You know what really bugs me?
(This is where my husband would offer, “LOTS of things?” and I would roll my eyes and clarify, “Okay, you know what is really bugging me today?”)
Today, it is really bugging me that so many people choose to pour their time and energy into passing judgment on others’ lifestyles and – this is the part that bugs me – cloaking it as concern for their poor Christian souls.
I love God. Let me start there. With all my “heart, soul, and mind”. That’s Matthew 22:38, for those of you who like these things accompanied by scriptures. You know what comes right after it? “Love your neighbor as yourself.” And that’s where I, and I’d imagine lots of other Christians, often stumble. Sometimes it’s just damn hard work to love your neighbor. I mean, it’s easy to love nice people. And people of other faiths? Muslim neighbors and atheist neighbors and Jewish neighbors? No problem there either. People of different sexual orientations? Gay neighbors and straight neighbors and bisexual neighbors? Done.
But good grief. Loving my fellow Christian can be difficult.
I’m not your “typical” Christian, if there is such a thing. I don’t fit neatly into a box, and I get that. And non-box-fitting Christians often make other Christians … nervous. I get that too. Here’s what I don’t get. Why on earth would the way I choose to live out my faith bother you? To the point that you feel such an irrepressible urge to actually WARN me:
You should be careful with yoga. You’re opening yourself up to the occult.
Tattoos (or piercings, or any other form of personal expression that you find distasteful) are defiling God’s temple.
Any so-called Christian who lets their children play first-person shooter games is not a true Christian. Period.
As a Christian, I can’t believe you’d ignore the biblical instruction for corporal punishment.
Celebrating Halloween is honoring evil.
And overheard just this morning, again in reference to Halloween:
“Sugar-sprinkled poison is still poison.”
I could certainly go on, but those are the ones I hear most frequently, and with the most fervor. What it boils down to is a good, old-fashioned, “Shame on you, you bad bad Christian! You’re getting it all WRONG, and it’s my job to tell you.” It’s exhausting and irritating. And, like I said, not too helpful in my genuine quest to love all the Christians.
The thing you need to know is that my faith is strong. My mind can be changed about many many things, but not that. I am confident in my relationship with God, and I am confident that He loves me exactly as He created me. So while your genuine concern for my soul is touching – if it is in fact genuine – your efforts to change me in some way are really only serving to annoy me (and also to add fuel to the “Christians are just judgmental a@@holes” fire. So well played)
If your choices are not harmful to others, I will support your right to have them like crazy. Don’t want to celebrate Halloween? Cool with me. Don’t want to do yoga? Super. Don’t like certain video games? By all means, don’t buy them. Rather die than get a tattoo or a piercing? Your choice to make.
All I ask is that you extend me the same courtesy.
I’ll respect the message sent by your dark porch on Halloween. I won’t show up at your door with my zombie child, I promise. I won’t force you to do yoga. I won’t even make you look at my tattoos. I’ll just… love you. From afar, if that’s what you prefer.
Because here’s what I’m thinking. If, as Christians, our job is to get out into the world and spread God’s love, and we can’t even act in a loving way towards each other? Something’s not right. Pointing fingers and splitting hairs and damning people to hell over everything they’re getting “wrong” does no good for anyone. And let’s be honest, none of us are getting it 100% right anyway. We’re human. Gloriously flawed, imperfect, constantly growing and learning and involving humans.
And MY flaws and imperfections (and/or those things you perceive as my flaws and imperfections)? They won’t hurt you. Really. You’re okay. I’m okay. My choices are between me and God. He’s got this. He’s always got this.
No outside help required.