what matters most to you?

I've been having an email conversation with a friend. She's known all her life that she's gay. She has fought this all of her life. She is preparing to tell her truth and to therefore be disowned by her family. She is ready to be honest.

My response to her?

I love you. I'm sorry you're hurting.

The End.

I just finished watching the conversation between Jennifer Knapp (a Christian artist and a lesbian) and Pastor Bob Botsford on Larry King Live. It left me itchy. Whatever your beliefs about homosexuality, I'm confused at what point a person finds themselves the authority, the one to say, Choose between Christianity and your sexuality.

I'm a Christian, and I know this is a hot button issue in my faith community. Sometimes I'm just not so sure why we're even talking about it. Why are we so focused on it? As Christians, what "should" we be focusing on?

Derek Webb asks some good questions...
(if you don't like swears, don't watch it)

As usual I love the point that's made through this song, that we're so focused on the wrong things. Please tell me, if a person is expending their little left-over energy on another person's moral choices, how do they have room for the sick and the poor and the orphan and the widow?

Sometimes I wish we all could sit together the exact same way we alcoholics sit together. If we did, I'm certain we'd have no room in our hearts for judging lifestyles. Those hearts would be so filled with the power of mercy and a holy redemptive freedom, we would go mute. There would be a lull in the crowd, mouths agape, standing in awe of love. We would see each other the way Christ sees us and the words that follow the pointed finger would be held captive by grace.

I guess this makes me a grateful alcoholic who fully admits she doesn't have all the answers, and is too busy learning to love and be loved to pass my time digging around in the lives of others in an effort to be right out of fear.

I want to transcend, to rise above all of this. I really do. To be a friend to my friend, and that is all.

Pastor Bob says that "sin is not ruling my(his) life," and that Jennifer is "not allowing Jesus Christ to reign over her life."

This is what gets me. Those very words. Those beliefs. It hurts. I hurt for my friend and I hurt for me. Because had people known about my addiction and had they told me, "Sin is ruling your life Heather"...I highly doubt it would have helped me, even if they were right to some degree, a degree I can't claim to fully understand. It would have left me hurting, even if they added, I tell you this because I love you.

I'm pretty sure my heart's response would have been something like, Okay. Now what am I allowed to tell you? Should I point out the way you believe you hold some higher authority, some right to point fingers? Have you ascended beyond having sin rule over your life? What are you not seeing about yourself if can say such things? Unless you can honestly say you're perfect, it's very difficult to find the dividing line between the sin-ruled life and the life Jesus reigns in.

If a man walks into a meeting with fellow alcoholics and says that he's relapsed and cannot stop. If he smells of whiskey with a touch of red wine, what happens?

Open arms, friends. Open arms. We're glad you're here today. That is the only response. And that is why the room is safe and holy, life-giving and life-changing. The change will come. After love.

I can't claim to know if homosexuality is a choice or a sin...I can't. I can't spend my energy looking over the arguments on both sides, arguments that both hold valid points and believable research. I don't think that's what I'm here to do. My friend's journey is her own, as is mine, and I simply love her for being her.

I just needed to get that off my chest.

I Want to be One of Them

While looking back over the posts I've written here, I was struck with this thought,

"What a bunch of silliness. If only I could keep the big picture in mind."

I had a conversation with a friend today about the inevitable questions that arise when we look at evil in the world. "Where is God and why is He allowing all of this?"

In the dark times of my past, I did have to wonder a bit on the reality of God. Where is He? Why isn't He helping? Why can't I see Him working? Why am I not convinced of His love? The answers were few and far between, but they came. I still struggle with a lot of questions, but I've been realizing something that is a challenge to me. That is, had I seen the love of God exemplified in the lives of people who claimed to know and believe in Him, I may have believed more fully in Him and myself. If people would have taken time for me and loved me unconditionally, I'm sure I would have found that contagious, maybe even tangible proof that God still had room for me, just as his people did. Instead I experienced people basically walking away, confused as to how my life could be such a mess, leaving me to believe that must be how God felt about me too.

I am in no way saying that the mistakes I made can be blamed on other people. I just wonder how different things would have been if I didn't feel that people's disregard for me meant I was not valuable. Because what ended up happening was that I lived out what I thought I was worth. And I thought I wasn't worth anyone's time, patience or understanding.

There is a messed up, crazy world out there that appears to have been abandoned. But I wonder, are we abandoned by God at all? Or have we simply abandoned each other, leaving most people feeling so unloved, that they lose faith in a loving God? As Gary Haugen of International Justice Mission says, "it's not a matter of asking where God is, but rather, where are God's people?"

I feel challenged by these thoughts because I forget to do selfless and loving things for someone else. Even just something small, keeping a hurting person or place in mind and doing something to help them see that someone remembers them, and considers them valuable. I get wrapped up in my own life and I simply don't take time to do what matters most.

"...the one thing, on which we can all agree, among all faiths and ideologies, is that God is with the vulnerable and the poor...God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house...God is in the debris of wasted opportunities and lives, and God is with us if we are with them." -- Bono

We may see the reality of God more clearly if we would rise to the challenge of fighting for justice in our messed up world, exemplifying God's true nature. To love even the most frustrating of people. What if we did that? If we let someone who feels lost into our lives and hearts, loving them fully? What if we didn't expect someone to change overnight and put aside all their old habits and ways? What if we simply loved them, and taught them about God's unfailing love for them? I wonder if all the baggage they carry would fall away in the face of a radical acceptance they never knew could exist.

If we could do that, I have doubts that we would need to ask the questions we struggle with. We would be seeing God in action through His people, unable to say that He has abandoned us. In reality, more than likely, we would probaby have to admit that we had abandoned each other.

There are a lot of people who live out exactly what I'm talking about. I simply want to be more like them. I simly wish there were more people like them. They are true saints. That word can be used so flippantly, but the word brings to mind the idea of someone fighting to love people, disregarding themselves and focusing on the needs of others.

Sara Groves says it for me, "...and when the saints go marching in. I want to be one of them."
I'll keep working on it.

That Beautiful Thing

I had a very interesting conversation about Christianity last night. This particular conversation has been a long time coming and today I can't get it out of my head. I really didn't say much. Hardly anything at all. I listened long and hard about the views of...let's call him...Ron. I respected him and refrained from talking. That's really hard for me to do. I love to talk. I love to say what I think. I love to keep rambling until I feel I've been understood. But last night there wasn't room for that. It isn't even that I'm afraid I don't know what to say, although at times there's some of that. It's just that sometimes it's time to shut up.

I'm torn about this conversation because the topic was so heavy and intense and I felt as if I couldn't do justice to what I hold in my heart. I'm also torn because on so many levels Ron and I are on the same page. We hold a lot of the same views on justice, compassion, peace, and the struggle to understand why Christianity has become what it is today.

I've known for a long time where Ron comes from. He says he's not a Christian, but is very focused on spirituality. He believes in the spirit world, in a divine calling and plan for our lives, and each person's individual power. That we are all made in God's image and hold His power and His goodness. (I'm probably not doing his beliefs justice because there isn't enough space and time here, and I'm not him, so I can't speak for him. That's simply a short version of my take on what he believes.)

And Jesus? Well, we talked about Him a lot. Or I should say Ron talked about him a lot and I listened. It may be putting it too simply, but my understanding is that he believes Jesus did live here. He believes He did what the Bible says He did. He talked a long while about Jesus' love, His ability to perform miracles, and His revolution for the poor in a dark time. He called it all a "beautiful thing." But the thing that Ron can't stand is how the end of the story is, in his view used for fostering guilt. He talked about being shown the crucifixion story at a young age and how it scarred him. He feels he was taught that the message behind the cross is that you should be so disturbed by it that you never forget that you owe this Jesus. That you never forget how unworthy you are. That you never forget that you better live in a way that doesn't offend what Jesus did. And if you don't live right, you better feel pretty bad about nailing Jesus to that cross.

This is one of the areas where I can totally respect his frustration. I don't think that any of what he was fed, or that many of us are fed, is the point at all. Jesus did not die so we'd feel bad about it for a lifetime. He did it to take on every ugly perversion and hateful act of mankind in one fell swoop so that we could be free. He did it because He is love. I'm not saying we're free to do whatever we want because Jesus took care of it, but I genuinely don't believe the point of the cross was for us to wallow in our unworthiness and never forget how bad we are. But sometimes that's what we're taught, subtley or not.

I think the only question I asked Ron was what he thinks about Jesus claiming He is God. The one and only God. He said some things about how he doesn't know, because he's not sure exactly what Jesus said and perhaps His words have been twisted...Then he went on to say how frustrating it is to watch the Western world fall for an idea of fear-based religion and all that's been stripped from the original stories and teachings of Jesus. That frustrates me too. But I still believe that Jesus is the one and only God, part of a beautiful trinity that has revealed itself to me in a powerful, tangible and personal way. That's where we're different. But I didn't say that.

I didn't say it because Christians really have done a number on the truths of a loving God. To the extent that when these conversations arise, there is so much frustration and anger, that I don't even get a chance to speak. Pretty much anything I could say would come out sounding like the same old mumbo jumbo Ron's been hearing his entire life. Things he has an educated argument against.

There are times when I think I just need to rest in being me. Just rest in knowing that there are times when I shouldn't speak. Rest in the hope that perhaps my life might speak more than any scripted answer I could ever attempt at giving. I cannot tout my beliefs to someone who is in fight or flight mode. He's in that mode because of a long history of people in his life misrepresenting Christianity.

What is so interesting to me is that if you take the Christianity of today and you strip away judgement, arrogance and disrespect, and maybe even guilt, you come up with what Ron believes. If these things were removed from his idea of Christianity, he may not refuse to call himself a Christian. Because the things he holds dearest to his heart and soul are exactly what Jesus came to teach.

So I'm thinking about this conversation today and feeling sad and a little angry. Angry that the "beautiful thing"Jesus came to do has been all covered up in many ways. And yet I'm feeling hopeful, knowing that all of it works together. Even the disillusionment and failures of God's people and the mistakes they've made to hurt others will all work together in His good and perfect plan. He's that powerful. He's that wise. And He loves us that much.

This and Not That

There are times when I run smack dab into something that I can't stand to be in. Times when I have to grit my teeth and bite my tongue and hold my breath. Or at least take a deep breath and try to clear through the mud of my thoughts because I can't really believe what's happening.

Today I ran smack dab into someone and proceeded through an awkward conversation. I have a tendency toward awkwardness when it comes to certain subjects. These are the only kinds of conversations that make me truly uncomfortable. For the most part I'm pretty at ease with talking with people. I love to do it. I can disagree with someone on something and still enjoy their company and respect them as people while muddling through our differences. But there is one thing that will shut me up. Or make me stammer through, unable to find my words. It is in these moments that it's probably pretty important for me to know how to respond, but I'm not quite sure yet that I do. So I shut up. Or off. It's possible that I still can't say much because I get pretty angry and hurt and it's probably better if my mouth stays closed.

The core of what angers me is judgment. But there's so much to that. It blows my mind when a fellow Christian assumes I'm on the same page as they are on issues. Then they feel they have the freedom to say whatever hurtful or criticizing thing that they think or feel and I'm expected to vehemently agree. Or at least nod or tsk to show my support and disgust. And I don't. Then it gets awkward.

It's tricky because it's not that I don't love the person I'm talking to, it's just that I don't love how they look at other people in those moments. Most of the time the person or persons they are judging is someone whose lifestyle doesn't align with conservative Christian values. Maybe I shut down because I've been in a pretty "unclean" place in my life and know fully that I was loved by God the entire time. Maybe I want to extend that same grace to anyone who is doing anything. Maybe it just hits too close to home and I want to scream, "Do you realize you're talking about ME?" Maybe it's because I still carry so many imperfections of my own, I in no way have a right to point a finger. Or maybe it's just that I don't get it....

keeping the focus on everyone else's failures or choices and off of yourself seems so obviously avoidant.

I also just don't understand how the way Jesus lived and the way He treated sinners is just totally disregarded? How did that happen? Is it just human nature? The same people who live by a very strict moral law for the sake of Christianity are unable to use the same restraint in the judgment arena. I just don't get it.

And now I'm judging the judgers. I guess I'm thinking out loud again because of the random run-in of the day and the conversation that ensued. It left me hurt and sad for the state of Christianity. The way it's about this and not that.