I rarely sugarcoat anything. I usually say what pops into my head. And whether or not you want to know what I think about something, I’m probably going to tell you. I’m often blunt to a fault, although I try to be tactful {my friends are laughing and/or rolling their eyes right about now}. If I’m quiet, I’m either tired, mulling over something weighing on my mind, scoping out a new situation, or practicing keeping my mouth shut.
Lately, I plop a scoop of cynicism atop my heap of realism. I add an extra helping of criticism when the subject is religion or theology.
My husband told me about a recent conversation he had with an acquaintance. The person was apparently excited about some things that had happened at his church. When Mark shared the story with me, my response was: That’s b.s. I don’t buy that for a second.
Later, as two of my daughters and I were driving home from a quick shopping trip, out of the blue, my youngest started asking questions about “Satan.” Where does he live? Why did he get kicked out of heaven? Does he drive a car? Has he ever been to Alabama? Does he really have a red face and horns? I answered her questions as simplistically as I could, and as best I knew how. But when the questions were over, I was still contemplating her questions, and my answers. I considered some thoughts I’ve only given attention to a couple of times in my life: Do I really believe all this? It seems so fantasy-landish. Is there really good and evil? What if when we die, we just die? Hmmm…maybe I believe some of it, but not all of it. God, where ARE you??!!! {Like I mentioned in the first paragraph, I rarely sugarcoat anything…especially when I’m seeking God.}
Of course, these thoughts have gone no further than my husband’s ears…until now.
I feel the need to say that I’m disheartened, or maybe heavy-hearted, by sugar-coated religion {or Christianity…or whatever you want to call it}. I come into contact with people who need to hear the reality of how God has changed lives. They need hope. I need hope!
It does me {and probably few others} little good to hear Christians’ polished, rosy stories of how God protected them from any real wrongdoing. It does me little good to hear how God is growing a church in numbers. I {we} need to hear how all {every single one} of us were dead in our sins, and only by faith in Grace are we alive! But I’m not sure many Christians really believe they were ever truly dead in their sins. I think many believe like I used to: I didn’t really see myself as dead in sin. I’d heard from infancy that I needed rescuing so I could go to heaven. That was my only motivation for salvation; i.e., escape from hell.
If that’s all there is, I guess it would have to be good enough.
But there’s more…so much more.
The reality is that Jesus changes the lives of those who allow Him. He gently and lovingly calls out the worst in us, and redeems it. But for the life of me, I sometimes want to see that redemption completed! And many need to see and hear how it began. But if Christians are busy spouting off theology, or church growth numbers, or their own good deeds, we’re not sharing the power of the gospel…Grace. Without grace, there’s little {or no} hope. Too many crash and burn under the weight of the very questions I occasionally contemplate.
I’ve thought about all of this a lot in recent weeks. The more I face the reality of my questioning and doubting, the more I realize this is where faith comes in. It helps me understand that my story {my struggle} is one to be shared…because that’s where God is most visible in me…in my weakness. Isn’t that the hope every, single one of us needs?
