For anyone that has followed these posts, you have likely noticed that my writing has dropped off here about as abruptly as it began. There is one reason for this: Because I chose to write about Love. And, frankly, I have learned that when Love is your primary topic . . . There is just not enough of it to keep writing about sometimes.
I wish I could have spent the past few months writing and being an encouragement. Instead, I have sadly spent much of it doubting and questioning.
I have questioned the existence of God at times. I have even doubted that if God does exist, it is in the form recognized in Christian theology.
It feels good finally admitting to that openly. Until now, only a couple people know that I have questioned God’s character and existence.
My doubt makes me a weak and despised person, worthy of no one’s serious consideration, doesn’t it? I can’t be taken seriously by Atheists because I still want to believe. I can’t be trusted by Christians because I have the audacity to question. But I have also learned that maturity in faith comes about, at times, by fully embracing doubts. Engaging them and wrestling with them and not by always hiding them away from consideration.
This last 3 weeks, the preacher at the church we have been attending has asked: What word do you think of when you think about God? He is referring, I believe, to the A.W. Tozer quote:
“What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”
Once upon a time, I thought of words such as “angry” or “vengeful” or “strict” or “stern,” or even, “Father” . . . all words with negative connotations to me.
Then I finally started thinking the word: Love.
But this past Sunday morning, I didn’t. The word that came to my mind was: Weak.
I began to ask the question: How can an all-powerful God be so weak?
Does that question evoke an emotional response in you? Pity? Anger? Do you want to respond immediately and with strength?
But that is a perfectly valid question. The Bible teaches that God made himself weak. Christian theology is based on the belief that God relies upon us–the flawed–to lead his church, carry his message, teach his children, mold and heal his world with our hands and hearts.
But what have we done? What do we do? The people that label themselves as God’s Chosen, in this nation at least, spend more time worried about their rights, their privileges, and the sanctity of their feelings than about Love and Service. Some Christians cling to what they believe protects them rather than hanging those rights on the Cross in exchange for the needs of, and out of Love for, others.
Do you want an example? How many lawyers need to be paid, how many news stories written, how many defiant Facebook memes shared, and how many years wasted . . . Over the simple act of baking a cake? A CAKE?!
Do you know who won the battle over Christians baking a cake for a same-sex couple? Aside from the fattened lawyers, not a single participant did! Hate won. Distrust won. Division won. But Jesus’ teachings on Love and Service? Jesus just wasn’t even there.
So where was God in all this? If God had been present, we wouldn’t have ever been aware. Because God doesn’t typically make the news, does He? Every small display of Love and seemingly inconsequential act of service–you know, the things that actually DO make this world a better place, where God is present in the midst–those don’t typically make the news.
Just like if these Christian bakers had decided the greatest act of Love would have been to sacrifice their rights to refuse service and instead bake a simple cake. Because Jesus didn’t say we only Love those with whom we agree, we only serve those who look and act just like us, did he?
According to Christian theology, God gave humanity the keys to the kingdom. God became flesh and submitted to death. God not just allows–but requires–the use of our free will in Faith and our decisions in how we act upon that Faith. The Church, and the World in which it exists, are what people make of it.
God became weak and trusted us to make the right decision in how we act through that weakness. And what is that right decision supposed to be? That we hang those rights on a Cross in exchange for the needs of, and out of Love for, others.
But we can’t do it. We are so incredibly weak of character . . . That we can’t allow ourselves to just give up the fight and show mercy.
God is relying upon us??? So I ask again: How can an all-powerful God also be so very weak? He had to have foreseen how much we would mess this all up.
And where has He been?
Do you want to know who the real “Snowflakes” are in this world? It isn’t a generation of Millennials who haven’t really seen the face of God.
The only “Snowflakes” I see are a subgroup of people, who have been handed the keys to the kingdom by God, and who actually complain about being “persecuted” in the United States of America for their beliefs while having no problem using derisive language like “libtard” to denounce their supposed persecutors . . . and then choose to rely upon politicians with questionable moral compasses to protect and champion their causes.
Should I have sympathy? If so, sympathy for what?
“However do you manage to survive the public stonings? Having your houses burned? Watching your loved ones beaten and hung? What? That hasn’t happened? Well, rise up my Christian Brothers and Sisters and refuse to bake that cake! Take heart in your Facebook memes! And find the courage to once again publicly condemn and name-call everything you disagree with in Jesus Holy name! (of course)”
No. I am done with going down that road.
When the best proclamation of Jesus’ message I see is found on a Hard Rock Café magnet on my fridge that reads: “Love All Serve All” . . . And it isn’t found in the actions and reactions of “Christians” living in the world we see around us, is God there?
And where has He been? Can you show Him to me??? This, I would really like to know.
Because the only convincing response you can mount to what I have said here is to show me what I am missing. Show me Jesus. Anything else . . . and you prove my point.