On a scale of, say, G-PG-PG13-R-NC17-XXX, where would you put the Bible? Now it would, in the case of a movie, depend on the directors’ finesse with graphic shots and sound effects. But take your previous rating and consider names like the ‘Good Book’
and the cutesy-wootsy flannel boards children’s church attendees view.
The Bible that I’m growing to know, having recently completed an entire read through of said literature, is not so pastel and fluffy. Considering history, Jesus had a pretty good chance of looking a lot like Mr. Bin Laden. As for the characters themselves, there were some gruff motherfuckers. Our past, as Christians, is not pretty. We are the dregs, the scum, the fools. So why are we trying to act like that’s what we were until we met Jesus and suddenly we got the ‘get out of hell free’ card, stopped drinking and smoking and now there’s no need to say anything to each other at church besides “hey! good to see you! life’s fan-freaking-tastic for me, what about you?”
We are lying to ourselves. This is not authenticity. This is not community. We think we’re better than everyone because we ‘got it’ when we heard about Jesus. Jesus washed his disciples feet. The master as servant. And what do I do when some consider me master? Assume lordship. Darn tootin’. There are many people I know who think I do no wrong; friends who say their parents like me more than them. Do I perpetuate this? Do I revel in my hop/skip life (a term a friend used regarding my life) where I don’t get dragged down by the problems everyone else has?
Think I’m yelling at you? Nope. Me. When I go to church, I sit jaded by fakeness and from watching many seekers ask but never recieve what they needed only to die away into a bundle of hopelessness. See, I ask questions. Anyone can be a critic. Just poke at what’s already made. The difficulty lies in answers, and more so in living those answers.
And everyone knows it but us. I know people (non-Christians, pre-Christians, whatever) who point out Christians’ shortcomings daily. The guy who’s brother started acting the jackass to his own family after he found a wife and God (like ducks in a row, how miraculous). The Christian with the bad temper and no forgiveness. And then take our national representatives. Take the God Hates Fags website. Take Falwell and Robertson, who agreed on TV that 9/11 was what America had comin’ cause of all the tree hugging faggot abortion-rights people. Where is love? God sent His Son to die for all of us. All including the born-again types. Why? Because of love. Doesn’t seem like I have that love, which is not a bonus, but a requirement. If Americans were loved, it would transform them. It’s not about wearing the latest Christian clothing slogans or multimedia heavy churches with double latte bars. Love is the key ingredient.
So in my attempt to tie this together, let’s review our violent sinful past. We’ve got civil war, massacres, rape, incestuous rape, murder, wife swapping. And that’s all in the first like five books of the Bible. Let’s review our own lives, which are littered with violent sin. Okay, mine is. Real ugly stuff. And then there’s grace and love, which showed us what we couldn’t fathom- fantastical dreams solidified into salvation at hand. And how do I return this act? At best by doing nothing. At worst by indulging in selfishness while professing faith. No, no; I don’t get it. I don’t truly understand what I am apart from God. I don’t truly understand what I am within God. If I did, my life would not look like it does.