A wrestling match, and the truth.

So I was thinking, and praying, and wrestling last night with some anger, and came to this conclusion: people, in general, are full of shit. We are. We rip each other off, we tell lies, we get in each other’s way, and we’re a nuisance to each other and the planet. I wrestled with this, and asked directly what he did, since he once walked among us, and what we should do about it. My reply? That we need to be the truth to each other, like he was for us.

I am the way, the truth, and the life, he said. (John 14:6)

Wow. Erm, OK?

Which brings another thing to mind: how, exactly, are we to be the truth to each other? It means – correct me if I’m wrong – that we need to be Christlike to each other. That we need to be forgiving of each other’s trespasses. That we need to love one another like he loved us. Etc.

We’re not perfect, like he is. But we can certainly aim to be as much like him as possible, if we’ll only try.

Who am I? I am God’s rebellious daughter.

Ha.

I am not the model of a perfect Christian. Not at all, not by a long shot.

I am on the far side of 30, not married, no kids, no car, house, or white picket fence. I don’t have a permanent job, nor do I have a university degree.  I don’t conform to gender norms; I don’t have long hair, makeup, and I haven’t worn a skirt in several months.  I shaved my head, once, and not for charity or because I had cancer.  Oh, and I’m a rebellious ingrate who shoots her mouth off at any given opportunity.

By all accounts, I am a perfect loser.  Because, you see, the key to success is being a good contributor to the world, right?

The world. The world says: you must have your material things, your fancy purses, your spoiled, barking dogs, and your loud music.  I prefer to live simply.
What happens when you don’t have those things? Well, then you’re nothing, right?

Here’s what God says:

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.” Jeremiah 1:5

I am not an evangelist.  No one (that I know of) has come to Christ because of me.  But that doesn’t mean that I can’t be effective as someone set apart for God.  Nor can you, if you choose to follow and worship God and believe that he is who he says he is.

We don’t need stuff to make it in this world. It helps; there are certain things we need, like food, water, shelter, and transport. But the rest of it? We can live without it.  The fact of the matter is, all we need is the resources that God gave us – ourselves, and our talents – and when that isn’t sufficient, each other.

After all, if you’re nothing without your stuff, “it’s only when you’ve lost everything that you’re free to do anything.” (Fight Club).

Think not that I came to bring peace, but a sword.

…so says Matthew 10:34.  I know, I know, I am quoting Christ’s words directly, but I am doing so for a good reason. Bear with me.

I came home tonight full of rage and vitriol, angered by the way that some people are treated and have been treated by the church in recent memory.   This church – the one loved by so many – has also been a cold, unwelcoming place, and a place where people are regularly rejected by elders, families, and (so-called) friends.  God is a loving God and I do not believe that Emmanuel wants this to be the case. This place, emmanuelensis, is an LGBT-affirming haven where bullying is not allowed, and, where above all, Christ is Lord.  We are all his creatures, no matter our sexual preference, our religious identity, our shoe size, or any other individual issues. We. are. fallen.  Emmanuel is whole, and holy and will make us holy, if we only reach out to each other, and therefore, to him.

What do I rage against? I rage against the corruption in the church, racial divisions and now, rejection of sexual and gender identity groups. I rage against the harm that affects families when they reject a member of the family based on choices made by that member, and I raise the sword against injustice in the church. Is this a solution? Perhaps. At least it recognizes that there is a problem.

This rage does not aim to be unproductive. I aim to construct a way of doing things differently. I want to see peace in the church, and I want to see a place set for everyone, because Emmanuel would want it that way, not because the world wants it this way.