I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ.
Preach on, Ghandi. I'm with you, brother.
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I spent the other evening in what would be considered a “traditional” church. After having attended a “traditional” church the previous week (after getting bottlenecked in unusual Sunday morning traffic, thus missing the opportunity to walk in late as usual to my not-so-traditional church where people don’t stare at you in disapproval if you walk in late wearing jeans with holes and open-toed sandals), I’ve now been in a “traditional” church twice within a week’s time, which is two more times than I have been in such a setting in over a year and two more times than I care to have been in that time span.
Sitting in the service, which was complete with the traditional bowing of heads and raising of hands during the “alter call” to “come to Jesus,” I thought back upon my memories that had been emblazoned in my mind of those similar calls to be “saved.” This happened to be in a setting where a number of the attendees were not affiliated with the church in which I sat (including myself). As I looked around, I wondered what others were thinking. I’d played this game of church before. I knew what they were talking about; I just didn’t buy into it for I’ve been scarred by those same people that told me they cared about me and loved me in Jesus name.
Ghandi once said, “I like your Christ. I don’t like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ.” Preach on, Ghandi; I’m with you, brother.
As I sat in the service, I thought back to a story I heard of a church (from the same staunch denomination of the church in which I sat the other night) whose pastor asked a fellow to dress as a bum and loiter in the auditorium and the foyer of the church to see people’s reactions to his presence in an attempt to get the congregation to recognize their intolerance of said bum and to demonstrate how they should treat such an individual with the love of Christ. When all was said and done, the church was relieved to find that this was a “regular” churchgoer, and that their displays of indifference or intolerance wouldn’t go past the walls of their church or the walls of their hearts.
As I pondered this story, I considered this a dramatic portrayal of the lesson of indifference and intolerance and acceptance of people whose exterior is different from their own. But I paused and wondered how those same people treat bums who look like everyone else on the outside, but are bums on the inside. Where is the line of tolerance evident in such cases? I find that much like ignoring the panhandlers on the side of the road, churches often ignore the inner-bum of those such as me. The disdain of the church looks down upon such bums as the church preaches that all sin is the same in the eyes of God, but live in a dramatically different fashion when faced with reality.
Case in point, me. I am a bum. Oh, I don’t probably look like one from my outer shell (although to some, that would be up for debate; but as I told my daughter, God doesn’t care what you wear (to church), He cares that you go and live according to how He did…besides, didn’t He wear sandals?). It is inside my core that I am a bum.
Most bums have experienced some kind of life-altering experience from war to alcoholism to financial loss to loss of family to loss of mental abilities, etc. and the list could go on and on. Let’s just say that I’ve my own life-altering experiences, one of which includes divorce, an experience that left me wandering. Nah, I didn’t stand on the street corner, but I wandered nonetheless.
During that process, I watched those from my past whom I had loved, nurtured, supported, encouraged, etc. over the years turn to me with disdain. Instead of reaching out in love, the people whom had called themselves my “church family” turned in disapproval and looked upon me with disdain. There wasn’t a reaching out in Christ’s love. WWJD was just a trinket of jewelry worn to outwardly proclaim their faith, not a reminder to act out of faith as Jesus would. I received messages and mail calling me names such as a “fool” and “idiot.” When I was in their presence, I felt as those who had leprosy in Biblical times.
But, if sin is sin in God’s eyes, as I was preached on so many occasions throughout my life, including the other night, how does the church body justify gossip? Or, if I confide in a pastor in confidentiality, and he turns to tell another, is this deemed acceptable? Somewhere in the book he uses says that a “gossip betrays a confidence” (Proverbs 20).Or consider my personal favorite, “concerned” church members calling aloud someone’s name and alleged sin(s) so that that individual can be prayed for by the congregation…how is that not slander? Every bible I’ve read lists gossip alongside murders (see Romans 1). Come to think of it, slander is also included in the Romans 1 list of “no-no’s” right alongside thieves.
Yet people who call themselves Christians rationalize their measure of the severity of sin based upon their own set of values, which is structured upon a continuum of wrongdoings weighted heavily by the sins that they themselves believe they are incapable of committing and ignoring the weight of those that they do. Thus, gossip in such a system isn’t nearly as bad as say, murder. (Although I am certain that I could argue that gossip can be every bit as destructive as murder.) Consider giving false testimony. It isn’t as bad as taking the Lord’s name in vain, is it? Or coveting your neighbor’s house/belongings? That isn’t as bad as adultery, right? Not on a humanly designed continuum. However, if I recall, in God’s system, each of these are listed equally. (If you disagree, go reread the Ten Commandments in Exodus 20).
For now, let’s keep the continuum theory and offer another similar theory such as “Christians should pick and choose what they wish to follow in the Bible.” That statement would be viewed as heresy in Christian circles. However, this clause is lived out daily in the lives of so-called “good” Christians.
Well, I’m a bad Christian.
I want to be like Christ, but I’m a bum. And if you’re a bum too, I’m good with you. There are lots of us. There are even examples of us bums in the bible. God even called some of them, such as David, an adulterer and a murderer, a man after His own heart. While I strive to be like Christ, I will NEVER attain his stature. So thank God for people like David, because he was a bum too; and I like bums. So did Jesus. He hung out with the bums far more than he did those self-righteous religious people whom he couldn’t stand. He even once called them (the super religious people of His day) “son(s) of hell” (see Matthew 23). I’m thankful for my fellow bums who have the foresight to recognize that they don’t have all the answers or the “right” answer or the “church” answer for everything (as if anyone could have the audacity to explain God anyway). I’m thankful for those who said to me, “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t care. You are my friend, and you always will be. You are always welcome.” Come to think of it, those words came not from those in my church whom I devoted a great portion of my life, but from those not in the church…people who the church probably thinks are bums…my friends…and fellow bums.
I’m with you Ghandi, I like this Christ fellow. He knows I’m a bum, but He loves me anyway. It’s those Christians I don’t like so much.
Read the Gospel and see how simple it is! It doesn't require incense, fancy upholstery or even a building to attend!
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