I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but a lot of my friends have a really negative impression of Christianity. And in some ways, I can't blame them. A lot of people have their main exposure to the church as an institution that insists on unthinking obedience, subjugates women, advocates destroying the environment, tries to dictate which consenting adults can have sex, manipulates people into giving them money, supports unrestrained capitalism, and expresses glee at the thought of everyone who's not in their group being tortured forever. I would want nothing to do with such an organization either. And of course I don't think the church is really mostly like that, though I am aware that those voices are loud. And I think the thing to do in response is be loud and not obnoxious – to do our best to live the Gospel and be open about our faith and to take opportunities to show what we think the church is about without getting in people's face about it and just annoying them. That's not what I want to talk about right now.
Instead, I'm trying to figure out what I as a Christian am supposed to do with other Christians who seem to be opposed to everything I think the Gospel is about. My immediate impulses are pretty straightforward: I want to disown them, to deny that they are Christians at all, and to try to take back the name for what I believe in. But I'm pretty sure I can't do that. The whole Body of Christ idea seems to eliminate that option. The hand can't say to the ear “I have no need of you!” (Or whatever body parts are in the actual verse; I didn't feel like looking it up). This is particularly infuriating when it seems like others are doing exactly that to marginalized groups. It drives me up the wall that there are members of the church who want to limit the participation of LGBT people or who think it's okay to refuse to minister to illegal immigrants, but I'm not allowed to respond by pushing back in the same way.
Which makes it sometimes unclear how one should respond, because even though it's not okay to divide the Body of Christ, it's also not okay to go along with injustice in order to avoid making waves. So speaking out is necessary. And sometimes there is mutual respect along with the disagreement. There are people who are pro-life who don't advocate bombing abortion facilities or lying to pregnant women and instead put their energy and resources into truly helping parents whose lives are complicated by an unplanned pregnancy. There are people who truly struggle with what God's will is for LGBT people, who have gay friends and who just can't claim that homosexual behavior is okay while remaining true to their conscience but are deeply pained by this. I don't agree with these people, but I respect them and I trust them to be people of goodwill. They're not the ones I'm worried about.
I'm worried about the ones who do bomb abortion clinics, risking the killing of doctors and staff (and mothers and fetuses). I'm worried about the ones who celebrate when gay youth are bullied or commit suicide in despair. I'm worried about the ones who claim that “a free thinker is Satan's slave” and help to drive my friends further away from what I still see as the deepest connection to the source of all life and joy. So I don't think it works to just say that some people think differently and that's fine, not when that leads to real harm to real people.
So somehow, I've got to stand up for what I believe the Gospel is about, without denying the humanity of those I believe to be seriously misguided. I don't think that means I can't oppose them in the temporal sphere. I think it's justifiable to say, (even if only in my head), “I recognize you as a precious child of God. I will take Communion with you. I will pray for you. If you are in need, I will try to help you. But I also believe that your attitude towards (LGBT people/illegal immigrants/the environment/etc) is wrong, and my conscience requires me to oppose you in that area. I'm willing to share my beliefs and listen to yours, and I hope that we can eventually be reconciled.”
Sounds all nice and rational, but hard as heck to do, even just inside my own head! Part of the trouble is that I often don't want to be calm – I want to be angry, and I feel like I should be angry because of what I see happening. And I don't think that anger is always wrong. Jesus certainly seemed angry when he cleansed the Temple and overturned the tables of the moneychangers. Maybe sometimes anger is useful to shake up people who need to be shaken up in order to see the truth of a situation. On the other hand, acting in anger also seems to run more risk of hurting people, and Jesus had a whole lot more wisdom that I have – I don't know that I can trust myself to choose appropriately when to use anger as a tool.
So instead it's a matter of walking the tightrope – trying to align myself with justice and with what I understand the Gospel to be, including opposing other people if necessary, but resisting the tempatation to dehumanize (or dechristianize?) them – in the words of C.S. Lewis trying “not to hate, not to despise, above all not to enjoy hating and despising.” Lord, have mercy.
As always, it is critical to speak the truth boldly and without fear. For example, hear Jesus with one of His closest friends:
ReplyDelete“Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” (Matthew 16:23)