Man, I want what I was promised.
When the fervor and grace of Christianity hits you the first time it feels like the puzzle pieces finally fit. It feels like nothing could ever be as whole and as perfect as loving this man called Jesus. And in that moment you are correct, there is nothing as perfect and as whole as getting to know God. It changes everything.
Now, looking at myself, I can see clearly that I am just another cynical, burned out Christian who has lost her sense of direction. I told my friend that it feels like I have been stepped on and I think that is a fairly accurate representation. The amount of bitterness I feel towards the church is concerning and I haven’t felt safe in a church in years. I could go into details about all the gore and horror and shame of not being the ideal Christian anymore but the last thing the world needs is another scathing critique of Christianity.
I want what I was promised.
I want the Dream Center, all in for Jesus life with a community of people who are spreading light alongside me. I want the joy and singing of knowing that you are doing your best to help your brothers and sisters. I want there to be no hiprocracy, sexism (by the way, God may not have a Y chromosome) and misuse of wealth in the church. I want people like me who have dirty mouths and make mistakes to feel safe at church. I want there to be a broader definition of what it means to be Christian.
The thing is, I don’t know if this is possible right now. All of the spiritual trauma is adding up and I don’t know how much more of this half-done, bland, uninspired Christianity I can take. They have taken the words of Jesus, a man I happen to love, and have twisted them until they sound a lot like their own. My goodness if we were actually doing what the Bible says, would we really be living the way we do? On top of piles of wealth, acquiring and acquiring for no real reason at all, ignoring the cries of our brothers and sisters?
Now, being the hyprocrite that I am, it is easy for me to say all of these things as an observer, and a judgmental one at that. I don’t think I really partake in church anymore, I just watch. It is easy for me to condemn something I don’t really understand.
I just want church to be better, I see how much better it could be. But does that really matter? Is church really the means to the end?
I think this all is about the Desert Wanderer’s promise. It’s about “come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.” It’s about the joy and singing that comes when you are becoming closer to the person that God designed you to be. It’s about that sunrise feeling, knowing that God put that there. It’s all the wonder and wholeness and peace of the first time you really felt God. The whimsy and magic melts away cynicism and bitterness. The purpose and fervent sense of direction. I want that, I want church to be a reflection of that, I want it to be a bunch of wonder-bent, heart-open people who want to spread light. I want the promises of Jesus to sound like His voice, and not like the people I’m talking to. The empty tomb should mean something. We shouldn’t keep watering it down.
I want it to feel like Easter every day.