He chose this life for me when I wouldn’t have chosen it for myself. But now I know beyond doubt that God made me special and He loves me very much.

And I am the Light
And for Me you’ll live again
For I am Love
I am Love
I, I am Love.

And they are immediately followed by a song that remarks

What’s wrong with the world, mama
People livin’ like they ain’t got no mamas…
People killin’, people dyin’
Children hurt and you hear them cryin’…
Where is the love
The love, the love?

I know, right? That’s why I’m gonna talk about it.
The Peas raise an interesting question and it’s one I frequently find myself asking. It’s probably because we’re tight like that. Matter of not-so-much fact, I just hung out with Fergie last night (I call her Stace, but that’s beside the point). Anyway, they note that all the violence, societal fracturing, inter-group hatred, pain, and suffering present in out world is fundamentally the result of a lack of love. And I couldn’t agree more. Our world would be a much more peaceful, safe, and happy place if we would just treat others with love. But, as the Peas put it, “instead of love we’re spreading animosity.” Fortunately, there’s hope. And that’s where Relient K comes in.
Part of what I believe in as a Christian is the vast love of God to humanity manifested in myriad ways but most potently through Jesus Christ. In Scripture, God defines Himself as Love and the greatest commands Jesus gave to those who would follow Him were to love God and others. Love was such a defining part of Jesus’ ministry that He stated people would know His followers by their love. So, if the major problems that are in our world are here basically due to a lack of love and if Jesus is love, then I conclude that “what the world needs now is love, sweet love” in it’s ultimate expression through Jesus Christ. If were to accept the gospel of Jesus, not just His offer of salvation and forgiveness, but also the “kingdom principles” of peace, grace, and love, we wouldn’t have to imagine with Lennon the utopian society he describes. It would be a reality.
However, the sequencing of these songs helped me realize another issue. If Jesus is love and he said his followers would be known by love, why can’t the Black Eyed Peas find it? Are those of us who claim to follow Jesus and His teachings actively and consistently demonstrating the love of Christ to those around us? I don’t think so. Because if we were, there would be less pain and suffering, or at the very least, people would turn to Christians to help ease their ills. I think if we were living out Christ’s love, we would be more vested in helping the poor and underrepresented in society; that we would strive to give the social outcasts and undesirables a place where they belong and are accepted, because that’s how Jesus feels about them. I think if we operated out of love, there’d be a lot less yelling, name-calling, and exaggerated accusations at our protest and rallies. And we’d be more eager to be more eager to be involved in causes for environmental and social justice, because we want to love out neighbor as Christ commanded. If love permeated our beings like it did Christ’s, we’d realize that Christianity isn’t just about living for Heaven but also about enhancing our life and the lives of those around us.
Let’s change our mindsets and our actions so the next time anyone listens to that song, they can answer that Christians have the love. And we can tell them it’s only because Christ is love.

Back to you
It always comes around
Back to you
I tried to forget you
I tried to stay away
But it’s too late

Over you
I’m never over
Over you
Something about you
It’s just the way you move
The way you move me

Yeah, I’m so good at forgetting
And I quit every game I play
But forgive me, love
I can’t turn and walk away

Back to you
It always comes around
Back to you
I walk with your shadow
I’m sleeping in my bed
With your silhouette

Yeah, should have smiled in that picture
If it’s the last that I’ll see of you
It’s the least that you
Could not do

Oh, I will
Leave the light on,
I’ll never give up on you,
Leave the light on,
For me too, for me too

Yeah…

Back to me
I know that it comes
Back to me
Doesn’t it scare you
Your will is not as strong
As it used to be
“Back to You,” Room for Squares, (c) Aware/Columbia 2001

I’m going to be fairly open and transparent throughout this post, as I believe it would be appropriate. I have a very difficult time with modern-day Christianity. I don’t really care to get into detail here, but suffice it to say that it makes me really upset most of the time. Often, my feelings and observations of Christianity have led me to just give up on it and walk away. But that left me with one problem: what do I do with Jesus?

That’s where the song rings true. It always comes back to Him. I try to forget Him and stay away, but it’s too late. His mercy, grace, and love have overwhelmed me, and I can’t get over Him. There’s something about Him. He’s altogether lovely. It’s just the way He moves me. The way His Spirit ministers peace, grace, and love to my soul and encourages me to do the same for others. I’m so good at forgetting His sacrifice, His unconditional love, the blessings He’s liberally given me and how they also extend to others. For all this and so much more I can’t turn and walk away. But I’ve tried.

And it always comes around back to Him. I walk with His shadow be it His Spirit calling to mine, His fingerprints on creation, or just something in class that points to Him or His revelation. It was as if I were sleeping in my bed with His silhouette; in quiet times I would remember just how good He is and that His mercies are new every morning. And His faithfulness and compassion are great and don’t fail. Because He always comes back to me. Running like the father of the prodigal son.

This chapter, to me, is divided into two sections: pt. one deals with the “offender” and pt. two with the “offendee.” Part one is an admonition to be careful not to offend, and if you do, fix it even if it means harming yourself because God’s wrath lies with you for harming one of His “little ones.” But, Christ also tells us that if we offend, He seeks for us because he wants us to be reconciled and does not will that even we should perish. We need not fear reconciliation.

Part two is instructions to the offended one on what to do if this happens to him. First, go try to reconcile. That’s the part referred to as church discipline. It’s interesting that the person harmed is responsible to initiate restitution, not the perpetrator. Anyway, the offended is to explain the offense to his brother and set the terms to “right the wrong.” If the offender refuses this, the other steps ensue. This is followed by a caution: what you (the offended) forgive (loose) here will be forgiven in heaven, and what you fail to forgive (bind) here will not be forgiven in heaven. That’s a considerable amount of power. This caution is followed by a lesson in forgiveness, and i don’t think that’s coincidental. Peter asks how often he should forgive an offender and Christ replies always (essentially). Christ implores us to forgive always and seemingly unconditionally, which would include the condition of repentance. I believe the ensuing parable illustrates the extent of our forgiveness. We should 1) be moved with compassion for our brother, 2) forgive (loose) him, and finally 3) forgive his trespass (debt). The reason why that I get from this passage is that God forgave our much greater trespass (debt) against Him. Or, in other words, extend grace because a much greater grace has been extended to you. Note that none of this is dependent upon any sort of repentance. Never is it mentioned that our responsibility to forgive is to come after the offender shows he’s indeed sorry for the wrong. And, as I read this passage, if we fail to forgive we are under judgment.

Reason number one: we aren’t holy. Sorry, but it’s true . Our innate lack of holiness precludes us from rejecting other believers from our body. It’s kind of a “he without sin” meets “remove the beam from your own eye first” principle. You and I are completely and thoroughly fallible and it’s slightly hypocritical of us to punish someone else for being just like us. Slightly. Also, God’s holiness allows Him to judge sin objectively; our absence thereof means we can only evaluate sin subjectively. People are usually kicked out of church for “bringing shame” or “promoting sinfulness”, which generally means whatever they did was something obvious that the collective “we” doesn’t like (the sinner!). So, a congregant consistently cheats on his wife: hasta la vista, baby. Brother So-and-so consistently cheats on his taxes: let’s make him our accountant. But here’s the thing, God isn’t subjective. He looks at the guy who consistently cheats on his wife and the guy who consistently fails to treat his children with grace and love and He sees sin and feels shame. And we miss that. Sin is sin is sin with God. To Him there’s no difference between failing to adequately appreciate your spouse and beating them. Be we see a difference and judge them accordingly. For a group that’s God’s representative on earth, we sure don’t judge like Him. And we aren’t such great stone-throwers or splinter-pullers either.

Reason number dos: we aren’t omniscient. Even I don’t know everything. (Surprising, isn’t it?) Truth of the matter is, I can only see some of what you do and can only guess at what you’re thinking. That’s a problem, especially if I’m trying to judge you. And it’s a much bigger problem when “lack of repentance” is the criterion for banishing you from fellowship. Because try as I may or as obvious as it may seem, I do. not. know. that you’re unrepentant. Repentance for you may not look like it does for me, and that’s okay. It probably shouldn’t ’cause I’ve never been cloned (shockingly. There really should be more of me.) and we’re different types of people. The process of repentance may be longer and slower for you and I need to learn to deal with that. Now, I know what you’re probably thinking. According to the Bible we can “know them by their fruit,” so someone who’s repentant will show obvious signs. Right? Well, yes and no. Someone who wants you to think they’re repentant definitely will. And here’s the kicker: you and I will never know the difference. So I prefer to leave it up to Someone who knows the thoughts and intents of their heart. Ya feel me?

Another way our non-omniscience fails us in the process of church discipline is in reconciliation or “restoring a brother to fellowship,” if you will. You and I do not know the end from the beginning; we have absolutely no clue what God is trying to accomplish in our “fallen” brother’s life. But we act like we do. We pray for specific things and looks for particular actions, and when we don’t see them, we assume there’s no progress. But God could be up to something wicked awesome that’s completely different from what we expect and we miss an incredible display of what our God can accomplish. How about instead of praying that Brother Jack goes back to his wife or that Sister Jill abandons alcohol, we ask that they are sensitive and open to God’s leading for that day and remember His good grace. Jack and Jill will probably appreciate it more. Just sayin’.

My last piece o’ beef with the whole church discipline deal is that I find it difficult to reconcile with the concept of grace (and grace begetting mercy). More accurately, I miss where grace fits in at all. From what I understand, the church is supposed to represent God. I know that God, in His grace, sent His Son to die that I might live even though my life was characterized by sin. I know that even though I consistently fail Him and often stubbornly refused repentance, He still bids me come. I know that when I try to live my life without Him, He never revokes my right to boldly approach His throne where Christ is still interceding for me. I’m sorry, but I just don’t see this paralleled in church discipline and it’s very, very hard for me to get past.

What then? Shall we sin that grace may abound? God forbid! But, where sin did abound, grace did much more abound. As I see it, when a fellow congregant messes up and “humanity shows” is the prefect opportunity for a deeper understanding of grace. It’s a time when can shower a person with a grace he doesn’t deserve but desperately needs. In doing so, we can reflect on our own salvation and stand in awe at the matchless grace God extended to us exceeding abundantly above all that we could ask or think and with which He continues to cover us. The somber, sobering process of discipline would instead be transformed into a church-wide “Grace Par-tay” complete with skittles and worship eagles (total SCL reference. Go check it out). Kidding about the skittles and eagles, of course. But overall, it strikes me as a more edifying turn of events.

Whew! Well, that was long and just the tip of the ice berg, really. I didn’t even get into humanity, shame and guilt, abandonment, punishment, shunning, pride, hypocrisy, and Christian gang violence! Some other time maybe (probably not).

On any other day I would have been pretty excited about studying through Romans, but not this passage, this day, with this man. Honestly, I’d been dreading getting to this section for weeks, and I was equally as eager to move past it. You see, Romans chapter 1 is one of those infamous “clobber” passages some religious zealots use to condemn homosexuality. The passage reads as follows:

21Because that, when they knew God, they glorified him not as God, neither were thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened. 22Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools, 23And changed the glory of the uncorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and fourfooted beasts, and creeping things. 24Wherefore God also gave them up to uncleanness through the lusts of their own hearts, to dishonour their own bodies between themselves: 25Who changed the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped and served the creature more than the Creator, who is blessed for ever. Amen. 26For this cause God gave them up unto vile affections: for even their women did change the natural use into that which is against nature: 27And likewise also the men, leaving the natural use of the woman, burned in their lust one toward another; men with men working that which is unseemly, and receiving in themselves that recompence of their error which was meet. 28And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient; 29Being filled with all unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness; full of envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity; whisperers, 30Backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, 31Without understanding, covenantbreakers, without natural affection, implacable, unmerciful: 32Who knowing the judgment of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them. (Rom. 1:21-32, KJV)

As I sat there half-heartedly listening to the all too familiar diatribe on the evils of homosexuality, I found myself torn. Behind that pulpit was a man that my family and I respected as a minister of the gospel, a proclaimer of God’s truth. But I felt that in this particular arena, he could not have been more errant in his position. Does he know what it is like to be gay? Does he realize how foreign his particular model of a homosexual is to the real thing? Does he realize the harm he’s doing in propagating such hurtful myths? How could I go to him and explain how wrong he is on this issue? Better yet, how could I explain getting kicked out of the church to my parents after going to him? So, I decided that the best course of action would be to sit there with the evidence of blatant disdain for his message on my face. After all, “silence and discretion veil the hurt, slow the body searches, soothe the sting of loss” (617).

While I sat there probably unfairly judging my pastor for his prejudiced view, I began to wonder why he and many other Christians believed the way they do. “The gay lifestyle is one of promiscuity”; “They’re the ones responsible for the advent and spread of AIDS”; “Same-sex marriage destroys the family unit and takes from the sanctity of the very institution of marriage.”

As a gay Christian, going to church takes on a whole other dimension of meaning. It is no longer simply the place we go to be with people of like faith and practice to glean encouragement to face the week. Sometimes those things are there, but, more often than not, it’s where two identities grapple and clash with each other. A contact zone, if you will. Because at church, your other identity is at best an oxymoron. And outside of church… well, come on. You can’t be gay and a Christian. Right?

So what do you do when you’re caught between two groups? I’ve always attended Christian schools up until this year, and have seen the conflict between Christianity and homosexuality. One guy at my high school was kicked out for struggling with homosexuality; and the college I attended regularly expelled students for homosexuality and we even had a GLBT (gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender) advocacy group protest at our campus last year. The dialogue at both venues was pretty much the same. “How can they really think that’s a legitimate lifestyle choice when it’s totally unnatural?”; “How could they call themselves Christians when they’ve chosen a life so obviously antithetical to Scripture.”

I guess I can’t fault the fundamentalists too much. In all reality, and in the deepest recesses of their hearts, they really and genuinely wish to help those “struggling” with homosexuality. They believe that such a lifestyle is lived in direct rebellion to God and thereby sentences one to Hell. So, in their zealous insistence on homosexuality as a sin to be turned from, they are wishing to save such people from an eternity in Hell. A noble, although misled, desire.

So what do those of us who “struggle” with being gay yet are Christians do? It seems that any “identity…is difficult to maintain [while] in exile” from the other group (615). I mean, as believers and adherents to the Christian faith, our desire is that “[none should] perish, but have eternal life” (John 3:15). On the other hand, as homosexuals, we deny the unnaturalness and sinfulness of homosexuality. We don’t believe you need to be “saved” from being gay. So how do we identify ourselves? We can’t be totally Christian because of our “wicked lifestyle” and at the same time I can’t be totally gay because I’m a Christian and Christians think homosexuality is wrong. Who am I more and why should I have to choose? Neither option in and of it self would adequately define who I am. Both are necessary to the formation of a complete picture of my self, and without them I can never be whole. Other Christians are merely required to “do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with [their] God” (Micah 6:8). Should gay Christians not be held to the same standard?

A greater loss of identity is present when around other Christians. Most of the time we can’t come right out and say that they’re wrong and severely misguided in their stance. To the other believers in our churches, since their sexuality is the most prevalent, it’s obviously the one that God intended and any deviation is a twisted form of what He had originally planned. As Said puts it, “all cultures spin out a dialectic of self and other, the subject ‘I’ who is native, authentic, at home, and the object ‘it’ or ‘you,’ who is foreign, perhaps threatening, different, out there”(637). As the “others,” the best that we can really do is to try to present ourselves in ways to which they can relate in hopes of quelling the idea that we’re really “threatening [and] different” (Said 637). We must worship our God “in spirit and in truth” (John 4:23) with “the beauty of holiness” (1 Chron. 16:29) and pray that other fundamentalists will acknowledge that fact instead of stealing our faith from us. The proof of my Christianity is this: “whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God” (1 John 5:1). My faith is established by its Object, and in that I will rest.

As we go to the polls this political season, let’s remember that it isn’t our government’s responsibility to make Americans live by biblical principles. God has charged us to make disciples; we’re simply being lazy and irresponsible when we try to push our job on the government. Can we please realize that the only effective way to change a person’s mind and/or behavior is to first change his heart. If your desire for America is that she be a nation that follows after God, then do your job. Don’t elect politicians to do it for you; that’s not why they’re there.

Our Constitution was drafted to allow for a religiously pluralistic nation where every person could worship according to the dictates of his or her own conscience. Our founding fathers also made explicitly clear (and to them it was “self evident”) that their desire was that our country would operate on the principles that a) “all men are created equal” and b) are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights.” Those rights include “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Therein lays the responsibility of our government: to ensure those central principles and rights are protected for each individual citizen of these United States of America.

In the recent centuries of our country’s history, we have seen these “certain unalienable rights” (which today we’ve termed “civil rights”) expanded to include groups to whom, traditionally, these did not pertain. Most notably they were first expanded to include all citizens (as opposed to only those who owned property), then to black males, and then to women (all of whom must first qualify as adults). I, for one, am very glad for this progression. As a single black female with no intention of marrying in the near future, I appreciate the fact that when I start grad school, I won’t have to drag my father up to NY or out to Cali to persuade the school board that despite the fact that I’m black and female I do have some amount of scholastic ability (and maybe even a little general worth). He also won’t have to register me as a student, since my signature wouldn’t be worth anything (afterall, no matter what color I am, I’m still just a woman). I also appreciate the removal of the federal pressure to marry (now, if only the rest of society could be so kind). Anyway, I said all of that to say that progress isn’t necessarily evil. In fact, some would argue that it’s pretty darn great (which I just did, but that’s beside the point).

The problem with the occurrence of progress in America’s history is that is seldom the “popular” thing to do. In fact, it is so seldom the “popular” thing, that I can’t think of a single occurrence where progress, in the way I’ve chosen to use it here, was popular. It was unpopular to forbid employers from firing Irish immigrants solely because they were Irish. It was unpopular to extend voting or property rights to women. It was unpopular to extend any rights whatsoever to slaves (afterall, they were only 3/5th of a person). It was unpopular to grant property rights to those who didn’t attend church, thereby keeping them for voting. It was unpopular to allow blacks and whites to attend the same schools. It was unpopular to allow interracial couples the right to marry (afterall, we wouldn’t want to validate their sin, which is a whole different conversation). However, all of those things now exist and are pretty popular ideas. Why? I’m glad you asked. The courts are the reason why. Because when the legislative and executive branches of our government refused to do what was right (or, if you prefer, they listened to the will of the people), the judicial branch picked up the slack and did what needed to be done. They understood the spirit of what our forefathers wanted and interpreted the Constitution thusly. They knew that if left up to “popular” vote, very few of us would have any rights at all. They “legislated from the bench,” and I appreciate that. I appreciate the fact that someone in a position of power/privilege saw an injustice being done to a group of people and did something about it. Thanks to them, we all now have the right to never be discriminated against on the basis of race, ethnicity, sex or gender (though this doesn’t include sexuality (real or perceived) or gender expression), class, or religion.

Case in point, the civil rights of one group should never, under any circumstance, be left up to a majority vote. If it were popular to extend the rights in question, it wouldn’t have to be put up for a public vote. Some legislative or executive body would’ve already taken care of it. We are simply asking for all kinds of serious trouble every time the rights of a minority are voted on by the populous. We run the risk of setting the precedent of discrimination, which is something we should all greatly fear. Just because you’re not in that particular minority today, doesn’t mean that you won’t be in some minority someday. And when that day comes, you’re going to wish to God that you had stood for that other group, because now no one’s left to stand for you. Martin Niemoller, who witnessed the Nazi rise to power, had this to say (I think you’ll recognize it):

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for the Jews,
I remained silent;
I was not a Jew.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.

Discrimination should never be an American value. I beg you: please, never lend your vote to any type of legislation that seeks to discriminate between two groups; that attempts to somehow put one group of people above another; that wants to say that one group is in someway more deserving of whatever right than the other group. If you choose to do this, well, then I hope that your right to religious freedom is never up to “popular” vote; there may not be anyone left to help you defend it.

So I’ve come across a problem that in recent days, months, and years has become more and more apparent—and troublesome—to me.

As I observe our circles, I am dumbfounded how much we as Christians sacrifice love, kindness, and compassion in order to prove that our views, systems, or beliefs (which, if we care to be honest, are usually just opinion) are the only right way. We “sacrifice the permanent on the altar of the immediate” to borrow a popular phrase. Is being correct really that important? I guess so since we can see from Christ’s life and ministry that social issues were paramount to the souls and lives of those around him. So yeah, I see why we as the church are so obsessed with it.

How is it that we who are called to love are seen to be the most unloving? Why is it that our churches, the one place in which the brokenhearted, oppressed, and destitute should be able to find refuge, are now the one place they can count on to reject them? Where have we gone wrong? Well, one way (which is the only one I care to address today) is that we have turned people into issues. Folks, it’s an election year. If you didn’t know that, well then let me be the first to welcome you back from Pluto (which is no longer a planet in case you didn’t know that either). As I listen to my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ talk about the November happenings, I hear a lot about us and our ideals and agendas but very little about others and their needs.

When we strip a person’s humanity from them and reduce him or her down to an “issue” or an “agenda,” it becomes easier to not love them. After all, if they aren’t human, why should we treat them as if they were? Fact is guys, once we are more concerned with the correctness of our position, than the livelihood and souls of others, we cease to be Christ-like; and if we’re no longer Christ-like, is it fair to proclaim that we’re Christians? I don’t think God needs our bad PR. As we live our lives under the name of Christ, we must never forget that those are people out there. Living, breathing, hurting, lost people who face the same life issues as we, and they are not merely “social issues.”

I think alot about my personal faith and what/why I actually believe. I think alot about Christianity in general and if it’s name is even still applicable. I think alot about what I see going on the world around me and why it’s happening. I spend a great deal of time thinking about a myriad of different things trying to draw conclusions that are rational yet in keeping with my spiritual beliefs, experience, and the many things I’ve found to be true in my short time here.

Unfortunately, most of the conclusions I come to about, oh, everything don’t jive too well with others in my very traditional, fundamentalist, extreme right-wing Christian circles. Hence, this blog. Frankly, I need to vent before I explode. So here’s where I’ll express all those thoughts on topics I’m not supposed to think about that are milling around in this slightly liberal, progressive mind of mine. I’m young, I know. I don’t know much about many things, but I do know a little about some things. I ask for your patience; I’m just trying to grow up.