hypocrisy

Feb

2023

Not hiding from our own flesh and blood

We share love in a lonely, hurting world

February 5th / Epiphany 5

Readings: Isaiah 58:1-12, 1 Corinthians 2:1-16, Matthew 5:13-20

More than fifteen years ago, The Barna Group conducted a survey of non-Christians aged 16 to 29. The predominant perception about church people was quite negative. 85 percent of church outsiders said they perceived present-day Christianity as hypocritical and judgmental. I remember when the book from that study came out, called unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity…and Why It Matters. I attended a study group that discussed the book and its implications. The group spent much of its time protesting conclusions the book presented. One participant kept objecting that survey respondents were using an incorrect definition of what “hypocritical” means. I found myself getting frustrated with the discussion. If we sat and debated whether outsiders’ perceptions of the church were unfair, we were failing to acknowledge what we needed to acknowledge. If churches and their members lived up to the calling we have in Christ, would public perception of the church be so low? Jesus said, “Everyone will know that you are my disciples if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). The corollary is also true: If we are not known for the love we have for others, if we are not seen putting love into action, people will question whether we are indeed Jesus’ disciples.

Barna Group graphic from https://www.barna.com/research/christians-more-like-jesus-or-pharisees/

At the start of the COVID-19 pandemic (in April of 2020), religion writer Jonathan Merritt argued that some of the most visible Christians in America were failing the coronavirus test. “In place of love, they’re offering stark self-righteous judgment,” Merritt observed. He followed up with David Kinnamon, coauthor of that 2007 book, unChristian. Kinnaman told him the Barna Group continued to monitor attitudes toward Christianity and perceptions hadn’t improved. There has been a further erosion of connection by young people to churches. Kinnaman reported that “those who walk away from the church are most often struggling with the hypocrisy of other churchgoers” (The Atlantic, April 4, 2020). Many are viewing the church today the way the Pharisees were seen in Jesus’ day—as people who talk amongst themselves about being righteous, but do nothing for people in their communities. We need to exceed the righteousness of the Pharisees (Matthew 5:20). We need a better sort of righteousness, keeping the highest command, to love our neighbors as ourselves (cf. Matthew 22:39, Romans 13:8-10).

The first generations of Christians put love into practice toward their neighbors—and it led people to think differently of Christians. As Christ’s followers let their light shine before others, others saw their good works and gave glory to God (cf. Matthew 5:16). A writer about the church’s early history has said: “At no other time in the history of Christianity did love so characterize the entire church as it did in the first three centuries.” As a result, “Christianity spread rapidly throughout the ancient world, even though there were few organized missionary or evangelism programs. The love they practiced drew the attention of the world” (EarlyChurch.com).

The early Christians had a dramatic impact on their world by serving, in quiet, unassuming ways. They busied themselves with everyday actions of kindness and compassion. Some of the most prominent times when their faith-filled behavior was a blessing to others was when Christians served the sick and the dying during epidemics and pandemics (Barnabas Today, 4/19/2021). COVID-19 is by no means the first pandemic the world has seen, but now in our own lifetimes we have seen what a pandemic can do to society. Imagine the devastation in the ancient world, when there were no vaccines or antiviral drug treatments. For fifteen years, from 165 to 180 AD, the Roman Empire experienced its first pandemic. It was known as the Antonine Plague (named after the imperial dynasty in power during that time). Roman legion troops brought the disease back with them from the eastern frontiers of the empire. People died by the millions. The mortality rate is estimated by scholars to have been 7 to 10 percent of the population of the empire, in some places as high as 15 percent. One chronicler documented a year during the plague when 2000 people a day were dying in the city of Rome. What were Christians doing during those days? Early sources document that Christians did not abandon their neighbors or their communities. Rather, to quote Dionysius of Athens, they were “unsparing in their exceeding love and brotherly kindness. They held fast to each other and visited the sick fearlessly and ministered to them continually, serving them in Christ” (quoted in Barnabas Today). In the process, of course, many Christians lost their own lives to the pandemic. But their actions had impressed the world around them, and interest in their faith grew.

Epidemics and pandemics continued to occur in the decades that followed that first plague. The conduct of Christians remained resolute in those difficult times, loving their neighbors even to the point of death. Within a couple centuries, even the most powerful opponents of the church had to acknowledge the love Christ’s people showed. The emperor Julian, an enemy and persecutor of Christianity, wrote a letter in 362 AD to a high priest of the Roman religion. Referring to Christians as “Galileans” (because Jesus was from Galilee), he wrote that Christians were making his priests look bad. He said that while “the poor were neglected and overlooked by the [pagan] priests … the impious Galileans … devoted themselves to philanthropy. … [They] support not only their poor but ours as well, [while] all can see that our people lack aid from us” (Letter to Arsacius, quoted in BibleMesh, 3/20/20). Julian, by the way, is known as “the last pagan emperor” in the Roman era. He had tried to restore the old Roman religion to dominance, but by his time, Christianity had taken too deep a hold in too many people’s hearts.

Photo by Chalmers Butterfield, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5>, via Wikimedia Commons

In today’s world (and rightfully so), we look to public health departments and medical facilities to carry the largest share of helping our communities through public health emergencies. That doesn’t mean opportunities are lacking for Christians to help and comfort people in need. There are so many needs of so many kinds across all our communities. There is, in fact, another sort of public health crisis calling out to us now, calling us to reach out to others with compassion and kindness. This health crisis afflicts millions of people. Research has shown it to be as bad for you as smoking 15 cigarettes per day. It’s a condition that creates a 20% overall increase in the chance of experiencing an early death (Michigan State University Extension). What public health crisis is this? Research by Cigna has shown that more than half of U.S. adults (58%) are experiencing loneliness. Researchers at Harvard, Columbia University, and elsewhere are calling it the loneliness epidemic. We are surrounded in our communities by people who are deeply lonely. Maybe we ourselves are affected by the same loneliness and isolation. Can we, as Christians in our communities and as church groups, become Christ to our neighbors who are lonely? The loneliness epidemic is not like smallpox (such as Antonine Plague) or a dangerous coronavirus (such as COVID-19). We won’t be risking our lives by making efforts to engage with persons who need befriending. If anything, our own spirits may also be lifted and encouraged by sharing life and love with others.

Many years ago, I did a year of internship in Houston, training for ministry. I was a northern boy in a big Texas city. The congregation where I served was wonderfully friendly, but I was many miles from home and away from familiar surroundings and classmates I had known. The congregation had set me up in an apartment of my own, and there were nights I would get lonely. First I felt sorry for myself, feeling like I was stranded by myself. Then I decided to make the most of opportunities that were, quite honestly, right in front of me. The church in suburban Houston had a long list of outreach contacts. My internship duties didn’t require me to go out visiting those persons as much as I did. But I learned that the best cure for my own loneliness was to take time to go out and visit with people who’d had some contact with our church. Making efforts to show friendship to other persons in the church’s neighborhoods brought benefits to me as much as to those I visited. We gave encouragement to each other.

My friends, you and I are “the salt of the earth,” as Jesus has told us (Matthew 5:13). We are here to preserve and extend the lives of others, the way that salt was used as a food preservative in Bible times. We are also here to enhance others’ lives with flavor, making life less bland. As the apostle Paul said, “Conduct yourself with wisdom in your interactions with outsiders; make the most of each opportunity [treating it as something precious]. Let your speech at all times be gracious and pleasant, seasoned with salt” in the way that you relate to others in the community (Colossians 4:5-6, The Amplified Bible).

The prophet Isaiah described the sort of actions we will undertake as God’s people, striving to bring goodness to others in our world. We will seek to “loose the bonds of injustice … to break every yoke” (Isaiah 58:6) that weighs on the bodies and souls of others. As Scripture says elsewhere, “ Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2). Isaiah urged us to share our bread with the hungry, bring the homeless poor into our homes, clothe those who are lacking clothing, satisfy the needs of the afflicted (Isaiah 58:7,10).

Isaiah told us also: “Do not “hide yourself from your own kin” (Isaiah 58:7). “Our own kin” is more than our own immediate family or the relatives at our family reunion. God’s prophet was calling us to think of all our fellow human beings as our own flesh and blood, because, ultimately, “from one blood [God] made the whole world of humanity” (Acts 17:26, The Aramaic Bible in Plain English). So, we can’t hide ourselves away and ignore others’ needs, pretending we can’t see them or what they are suffering. All the people in our neighborhoods and communities are our brothers and sisters, our neighbors and countrymen. We want to see them, pay attention to them, be there for them.

I’m not saying you individually are going to take away the loneliness and needs of everyone around you in your communities. But each of us can do what we can do. We can start small. We can do the little things. Let me make a proposal to you. In a short time, we’re coming up on Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day can be a difficult day for persons who don’t have the companionship in their lives that they wish they had, or who are missing family members far away or out of touch. A couple weeks ago, I got an email from Etsy (an online company) acknowledging the difficulty of such holidays for lonely people. The email said, “We understand this time can be tough. If you would prefer not to receive Valentine’s Day emails from us, you can opt out by clicking below.” I was reminded of an old Peanuts TV special from years ago, when Charlie Brown went to school hoping to get many Valentine’s cards from his classmates, and got none (Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown, 1975).

So, maybe if you want to reach out to someone this month, someone who may be lonely, someone who may be hurting, or maybe someone you just haven’t connected with for a while, you don’t need to make it about Valentine’s Day. You can reach out just because. You can take time to connect with others in a variety of ways. You can send a card—a general friendship or encouragement card. You can write a letter, sharing with someone what you have appreciated about them. You can go knock on someone’s door, say hello. As one Christian writer has said, “Showing love needn’t be that involved: a compassionate phone call made, a greeting card sent, a door held. If you bake, make a batch of cookies or brownies for a friend. Provide an ear and heart to listen. All these gestures communicate love” (Warner Press blog). We can apply to our own witness what the apostle Paul said of his: Our speech need not be with “persuasive words of human wisdom” (1 Corinthians 2:4, Young’s LIteral Translation). We need no fancy language or elaborate efforts. Our simple words and acts of kindness will be “a demonstration of the Spirit and of power” (1 Corinthians 2:4).

If you’d like some resources for ideas about showing kindness or helping the lonely, here are some worthwhile ones:

Very early in the Bible, we are told, when God created human beings, that it is not good for a person to be alone (Genesis 2:18). “That statement of need actually predates the first sin” (Christians for Social Action). Think about that. Even when the world was perfect, loneliness would have ruined the joy and beauty of the Garden of Eden. How much more difficult loneliness can be in our fallen, fragile, imperfect world! We need each other. The people around us need us.

As Christ’s people, filled with the Spirit of fellowship in our hearts, let’s reach out in fellowship to others. “Whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all” (Galatians 6:10). “Let mutual love continue” (Hebrews 13:1)—not only within our own family of faith, but also showing hospitality to strangers (Hebrews 13:2). And perhaps let’s focus our efforts by thinking about those who may be lonely, those who may be isolated, those who might be the Charlie Browns of our neighborhoods, not receiving many encouragements or greetings. Let’s pick up a pen and write, pick up the phone and call, step outside of our comfort zone and visit people we may not know very well. May the light that has brightened our lives in Jesus be like a lamp on a lampstand, (Matthew 5:15), bringing light to our neighbors in our communities by each small act of kindness that we can do.

—

Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Jun

2020

The Bible is not a prop, and religion is not a drug

by David Sellnow

In the early 1800s, revolution was in the air. The French Revolution had introduced ideas of liberty and equality to the masses, and the masses were restless. Napoleon enforced law and order by a willingness to shoot shrapnel out of cannons into crowds of protesters (in 1795, as he rose to power). He believed he was destined to take the Revolution to its proper conclusion. But his portrayals of himself as a man of the people were more about ensconcing himself in power as leader than about the people’s hopes and dreams. Napoleon knew the people revered religion, so he sought to reinstate the Catholic Church’s position within France (which had been damaged during the Revolution). Napoleon’s Concordat (agreement), however, made the church endorse his government and, essentially, serve his government. In 1804, Napoleon arranged a grandiose ceremony in Notre Dame Cathedral. He compelled the pope to be present and hand him a crown, which Napoleon then placed on his own head to designate himself as “Emperor of the French.” To Napoleon, the backdrop of a church was not due to any deep personal faith. The cathedral was a place to present himself to the people as the man God wanted to lead them. He had said, “In Egypt I was a Muhammedan; here I will be a Catholic, for the good of the people.” Religion was an expedient tool for him to gain public support.

Other princes and kings fought against Napoleon and his new world order. They wanted to preserve the ways of the past and their own hold on power. But their approach to the church was not unlike his, endorsing religion as a stabilizing force while conducting themselves in ways that contradicted faith-based convictions.

Prince Klemens von Metternich of Austria, dominant in Europe from 1815 to 1848, championed the church as an institution of society, saying that “religion cannot decline in a nation without causing that nation’s strength also to decline.” In his Memoirs, Metternich wrote that rulers must protect their authority against radical forces that would overthrow “everything which society respects as the basis of its existence: religion, public morality, laws, customs, rights and duties.” He urged all rulers to follow his example and “maintain religious principles in all their purity, and not allow the faith to be attacked.” Yet this selfsame Metternich was a “great womanizer” who went from woman to woman over a series of three wives, multiple mistresses and additional lesser trysts and affairs. One biographer said of him, “‘His favorite recreation was the seduction of high-born women.” Metternich would attend mass, but that seemed a matter of propriety and formality. According to a historian’s description, Metternich’s capital of Vienna was “a city lukewarm to religion. Attending mass was, to be sure, still the custom. But the priest who could say the quickest mass (about twelve minutes by some reports) would attract the largest crowds.” Metternich, government defender of the institution of religion, was not himself a particularly spiritual person. As Czech historian Miroslav Šedivý puts it, “Metternich’s own Catholicism had no real significance in his Weltanschauung (worldview).” Religion was primarily for policing the behavior of commonplace people.

This was the societal context in which Karl Marx made a remark about religion for which he has become famous: “Religion is the opiate of the masses.” That’s a clipped version of a larger thought. The broader statement, as published in an article by Marx in 1844, was: “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.”

Marx may have been wrong about many things. But he wasn’t altogether wrong in his assessment of how religion was being used by persons in power as a tool to tamp down criticism and subdue protests by the people underneath them. The answer is not, as Marx proposed, to abolish religion. Rather, we pray for men and women of genuine conviction who live by faith. We pray for that in ourselves. We admire it when we see it in societal leaders.

Standing beside a church and holding up a Bible does not make someone a person of faith or a friend of the faith. The Bible is not a prop and the church is not a showpiece–though plenty of political figures in past history have sought to use it that way. May we not look at the Bible that way in our own lives. James, the brother of Jesus, urged us, “Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like” (James 1:22-24).

James also had something to say about religion’s role in society and our lives: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world” (James 1:27). Honest, heartfelt religion is not a drug we use to numb ourselves against injustices in this world (as Marx suggested it was). Rather, it gives us the grace and resolve to do good for one another in our world. Believing in Jesus Christ and his resurrection not only prepares us for the next life but also invigorates our living in the present. Faith means having “the eyes of your heart enlightened” to know “the immeasurable greatness of God’s power” which is in at work in us as believers — the same power that God “put to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion” (Ephesians 1:18-21).

The Bible is not merely something to hold up for show. “Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12).

Religion is not a means to cover over society’s problems or inequities. Rather, earnest faith will motivate us to do all we can for one another as fellow children of God. “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2).

—————————-

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Jan

2020

No room for racism among God’s people

Originally published on the Electric Gospel on August 6, 2019.

No room for racism among God’s people

by David Sellnow

Last week, an old recording was revealed. Ronald Reagan (then the governor of California) described people in African nations as “monkeys” and added: “Damn them—they’re still uncomfortable wearing shoes!” We might want to dismiss such statements as outdated ideas from decades ago, but racial and ethnic slurs are still heard in our cultural climate today. And now there’s more than a war of words. Ugly violence and murder has occurred. Over the weekend, a young man posted a hateful manifesto online, complaining of a “Hispanic invasion of Texas.” He then went to a Walmart in El Paso, where he killed twenty-two people and wounded many more.

As people who live by God’s grace and under his direction, our attitudes are guided by his Word. This seems a fitting time to review Bible lessons on race relations—on how we relate to all of our fellow human beings.

Episode one: “Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married; for he had married a Cushite woman” (Numbers 12:1). “Cushite” means Ethiopian. Miriam instigated the animosity against this woman from a different ethnic background. Miriam’s prejudice did not please the Lord. In response, the Lord afflicted Miriam with a visible and painful leprosy for a period of seven days. That was a real case of being “unclean” or unhealthy. Skin color differences are not problems or impurities.

Episode two: A proud religious man asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus responded with a parable: A Jewish traveler was robbed and beaten and left half-dead by the side of the road. Two prominent Jewish men came along … and each of them walked by without helping the man. Then a Samaritan man came along, and “he was moved with compassion” (Luke 10:33). He helped the man, bandaged his wounds, and took him to a place where he could recuperate. Jesus asked, “Which of these three do you think seemed to be a neighbor to him who fell among the robbers?” (Luke 10:36). The proud teacher of Jewish law had to admit it was the man who showed mercy. Bear in mind, Jews of that era typically despised the people across the border, the Samaritans. Jesus’ story illustrated that true human compassion knows no boundaries.

Episodes three and four: Christ’s apostle Peter was called to the home of an Italian Regiment commander. Prior to the request from the Roman centurion, Peter had been given a vision to show him that “God doesn’t show favoritism” (Acts 10:34). God accepts people from every nation. And yet, on a later occasion, Peter didn’t show that same attitude. He didn’t stand up to Jewish purists in a congregation where there were many Gentile members. The apostle Paul challenged what was going on and called it hypocrisy to favor one group over another in the church (cf. Galatians 2:11-14).

Episode five: The scene opens in heaven, and we see the countless multitude of the family of God. Where did they come from? “Out of every nation and of all tribes, peoples, and languages” (Revelation 7:9). There is no racial tension or discrimination in heaven.

There is also no room for racism in a godly heart on this earth. There is no room for disdain toward others, of any race or culture. If someone says, “’I love God,’ and hates his brother, he is a liar. For he who doesn’t love his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen” (1 John 4:20)? Our brothers, our sisters, our neighbors, our friends are the other members of our common human family.

The children’s song written by Rev. Clarence Herbert Woolston (1856–1927) states the simple truth:

Jesus loves the little children,
All the children of the world.
Red and yellow, black and white,
They are precious in his sight,
Jesus loves the little children of the world.

Dec

2019

Do we truly love each other in the church?

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on June 26, 2015.

In a religion course that I taught, I asked participants to say something in a personal way about the church — either in the form of an essay or in poetry or song or by an artistic creation. They had much freedom of what form their words or images would take. I received many thoughtful and beautiful pieces. One of the most striking testimonies came from a dear soul who came from the Caribbean island nation of St. Lucia to study in the United States. She wrote in urgent, stream-of-consciousness fashion. Evodia evokes our heartfelt response. She speaks of struggles within what is supposed to be the loving community of the church. How often within the body of Christ, the church, do we leave individual members feeling similar aches and distress? How often do we forget what Christ’s apostle urged of us?

By the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. … Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. (Romans 12:3-5, 10-16).

I pray you will appreciate Evodia’s honest expressions of hurt and hope … and that we all find greater hope and love in community with one another. This is a longer item here on The Electric Gospel blog, but well worth your time.

Running on Empty

by Evodia Cassius

I wish I were able to truly express how I feel. This my sixth attempt to write this essay and the words still do not pour out of me naturally. I am hesitant and unsettled. I guess my title “Running on Empty” is proving itself to be true on many accounts. Apart from the five failed attempts at this paper, I also have two failed poetry attempts and two failed paintings. Honestly the paintings were not failures, they just do not accurately express my story. Neither did the poetry or the other writing attempts. Hence this blog entry … this series of blog entries. This real-life talking style about my failed successes and empty full life. The irony is painful. As I write, the butterflies in my stomach seem not to enjoy the frenzy in my head because they are trying their best to escape. This is my story, my blog, my irony.

Insanity

Shy? Afraid? Unsure? Quitter, deserter, pitiful coward, downer … these are not me. So why do I feel like it is becoming second nature to be all these things? Why do such attributes seem to be the very essence that makes up this temporary dwelling in which my soul lives? Why has living become so hard? Why do I feel defeated before I even attempt something? And more, why do I keep trying if I know that the outcome will be the same? I am beginning think that I MISSED SOME IMPORTANT LESSON that God attempted to teach me, so as a result I go through and do the same things over and over again expecting a change. The very definition of insanity.

Broken

Helpless, needy, clingy, desperate, attention-seeking … these are not me. But someone said even though you glue the pieces back together, you can still see the cracks. Someone else said once it is broken—though you may make the unit whole again—the element is now weaker than it originally was. If these theories are true, what can be said for something that is repeatedly broken and smashed? Does it not stand to reason that one day like Humpty Dumpty the pieces will not be able to be put back together again? I wear a mask. A façade, a camouflage, if you would like to call it that. Something that hides the cracks and the holes where the pieces that once were are now lost. Yes I admit it, I am broken. … And just when I think that by some miracle I am healed and whole, something bumps me over again, reminding of how weak my structure is, of how fragile I have grown over the years. Of how unstable I really am.

Empty

Depressed, sad, lonely, losing faith? These are not me. A priest once told me that questions do not equal lack of faith. I agreed; it was more my curious nature that drove the questions. But when the questions have been answered and yet still they linger or they resurface, a door is opened. A door that allows more things to come in, but not go out. This door brings past hurts and darkness creeping back in. Slowly but surely, the once brightly-painted room is overcome with a darkness, and the fear is that all the light will be gone.

“What brought all this about?” you may ask. God, the devil, myself? That is an excellent question. You see, I had thought not too long ago that life was splendid. Grand with images of butterflies and rainbows behind every corner. Allow me to explain what I believe happened.

Seeing the light

You know that feeling when some startling revelation occurs, when a conspiracy is uncovered, when some big holes are poked into something you thought was all good? That feeling you get of deep despair and confusion and a stomach ache that you cannot explain? That is the feeling that I felt. That is what I experienced. I came to this unknown place with the best of intentions. I was told, “You will be among God-fearing people, people who believe in the same thing you believe. People who love God just as much as you do.” And that brought me face to face with a painful irony … I love God … but I don’t love you? The Bible itself asks how can you love someone you cannot see but hate the people you see. “Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen” (1 John 4:20).

So which love is it? Which love will mine be? Which love will be in the hearts of those around me? It’s hard to come to terms with love within the church when the church has lost the love it had at first (Revelation 2:3). Where is love when your loyalty to God is measured on your attendance statistics at each and every religious service, and not on how you treat and relate to the people in your very presence? Where is love when you can have a conversation with someone now, and five minutes later not acknowledge their presence? Where is love when you are treated differently because you are different, or just because? When judgment is cast without knowledge of the person? It is sad. It is hurtful. It is infuriating.

I asked my mother, “How can they say they love God, my God, and behave the way they do? Is it just me? Am I the wrong one?” I pray almost constantly, “God, if I am at fault, help me see and help me change.” But it had gotten increasingly difficult to deal with life within the lukewarmness of my surroundings. Increasingly difficult to smile, to be, to live. A minister friend tells me, “You are exactly where God wants you to be.” And I need to believe this because it is the only thing that keeps me going at times. But is it true … or is it a means of pacification so I stop questioning things? I am not saying that I am the only person who struggles, and the Lord knows that my issues may be rather insignificant compared to others. So who am I to complain? But I do feel empty and low. I feel like a failure because I am not happy where I am. God has richly blessed me and all my endeavors; he always has. I cannot say that he has ever left my side. But where I am at the moment feels wrong … in my gut, in my soul. Sometimes if feels like everything around me is rejecting me, telling me constantly, “You do not belong. Something here is different, you are the odd one out, a foreigner that has infiltrated and is not wanted. A cancer. A poison.” I walk into a room and people go quiet. Conversations cease and people walk away. People’s attitudes towards me change overnight. I am not so self-centered to think that I am always the topic of conversation, but I am old enough to know when life is like high school all over again.

Should I stay in my room and brood or cry? That’s not me. I feel like I need to stifle myself and change to be accepted as one of the masses. That’s not me. I do not want to fit in, be one with all others, if being one of the masses means that I am no longer an individual but a drone. I want the respect I deserve. I deserve it not because of the color of my skin or the country of my origin, not because I am better than anyone else. I deserve respect as a child of God – not because I have not done anything to deserve that title. But the Lord has lavished his love on me and called me his own in Christ (1 John 3:1). And, I will remember, the Lord has called many others as his children too – people different from me, people not like me. And we owe each other love and respect as fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.

Prayer

Lord, help what Paul prayed be true for me. Help what Paul prayed be true for those around me. Help us, within your body, your church, to be more and more filled with the love of Christ and with love for one another. …

I pray that out of his glorious riches, the Father may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God (Ephesians 3:16-19).

Dec

2019

Don’t make life more difficult for those hurt by others’ sins

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on May 6, 2015.

A dear friend wrote the following thoughts about life as she had experienced it. Her message is something we in the church need to consider.

***********************

My Life as a Child of Divorce

Author’s name withheld

I am a product of divorce. It has surrounded me my entire life. As a child, it defined me. As an adult, it scares me. In the United States, an estimated fifty percent of marriages end in divorce. That means when you get married, there is a high chance it will fail. In our churches, we believe that there are two biblical causes for divorce: malicious desertion and marital unfaithfulness. The divorces that impacted me fell into such a category. It didn’t matter though. In the church I was treated differently because of them. My parents were divorced – so of course I must be a troubled child. At least that’s how everyone made me feel.

I was too young to remember my parents getting divorced. As I started school, however—a church-sponsored school—I started to notice that I was being treated differently than the other students. For one, I was new and the other kids just kind of looked at me funny. Second, I was always naughty. Maybe I played into the assumptions, sure. If I was going to get reprimanded, might as well get to enjoy what I would be scolded for. This was first grade. As school continued, it got worse. Although I did make friends, you would never hear me talk about my parents and their being divorced. I knew divorce was bad, and I would get embarrassed and worried for my parents spiritual lives when we would talk about the 6^th commandment in school. “You shall not commit adultery.” Divorce means adultery. It would click in my head, and I would sit there and not say anything about it in class. I sometimes wonder if my teachers ever noticed that it bothered me.

Time moved on and I ignored things and was still “talking too much” or “not listening.” I would dread the talk on commandments but school was school. It was normal.

In my 6^th grade year, my mom got married again. He was a great guy; my sister and I really liked him. But later, we found out he was a struggling drug addict. In 6^th grade, you are just turning into a teenager; you’re awkward, and you care way too much what your friends think. As selfish as it is, I didn’t think too much on the fact that my family was falling apart but more at the idea of my mom getting ANOTHER divorce. I was embarrassed and sad, wondering if my mom would be okay to go to heaven. I heard not a word from anybody in my church or school about it. It seemed it wasn’t to be talked about. I look back and wonder why no one could have made it clear to me that I was okay, that my sister was okay, that my mom was okay. This man’s drug addiction, which he chose over us in the long run, was him not doing his marital duties. He essentially deserted us. The comfort I would have had in hearing that sort of understanding from the church would have changed my life, I think. But no, I avoided having friends come over, avoided ever talking about my family. And when the 6^th commandment came around in class, I remember not wanting to go to school that day.

I went to school that day. No one clarified anything to me or comforted me or anything. To their credit, maybe they didn’t know I was struggling with such things, and maybe I should have asked. But what twelve-year-old is going to raise her hand in class at a religious school and say, “Is my mom’s divorce okay?” That would never happen.

Eventually I came to my senses a little. I looked into it myself and started putting things together. I realized, my mom’s divorce was biblically sound. Still, that didn’t mean I wasn’t treated differently. I went to a Christian high school, and not many people there had divorced or separated parents. Even though I started to get my school life on track and realized I didn’t have to be the wounded, naughty student, it didn’t stop certain things in my life. I had a serious boyfriend for about two years, who ultimately broke up with me because my parents were divorced. He said he “just couldn’t deal with it and felt like he could never marry me.” Couldn’t marry me … we were just kids in high school! But it showed me again how divorced persons are perceived as having committed some heretical sin. My boyfriend knew the whole story and still felt that way. It is infuriating.

Divorce is hard on children. As a small child and even as a teenager, dealing with your parents splitting and the conflict and assumptions around you – it is really hard. I always wanted to be the pastor’s daughter whom everyone loved and had “no problems.” As silly as that is, it was impossibly hard to think that you will always be looked at like you’re sinful because your parents are divorced.

God knows that mistakes are made. I’m not saying he approves or is okay with sin, but he knows we humans are sinful. Sometimes divorce can be looked at by some people as about the worst of sins. Why is that the case? One sort of sinner is not better than another. People who get divorced—even not for biblical reasons—can be forgiven. Our focus shouldn’t be on the stigma of certain sins, but on the repentance and faith of the sinner.

Now the real question is: What can we do about this? It goes further than just divorce. What about the people who struggle with other challenges and sins? People who are judged for their circumstances can be turned off by such judgment. I’m not saying to accept people in their sins, absolutely not. But we need to show patience and understanding. Both law and gospel need to be applied. Struggling sinners are forgiven because Jesus died for them.

Also, do not make assumptions. You do not know the story behind a divorce most of the time. Do not assume everyone who is divorced came to that position by pursuing sin. Some have been deeply hurt and sinned against. And we have no clue what is in another person’s heart. Approach persons with support and with loving words. That could be all they need to begin healing.

The point of this article is not to complain about how challenging my childhood was or how everyone around me handled things wrong. That is not true. Although my childhood had rough spots, it was not horrible. I am writing this to raise awareness of things that could be happening if we are open to helping one another. Life is hard; we are sinful people. What is most important—in fact, the ONLY thing that is ultimately important—is what Christ did for us. “God gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him may not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). Let us praise our Lord above for being a gracious loving God who forgives all sins. And let us seek to help and forgive each other, rather than making life even more difficult for those who’ve been affected by hurtful sins.

We share love in a lonely, hurting world

No room for racism among God’s people

Running on Empty

Subscribe