2003-06-21 - 3:26 p.m.
STRAWBERRIES
Many evangelical Christians seem to take pride in being �misunderstood� or �hated.� I suppose that if an image of martyrdom were at the center of my religion, I might take pride in such reactions too. But I would hope such pride would not blind me to the reasons for the reaction or to the need to question whether my behavior might need modifying. Thanks to a friend or two along the way, Jim, and his link to a piece by Michael Spencer, I know that some do. Unfortunately, that examination does not solve the basic problem.
I know and have known quite a few evangelical Christians of one persuasion or another that I have liked in the specific from college friends to co-workers. I adore and admire my sister-in-law, one of the most solid, generous, and sweetest people I have known. I enjoy e-mail conversations and exchanges with Jim and with Clarence. (I particularly enjoy Jim and admire his intellectual curiosity.) Yet I remain leery in the abstract and my fear is not irrational.
The problem is not, as Spencer suggests, that evangelical Christians are too apt to suggest that others should do as they say and not do as they do. Yes, I have noticed that too many of the evangelical Christians who tell me that the only true marriage is through Christ seem to have no talent for marriage of any kind. I, who have been married for more than eighteen years, have been lectured on Christian marriage by people who are on their second or even third marriage. But such flaws certainly are not confined to evangelical Christians. They are found in every group I have ever known that held very, very strong beliefs. When a system is based in belief, not action, it becomes very tempting to settle for what is said over what is done.
Nor is the problem the way that many evangelical Christians talk about God. I tend to be quieter about it but anyone who reads this diary knows that I think about God, that I pray, and that I look for God in odd places. If anyone wants to wear Jesus on their sleeve, well, I believe that he makes an odd adornment and suspect that Jesus, whether divine or merely mortal, would prefer that a follower emblazon Jesus� thought on his brain rather than his image on clothing but it is of no real importance to me.
While many of the evangelical Christians I have known seem to believe that making the ordinary holy requires checking one�s humor and humanity at the door, this tendency is not the problem either. Many of the evangelical Christians I have known do not have this tendency and I am well aware that one can be evangelical and still laugh without appearing to suffer from debilitating guilt. In any event, I feel more pity than hate for people who believe that God asks them to be less than human as they can never be more than human.
No, the problem is more fundamental. What they want is not mine to give. Just as strongly as they believe that Jesus is God and Savior, I believe he is not. Just as strongly as they believe that God requires recognition of Jesus as God and Savior, I believe God does not. The difference between us is that I believe that God cares more about behavior than belief and that either of us can be worthy in God�s eyes.
And in that difference lies the danger. Because they believe that God will throw me away for my refusal to believe as they do, throwing me away now, spiritually, emotionally, and, in some cases, physically, easily becomes Godlike to them. Their belief system easily can justify barbarity (and has). The lion may be friendly but a lion remains a lion and one in the lion�s mouth must never forget it.
The evangelical Christians in my life, even the nicest ones, remind me of a man saved from starvation because God miraculous had him stumble across a strawberry patch. Having been saved from death, they fixate on the strawberries. Strawberries will save the world from hunger. Eat strawberries and be saved. And those strawberries, those red ripe fruits, will be good for many. But I, you see, am allergic to strawberries and I cannot be sure that the man, full of good intentions, will not try to slip me some strawberries.
And I do not want to be killed to be �saved.�
LAST YEAR: Going Uphill With the Brakes On
TWO YEARS AGO: in Washington, D.C.�no entry
IN CASE YOU MISSED THEM:
My Playboy
Macho, Macho Man
What Might Have Been
Evil Canadians
The Small Stuff
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Copyright 2006 by Ellen |
