124. I don’t know if I am a Christian

Galatians 5:22 – 23 “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.”

I am having a crisis of faith. I wonder if I am a Christian.  It is not due to the usual sort of crap that gets in my way – the entertaining of lust, the profanity I use, or that I give people the finger as I drive. (Due to the last one I do not have a ‘Christ is King’ bumper sticker.)  There are those foibles that we all struggle with in our lives. Nor is it that I tend to be very Daoist in my relationship with Jesus.  Nor is it that I think that God is female. Nor is it that I am probably extremely left of centre on being a universalist (that in the end we are all reconciled to God.)

          No this a matter of not feeling that I belong.  It is all too common for me to feel like I am in a Sesame Street song -  One of these things is not like the other.  At times I am left wondering if I read the same bible that others do.  (I am told by my friend that most Christians actually do NOT read the bible.)

          What has me questioning whether I am a Christian or not is that I see those who say they follow the same God as I, sneak misogyny. racism, and hatred into their theology.  It seems that loving “the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind” is a matter of telling others that they do not belong in our church, our neighbour or our country.  Ours seems to be faith of exclusion.

          Do not get me wrong – exclusion is a valuable thing in the right context.  If you want to worship Odin and Thor, my church may not be the right place for you.  If you have come to my church to pick up chicks, you might want to consider that you are not in the right place.  But if you are one of the despised we, the body of Christ, should welcome you, I know I do.

1 Corinthians 1:28 God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are,

In the wake of the mass killing in Orlando, I wonder how many of my Christian friends have wondered if they hold any responsibility? I know I have.  To think that the gunman acted out a hatred that is separate from our culture is very short sighted.  And if you think you hold no responsibility, have you stood against organizations such as the Westboro Baptist Church and their hate speech? I am a member of a faith of that some members considered that the dead in Orlando had what was coming to them.

          More I wonder, do I hold responsibility for the woman who was raped last night?  When we make one sin, if you consider it a sin, so objectionable that all other sexual sin pale by comparison do we give permission to rape by our silence?  Thus, in our rancor over homosexuality do we, through our silence, give permission to rape?

But what concerns me, these days, is the continued hostility towards those who are not like us.  I am fucking tired of it.  Truly.  When I consider the Syrian refugees, I want to weep, not so much for what has happened to their home country, but how they are received. Yes, I know that there a lot of churches that have welcomed the refugees with open arms.

          But it seems that most of what I see is a begrudging acceptance of these people into our communities.  There is great concern that they will bring their struggles here – they won’t, and that they will change our customs – they won’t.  It is like allowing your brother’s family to spend the night because their house burnt down and your worry is that they will order a pizza you don’t like, have an argument and then want to watch a show that isn’t yours favourite.

One of the oddities of my faith is that I question the theology of personal salvation.  I see us called to Christ as he said, to be the light of the world.  That we, you and I, are called to point the way.  This is where I differ from what I see in common Christianity.

I believe the light we shine is supposed to light the way of love.  Consider the two great commandments. The light I shine is not to point out your wretchedness – I think you already know it.  I am to light the way to what is possible, for you, for our community, and for our world.  But lately it seems that I stand with very few people.  So I wonder, am I a Christian, or something else?