A Forgotten Humanity

I’ve been wondering lately if Jesus would have voted if He were an American citizen.

I’ve been wondering if or how He would partake in the rhetoric that has become so normalized. Humanity at its finest. Blame. Accusation. Defense. Disbelief. Mockery. Meanness. Entitlement. Superiority.

Perhaps it’s a classic case of just needing to look at my 1990s W.W.J.D. bracelet… but, I really have wondered what role He would assume in our current culture. Because that has some bearing on how, when, or if I do (or don’t) get involved. It’s as though politics, pandemics, movements, and impossible-to-please-everyone decisions have stripped people of their humanity. And we have forgotten that on the other side of a policy, or a protest, or a political party, or a television screen, or a social media post, or a decision we don’t like… that there are real people with real souls.

It feels somewhat ironic, given the causes (or people) we are often fighting for.

Oh, I thought the Bible said…

But somehow, our […hatred, harsh words, thoughts, opinions…] are justified. As if we are living as though Scripture says, “Value others above yourselves…except if you disagree with them, if they offend you, or if they seem ignorant. Then it’s okay to disregard them, speak poorly of them, and assume you are better than them.”

Or, “Love only the people who are just like you, the ones who you agree with, get along with… you know, the ones who look like you, believe like you, vote like you, and act like you. It doesn’t matter if you love anyone else. Those other people, they aren’t worth saving or caring about.”

Because we are the ones who are “right” and that begins to matter abundantly more than the people. Whether it’s our stance, our prejudices, our experiences, our knowledge, our understanding of the issue at hand, the way we are personally impacted… somehow this provides us with a “truth” that excuses us from kindness, grace, and love. It becomes perfectly acceptable to think or make generalized (and sometimes atrocious) statements about groups of people and/or individuals.

How do I be a Christian right now?

It’s been a baffling season to live in as a Christian. Maybe for you, too.

I wonder if I’m not doing enough, or saying enough, or being enough – or maybe I’m doing too much. I am often in disbelief that I can claim the same identity as another (a child of God) and yet when we are both looking at a square, I see a circle and they see a triangle. How can this be? What am I missing?

I’ve struggled with the lack of unity that grows more apparent each day. Is there any room in this world to disagree on politics, or the economy, or how to stand up against injustice, or decisions that are made… but still hold one another in high regard, to show honor, to heap blessings upon the other? Is there any thought of (or desire for) harmonious living?

I have been overwhelmingly challenged lately to check my heart, ever-aware of the judgment and disbelief that so readily surfaces. “I can’t believe she would say that… or believe that… or do that…”, “He is such a…”, “Don’t these idiots know that…?”

I am ruined

And when I look deeply within, I am ashamed at what I encounter. A spirit of pride. A feeling that I am “right”, and that I know “better”. Criticism, doubt, anger. An inability to see people as image-bearers of the Most High God. Woe to me…I am ruined!

For me to forget that I am just as human, just as fallible, just as broken… just as in need of saving grace as the person posting to my right or to my left. How dare I? How dare I forage for the ounce of disagreeableness within you while I carry a hefty load of filth within me (a load that I conveniently choose to ignore, or dismiss as ‘not as big a deal’). How mortifying that I might condemn you, but be so unwilling to admit that I could be wrong…

Have I forgotten what I have been saved from? Have I lost sight of the depth, the weight, the gravity of my sin… ? Do I remember that blood was shed to set me…us…free? Have I forgotten the Gospel?!

What a disgrace to think that I might know you well enough to know what you have been through and how that shapes your worldview. What ignorance for me to assume that my way, my understanding, my perspective is right or truth. What pride, when I refuse to really hear you or care for you, even if we don’t see the world in the same way. What shame, that I am willing to judge your actions when I cannot possibly know what decisions you have been forced to make.

I am sorry.

Will you forgive me? Will you forgive the harsh or insensitive words that I have spoken or written? Can you somehow put my grossly judgmental thoughts in the past and trudge through our differences to find a place where we can see each other as humans once again (or, maybe, for the first time)?

Can we find the time and space to care about each other? To know each other? To move past the assumptions and exist in a world where we both strive to find common ground?

And, Jesus, will You forgive me, too?

As I consider You, the Triune God who is sovereign in all things, I fall on my face… undeserving of your grace. I bring pride, selfishness, self-righteousness, and, often, an unwillingness to love my brothers and sisters – the ones You call sons and daughters. But Lord, if I know anything about Your call on my life, it’s that I cannot claim to love you and not love others. You even ask me to love my enemies… the people who laugh at my failures, the ones who smile at my pain. The ones who have caused me deep pain. The very people I want to hate.

So Father, teach me how to love. Show me how. Help me do it when I cannot on my own. May You find me willing, ready, and actively seeking to show Your love in this world, during a time when humanity feels so divided…. so…. forgotten.

Yeah, but he’s still a…

And Lord, help me to actively confess my pride, my judgments, my condemnation of others and their opinions/actions/words when it surfaces. Help me to do so, even when I feel under attack. Even if I have to do it over and over and over again.

There is no world in which I believe You condone those thoughts, those accusations, those words toward or about others – regardless of what they say, write, believe, or do. Show me how rid myself of any excuse or justification of sin or ill-will toward others. To live with the type of humility that Christ did. To be a person who, in addition to love, brings joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control to those around me. Give me wisdom on how to act, think, and speak in today’s world.

God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

More than This

Easter is kind of this weird holiday for me.

While it’s one of the 2 times during the year that many people attend church, it seems a bit underrated. Aside from church attendance and a plethora of Scriptures all over people’s Facebook statuses, I wonder how well we celebrate this holiday.

Dying eggs, egg hunts, our Sunday best, a substantial meal with family and friends, a sunrise service, Easter baskets, chocolate bunnies, peeps… a mixture of pagan rituals tied into the sacred. Interesting.

In all honesty, I think I usually have higher expectations for Christmas and Easter. I want them to mean more…or, rather, I want to focus more on the meaning of them than the traditions behind them. In the Christian faith, this day is a big day. It’s the reason we can live with any amount of hope… and we reference it all the time. I just want to do Easter justice… and I’m not sure I know how.

This summer we had an experience with 400+ students each week on the top of a hill with a giant altar. Every week I’d walk a little sheepy up to the top beforehand and I thought/prayed through what I was about to say to these students. Every week I felt inadequate to speak, every week I feared getting something wrong, every week… as I led this sheep…I’d think about Jesus being led to the cross and what that must have been like.

I got the opportunity to tell these students about Old Testament sacrifice. I told them about what the law required for unintentional sin, I described what the altar in the tabernacle must have been like. I brought out the little sheepy and unsheathed my knife, giving them a real visual of what it would be like to not only watch innocent blood spill for the sake of my sins, but to be the one who shed it. I subtly turned my knife over, so the blunt side faced up…and quickly slid it under the sheep’s throat. Silence. Then gasps. Then words of accusation. Then realization that the sheep was okay.

But, I think we quickly forget…

…without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness. 

The law requires blood to be shed.

I don’t think we are very great at grasping the fact that we are sinners. I don’t think I always believe that I deserve hell. Quite oppositely, I find myself believing that I deserve good things…and am upset when I don’t get them.

Can I grasp that I truly am a sinner?
Can I grasp that I need Jesus’ blood to atone for my sins?
Can I grasp that when He said It is finished that He meant it?
Can I grasp that I can’t save myself?

I want Easter to be a day where we truly lay down our lives as we claim victory in Christ. A day where we really believe that the battle has been won. A day where we fall on our faces in worship because innocent blood has been shed so we might live.

And I don’t want this to just be one day, but an extension of our entire lives.

Maybe I’m just an idealist…. and as a result, I live life in disappointment a lot.

I guess I’m wondering…
Will you let today be about more than the candy, the food, the company, the church service, the list of 5,000 other things you need to do before Monday? Will you simply be still and dwell in the fact that you are sinner, saved by grace, and then walk forth in the victory that brings?
And then, will you do the same thing tomorrow?
And the next day?
And the day after that?

Will you let yourself be revived?
Will you let the things that hold eternal value be the things that matter more than the things that will fade away?

He has risen.
Can we at least want to allow that to change us?

Clinging to a hope for more…
for more than glimmers of what could be… but, instead, a life of true radical change.

I need it.
I need Him.

Do you?

* * *
Your entries will remain anonymous