Is This Really What We Sound Like?

I listened to another Christian talk the other day. They were defining what it means to “really be a Christian.” I know they meant well, but as I listened I just felt discouraged. People who were not following the rules didn’t make the cut: they lived with their significant others before marriage, didn’t attend the right churches, or didn’t have enough fruit in their lives. I found myself wondering if this person knew that I often enjoy a good beer or a glass of wine. Did the fact that they were bolding confiding in me mean they thought I was good enough? Or were they trying to send me a subtle hint?

I went home to my slightly cynical but very wise husband. “Is this what we really sound like? I asked, “Is this what they hear when Christians talk?”

He responded with an absolute yes.

Ug! It breaks my heart. We are so blind to our own faults. So stuck in our own world.

But friends, this was me. Until a few years ago, this was me too. I lived solidly in the Christianese bubble. I worked to be a good evangelical pastor’s wife. I was great at judging your yoga pants or other worldly choices. I too thought I could tell which Christians were real and which ones weren’t.

Then I got broke, smashed, nearly destroyed by Christians. And I discovered that Jesus isn’t who I thought He was. I saw myself for the Pharisee that I had been and for the woman caught in sin that I am now. I stopped trying to be good, began accepting my brokenness, and started reveling in lavish grace.

Grace is a funny thing. When you realize how much you have been freely given, you begin to give it more freely to others. And when you start to recognize just how much Jesus loves you, you begin to love Him back in a way that changes your insides. It’s not about following the rules anymore, it’s just about being set free.

Suddenly other people’s behaviors don’t seem as important any more. I’m more concerned about their hearts. I know that Jesus wants to heal their broken hearts.

Within Evangelical Christianity there are definite circles and some are more religious and behavior focused than others, but it’s the common thread of dogmatism that gets me. It’s the dogmatic “we are right and you are wrong” that reminds me of my cult days. I think that’s what bothered me about the conversation the other day. Friends, many Christians have become increasingly dogmatic about things these days. It’s not healthy.

On the most recent bonus episode of The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill, host Mike Cosper speaks with author and therapist Dan Allender about spiritual abuse, narcissism, and trauma. Dan Allender talks about the way unresolved trauma (personal as well as historical and cultural) has put us into a place of uncertainty and fear. Often we turn to either dogmatism or indulgence so that we don’t have to actually deal with our own hearts. We like strong dogmatic leaders because they give us security even while they may also be spiritually abusive.

I can easily make a list of well-known, strong, dogmatic leaders within Evangelical Christianity. Is it any wonder that spiritual abuse and religious trauma are also everywhere these days. So many stories of hurt, brokenness, and deep pain.

But have done this to ourselves? Is our desire for certainty so great that we willingly follow narcissistic leaders? Is our fear of the unknown so powerful that we quickly make excuses for them? How do we break away from fear and become comfortable uncertainty?

Dan Allender thinks that stepping away, periods of deconstruction, and even cynicism is necessary.

Right about 36 minutes into episode 18, Dan makes this statement.

“There almost needs to be a period of stepping back and deconstruction. And sometimes cynicism becomes something of a necessity. To ask the hard question: What do I actually believe? What is it that I would allow my own heart to say yes to? And I don’t want to commend cynicism, but I also don’t want to say that it is the great danger that most people fear.”

Dan Allender, The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill Podcast

There are many Christians right now who are quick to condemn deconstruction and people who have stepped back from church as quickly as they condemn people who aren’t following the rules like I mentioned in the beginning of this post. There are Christians who are quick to defend holiness and offer a list of disciplines and standards to follow. There are Christians who want to give you arguments and apologetics and intellectual reasons to believe. It’s all a bit overwhelming to say the least. No wonder people just walk away.

I’m not here to convince you of anything. I’m not going to argue or defend. I’m just going to tell you that I was once a religious legalist who thought that following the rules made god happy. But I don’t believe that any more. He is bigger than that. And He wants more than that. Evangelical Christianity with all of it’s dogmatic theology is too close to the religious Pharisees and too far away from the God-Man who tipped tables in the temple, made friends with sinners, and washed dirty feet.

My faith these days is orthodox in that I hold to the creeds of the faith that believers in Jesus have followed for two-thousand years. I’m not progressive. But my faith is also edgy because I believe in asking questions, facing doubt, and in endless grace, radical love, and a God who wants our hearts more than our good deeds.

“By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

John 13:35

I don’t want people to think I’m a Christian because I’m standing for certain ideals or waving a Bible in their face, I want them to know that I’ve been changed by Jesus because of the way I love them.

Wouldn’t that be something? If people knew that we followed Jesus because of our love?