Tag Archives: humanity

A Crisis Of Faith (Part 2 of…?)

29 Tuesday Nov 2016

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One of my favourite people ever is agnostic. Strangely enough, he has done more for my faith than just about anyone else in my life. We have difficult discussions, perhaps made more challenging by the difference in our worldviews. As much as I wish he would return to a place of faith, I can’t deny the world needs more people like him–those capable of independent thought, not stemming from rebellion, but a genuine thirst for knowledge.

A common theme in our discussions is that he thinks my faith is…unshakeable? He once said he can’t picture me at a place of not believing God exists. For some reason, this has always baffled me, perhaps because belief in God’s existence does not imply it has any effect on one’s life. Perhaps because of the gulf that has always existed between my head and my heart.

I think, to him, it’s hard to perceive the love of a God whose existence you have much reason to question. For me, it’s hard to deny the existence of a God whose love you can’t escape, despite your best efforts. That’s probably the hardest thing to explain: that I’m not a Christian because I’m awesome and I just love this Jesus Guy so much, but because I honestly suck, and He hasn’t backed down from that.

In the face of relentless love, it would be intellectually dishonest of me to say God doesn’t exist, but what does an acknowledgement of His existence guarantee? Can’t I know He exists, but not give a hoot? Can’t I live as if He doesn’t exist, as if I’m sovereign, as if what He says doesn’t matter? I can. And I have. That is the story of my life and my faith journey. Almost 20 years in, I’m still a colossal wretch, but isn’t that the point? Isn’t that what the Cross shows us? That we are all far from awesome, but it’s not a deal-breaker? That we are tansformed, not by understanding we are wrong, but by understanding we are loved? That God, who is Love, is willing to walk with us…as we are?

That’s a hard concept for many people, especially Christians, to grasp. Maybe that’s why I don’t know how to talk to people about this Jesus I know…because He might not be the same one you have heard about. Maybe you’ve heard about a ‘God’ whose love you have to work for, who is put off by your failings and the very stench of your humanity, who dangles the idea of salvation like a carrot, but is really waiting for you to screw up enough for him to cut you off. But, that’s not my God. If He were like that, I would have been cut off years ago…because I’m not joking when I say I’m a sinner.

I’m definitely not a good person, and I probably break more of God’s laws than many people who don’t even believe in Him. I’m detached and callous, I have anger issues, and if the morality police decided to come after me? Life sentence. There is nothing about me that qualifies me to be a Christian, and I’d be an even bigger liar if I told you I could change. It is not in me to love God, or even to love people well. I care, but only as much as my built-in resistance allows. I’m about as far from perfect as you’re likely to find on this planet, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I am a sinner. And that is why I need Jesus.

But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that, while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Romans 5:8 (NKJV)
New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson.

 

I Told Myself I Wouldn’t Do This, But…

28 Saturday Mar 2015

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I am Jamaican. I am a Christian. I am heterosexual.

And, I am deeply wounded by the way in which some Jamaicans, Christians, and heterosexuals are navigating the whole issue of homosexuality. Then again, maybe that’s it. Maybe, in the minds of those who so readily disregard gay people, they’re not even people–just an issue. Perhaps, in those minds, they’re the ones who are going to lead children astray, teach them that being gay is normal, force us to live in a world in which it is commonplace to see two men or women engaging in rather public displays of affection. Maybe they’re afraid, but enough is enough.

Who gave us the right to act as God’s mouthpiece, when we’re busy misrepresenting His intentions? Under whose authority do we decide that ‘the world’ that ‘God so loved’ did not include gay people? How do we live so comfortably with the idea that so many men and women are afraid of being true to themselves, because to do so would mean risking ostracism and even death?

It is indeed incredibly sad that so many people, Christians included, would rather focus on issues, all the while missing the very people involved. It is even more distressing that principles God laid down out of love for us, out of His commitment to our joy, have become fodder for cannons of condemnation. It is an injustice that God has so patiently given all of us time to come into the light, that He so relentlessly pursues us even after the light has found us, yet we want to cram truth down people’s throats in an effort to open their eyes.

I have had enough. Enough of young men being killed because a mob decided it wasn’t okay to be gay in their presence. Enough of ‘men’ forcing themselves on women in an effort to ‘straighten’ them. Enough of young people committing suicide because they were bullied for being gay. Enough of Scripture being flung at people, as if truth were meant to be wielded like a sword. Enough of this ‘them vs. us’ mentality. Enough of the notion that the fullness of the expression of grace reveals itself in heterosexuality–as if being straight offers any measure of protection from immorality.

We will never get anywhere until we move past the gay and start seeing the people. Maybe some of us will have to have gay sons, daughters, friends, uncles, nieces, etc., before we put a face to homosexuality. Maybe we already do, but they’re too afraid of our rejection. Maybe, like me, you will have to have someone you love and treasure be almost killed by law enforcement officers–and for what crime? Sitting on a park bench beside someone of the same sex.

Can we please stop pretending that being gay is the end of the world? Being gay does not make you more evil or less of a person than anyone else. It does not mean you decided to tell God and society to go self-fornicate, just so you could live your life. It does not mean you’re not special, beautiful, gifted, funny, insecure, angry, sad, hopeful, and anything else that fits on the spectrum of emotion. Being gay does not make you any less human.

We don’t all have to agree on how to approach life, but if we can’t agree on the sanctity of life, where is this civilisation of which we speak?

Before I Move On

14 Saturday Mar 2015

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A drop of snot should not be so powerful.

For all my doubting of my soul’s existence, there are things that just wreck my soul, if only for a moment. There I was, halfway into the journey home from a retreat, sitting in a coffee shop with my three co-workers, and I let my eyes wander, as usual. He…touched me, somehow. Sitting two tables away from us, I kept seeing him, even after looking away and returning to the discussion around me. I must have told myself to stop staring at least 10 times. Even my body shifted towards him. All because of one drop of snot, a beacon of sorts.

Was he crying? Was it just the weather? Did he not feel it? Balanced on the end of a nose perfectly at home in a face clichés do no justice. A face I hadn’t even noticed…because of that drop of snot. That’s when it hit me–I had seen him a few minutes earlier, reaching for one of the employment application forms. Seen him, but not noticed him, and suddenly I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I became aware of his restless hand motions as he filled out the application form, of the way he flipped through his tiny spiral notebook.

This complete stranger was suddenly real to me. He wasn’t just another face. He was human. Very much so. I had seen him, and I could not put him from my mind. Without even looking at me, he had collided into the place where I am most human.

“Is it weird to ask a stranger to borrow a pen?” The words were out before I could stop them, and my co-workers’ response gave me the courage to leave my seat. He gladly offered me a pen and a page from his book. Completely convinced of my official weirdo status, I wrote him a note, thanked him for his pen, and went back to our table.

A few minutes later, I was back, and he was nice enough to let me sit across from him, and we talked. Well, he did most of the talking. His name is John. Only then did I notice the state of his hands and jacket, and other tiny clues that should have alerted me. John is homeless. Still, for all that I was blind to, it was his utter humanity that spoke to me, that almost haunted me all the way home.

But, it won’t last.

Perhaps it is a consequence of our tendency to put adjectives in front of the word ‘people’, but we are such masters at missing the very thing that makes people who they are: their humanity. I do it, too. Incredibly easily. So, before I move on, I ask you to help me pray for John. More importantly (since prayer isn’t everyone’s thing), help me look for John–the John in each of us. Just a soul awaiting recognition.

I am by no means suggesting John needed to meet me. It seems I needed to meet him. He is more than a blog post. He is…strangely real. I pray for him, but I will move on. Because that’s what we do, isn’t it? We return to our lives, secure our own worlds, and express the requisite pity when the occasion calls for it. Should we enjoy whatever good there is to be found in this life? Definitely, but maybe we can take a moment to look. We just might find that place where we are all the same, and learn to live, one human with another.

We are not called by God to do extraordinary things, but to do ordinary things with extraordinary love.

– Jean Vanier, founder of L’Arche, 2015 recipient of the Templeton Prize