I am no longer a Christian. At least, according to a Facebook post I scrolled past the other day. I am no longer a Christian because my views do not align perfectly with other Christians and most importantly, I am not a Republican. I am no longer a Christian because I will not be voting for Donald Trump this November.
I am no longer a Christian despite being baptized in the faith as a child, recommitting myself to the promise of that baptism in my early 20s, and traveling to Jerusalem standing in awe of the road in which Jesus carried the cross. I am no longer a Christian even though I have prayed numerous prayers and studied scripture more in-depth than most will do in their lifetime. I am no longer a Christian because it seems as though Christianity does not want me.
Christianity does not want me because I believe that while some issues are binary, many are much greyer than we care to admit. Christianity does not want me because I am hesitant to be a part of something that does not welcome all people into a kingdom. Christianity does not want me because I believe it is okay to say, “BLACK LIVES MATTER,” without hesitation because I studied a sacred book who identifies and elevates different voices, time and time again. Christianity does not want me because I question, wrestle, and argue against its teachings and my faith, much like the people within the text, and who have studied the text, many of whom are considered saints. All of which has been done for millennia. Christianity does not want me because I question many of the voices we have deified (made-god) for centuries in turn ignoring the valuable perspectives and understandings of faith from so many more.
I am no longer a Christian and Christianity does not want me, but that is okay. I am not sure I want to be a part of that Christianity anyways.
I am not here to please Christianity and the ideologies of other Christians. I am here to follow Christ…and I believe that makes me a Christian. Maybe not the Christian some want me to be or a part of the Christianity that is paraded as the ‘right’ way, but I believe in the words of Jesus, following Christ is what was intended (Matt. 16:24-26). To walk such a path and to carry a cross, calls us to question the things that create impediments to this place becoming a place of justice, refuge, and love; for all people, not just the ones who say a pledge of allegiance and vote a certain way. Moreover, it calls us to question the motivations behind and beyond our desires.
I desire to be a Christian that mourns the death of Cannon Hinnant, yet cries and fights for justice for Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Jacob Blake, and so many more. I desire to be a Christian who does not attach myself too close to politicians, public figures, and movements that seek to serve or preserve the distorted images of individuals and this country, or that promote continued polarization. I would much rather seek people who have a passion for unity and who focus on the lives of those around us. The lives of people who look like me and do not look like me. The lives of people who think like me and do not think like me. The lives of people who were born with the same opportunities that I have and the lives of those who were born without. I do not desire to be a Christian who repeats, “this is not my home,” but a Christian that seeks to make “earth as it is in heaven,” (Matt. 6:10).
In a generation of uncertainty, it is perplexing to find, the number of people who are certain; not to mention, the number of Christians who are certain. Ironically, Jesus asked FAR more questions than he gave answers. Rather than performing theological gymnastics to determine if I just committed heresy by proclaiming that Jesus did not know something (look for the word omniscient in your Bible, I will wait), let us instead concede we may not know everything ourselves, but that this life is about more than being “right,” it is about more than just me.
This life is not about building walls to determine who is inside and who is outside – which is perhaps one of the greatest fallacies of the Evangelical movement – it as about tearing down the damn walls that have prevented us from loving our neighbor; it is about finding more ways to participate in the work of making this place kingdom-like. This life is about inviting people in, to be in community together. It is about inclusion. We spend too much time focusing on what we have been told instead of challenging our understanding of God. We pick and choose from minuscule points that have nothing to do with the bigger picture of our existence. We live in the minutia of Romans 1, instead of rejoicing like an exasperated Paul in Romans 8: Nothing can separate us from the love of God.
This reflection may frustrate or anger some. It may cause several to “pray for my salvation,” or resort to apologetics to tell me why I am wrong. But this was not for them.
This was for the people who have been watching the walls being built and have not felt like they have a place for faith anymore. This is for the people who have a voice but cannot be heard over the construction of hate. This is for the people who needed someone to say that there is hope.
Whoever you are, I am right there with you, and I love you.