Maybe We’re The Problem.

My circle includes tax collectors, prostitutes, and apostles. Some have been possessed by demons, some by the Holy Spirit. I count myself as a Christian, sometimes even a good one. But this weekend I started to think about just how good I am on a daily basis. The answer wasn’t what I’d hoped to find.

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The fact is, I was one of the imbeciles in church this morning marveling at all the “twice-a-year” Christians who showed up for their semi-annual visit. One witticism probably was justified, and it applies to all venues: if you used over 50% of the amount of material for your purse that you used for your dress, it’s probably too short. Other than that, I am rather ashamed tonight.

So what if they only come once a year? Maybe that’s the best they can manage, and it’s certainly better than spending the morning in an opium den (or the modern equivalent). Perhaps they are trying to restart their faith, and this is day one. Perhaps, just a chance, that they’re afraid of being judged by sanctimonious twits like me.

My judgement means nothing. His does. And He went to the cross for all of us. I’d best shut up.

Reading the news tonight, I read a long piece on President Trump’s Easter message. Again, I thought of all the smarmy members of my not-so-wonderful-club who mocked the man because he talked about a Bible verse and instead of saying “Second Corinthians” he said “Two Corinthians.” Strangely, I didn’t mock him, largely because if I don’t get it wrong about the Bible, it’s probably because I skipped that part. Yes, I’ve read the New Testament. Kind of a fan, some great writing. But if you want to quiz me on the Old Testament, I’m going to fail. I get the gist, read most of it, but there are parts that put me out like a bolt to the forehead in a slaughterhouse.

Reading Trump’s message made me realize that imperfect faith is still faith. People, like me, who haven’t ready every syllable, and who can’t quote passages at will, may not have the numbers right when you count the dots, but we (Trump included) get the gist. Isn’t that the point?

Probably as inarticulate a defense of a religious position as you’ll find, but it’s how I feel tonight. I’m a baby Christian by many measures. I’m going to try and quit judging those who try, because so many never even give it a nod.

Sorry, God: I’m a sinner and I’m going to work on it. You already paid the price 2,000 years ago and I’m not blind to that amazing gift.

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Maybe We’re The Problem. — 1 Comment