I was watching Charles Stanley on TV this morning—you know, one of those televised Sunday morning church services.  His topic was sinning against God, with special attention being paid to sexual sin.  I personally don’t differentiate between sins—it’s all the same to me (and to God, I suspect).  But, he chose to focus on this, and that focus gave me something to blog about!

 He said that sexual sin involved certain consequences, among them, low self-esteem, emptiness, and shame.  And this blanket set of consequences reminded me of a little something I read in a book by Lauren Winner.  She wrote of the “lies” church folks told her concerning sex—the feelings she would have and the overwhelming sense of regret she’d experience.  Another blogger (Nick P.) summed up her thoughts nicely:“The first lie is that pre-marital sex is guaranteed to make you feel lousy. Lauren suggests that we be honest and admit that it isn’t. Many people who are Christians can have sex outside of marriage. Some will regret it, but not everyone will. This is obvious on the face of it. If this were not enjoyable, why would people keep doing it? Since when were our feelings on an activity a barometer of whether or not it was right to do so? What’s the point in God giving us laws in Scripture if our feelings are enough? Now I realize there is some validity in the natural law, but I also place great emphasis on the prepositional truth that has been revealed in Scripture. If we tell people they will feel terrible though and they don’t, will they not doubt us in other areas? “Well, the pastor said I’d feel terrible and I feel great. I wonder what else he’s been less than honest about.” We need to realize that sin can bring pleasure. After all, if it didn’t, we wouldn’t do it.

Nick brings about an important point here—one that Quakers have always recognized (even if they don’t always do so today!)—our feelings cannot be a barometer for what is right and what is wrong.  That is the worse kind of ass-backwards logic I can imagine.  Our hearts are flawed, so it follows that any decisions based upon emotion alone (notice I said alone—I am not saying emotions should not be involved) will likely be flawed as well.

So, it would be better not to lie to people when discussing the consequences of sin.  Will you be letting God down?  Yes.  Will you be breaking the law?  Maybe.  Will you feel terrible during or after your sinful activity?  Not necessarily.  I loved having pre-marital sex, and I liked getting high even more.  So an argument based on “bad feelings” would have been useless to me.  Instead, talking about my sexual safety, health, the dangers I put myself in, and the worry I put God (and probably others) through would have been a more honest argument as to why I should have stopped.  It would behoove ministers like Stanley to consider this angle—his heart is in the right place (at least I feel like it is!), but his logic is flawed, and ultimately his message is weakened because of that.   

I saw this on a site I recently joined–the Aspies for Freedom community.  It’s a place where folks with autism can talk and blog, read articles, and such.  What I like most is that they are not for a cure–a movement I have come to support in recent months.  So, here it is:

Autistic adults can seem very much like typical adults if all you have to go on is a sample of something they have written, so diagnosing autistic adults or undiagnosing them based on what they write is pretty pointless. Many autistic adults can even pass for typical adults if you sort of tilt your head at an angle and squint and if they aren’t under too much pressure and/or aren’t cutting loose at a Star Trek convention.

They say an argument based upon emotion (rather than logic) is not a good one.  Well, I’ll try to base this blog upon logic, but I can’t say there won’t be any emotion present.  Today I watched one of my “favorite” kinds of TV shows—the Christian news broadcast.  I really despise these—they are one-sided, with a special commitment to the right wing agenda.  Any way, the one today was spotlighting the life of a TV pastor who recently passed away.  At the end of the story, the anchor said that those who love America and wish to see her return to her “biblically moral” foundations especially appreciated this pastor.

Let me first say that a comment like this ignores the obvious—America was not founded upon Christianity.  It was, in fact, founded by the native peoples who had long inhabited this land, and they had a variety of religious beliefs, none of which were Christian.  Christianity did not present itself here until those who claimed to know Christ stole this land.  Brian McLaren describes this steal-conquer-and subject way of founding a new nation beautifully:

In the old modern-colonial world, Christians could wish that everyone everywhere would just get with it and become proper…Christians like us.  In fact, non-Christians could be seen as stubborn rebels who refused to capitulate to the dominating truth.  They could either be seen as “in the way”, a problem to be removed through either conversion (forced or free) or ethnic cleansing… [Christians] showed boldness and confidence in the gospel through what appeared to outsiders (though not to ourselves) as bombast, arrogance, disrespect, and insensitivity. 

So to argue about America’s religious foundations while simultaneously ignoring the people and faiths that were already present here is to deny the real truth.  And let me just say that I don’t believe God gave America to us—Jesus never endorsed stealing, which is precisely how America was “acquired”.

But eventually Christianity did make its way here, via the European settlers who journeyed here.  But that Christianity is one that I would hardly think folks would want to return to, if they considered it deeply.  For one thing, there was not the freedom that some people would have us believe.  Any one who dared to believe something slightly different (and I’m not talking about a whole different religion, I’m talking about deviating from the common understanding of the church at that time) faced jail, banishment, or death.  A look at Quaker history in this country is evidence enough of that.  When people did something wrong, they were subject to harsh, even cruel punishment that I doubt that even the most “conservative” among us would like to see.  I say this because such harsh rules did not produce actual followers of Christ—it simply produced people afraid of getting into trouble and who therefore lived by the rules.  Is that really what certain Christians want us to return to?  If so, then that desire is not born out of a concern that folk know Christ, rather it comes from a desire to have everyone act the same, which is comfortable for some (and misery for a great deal more).

But I caution those who agree with me to view our true history with understanding.  Again, McLaren writes:

We can apologize for the sins of our fathers [and mothers] in such a way that we render ourselves arrogantly superior to them, insensitive both to the challenges of their milieu and to our present and anticipated failures in our own.  So [we must be humble], showing respect for our ancestors in the faith, for what they have handed down to us…even if we have reason to be painfully embarrassed by their racist, sexist, and imperialist bias.

I have a book about crime in the 1930’s, and there is a revealing quote on the cover—“proof that there were never any ‘good old days’”.  It would behoove us to recognize that indeed there weren’t any better days in the past.  Instead of wishing for a “better time” (keep in mind that that ‘better time” was only better for some—just ask a woman or a black person), we should work to make this time a good one, understanding that God’s kingdom is, after all, present and alive.  We need only to jump in and be a humble, loving, and obedient part of it to make this life better.

Poor Tony the simple churches guy.  Last night, he had to listen to me rant about my anger and disillusionment with the NC Quaker community.  This is a complaint he hears from me all the time—albeit in different forms.  But the underlying point is always the same: I am mad at certain people for the way they think and behave, and because of that I refuse to participate in any activities that involve these folks.  And worse, I don’t support his efforts to communicate with these people, nor do I believe his work will make a difference.  It’s not that I don’t believe in him—it’s that I don’t believe in them.

Well, I know there is a glaring inconsistency here—that I preach reconciliation and love and do not appear to be heeding my own advice.  But allow me to explain my grouchiness.  It’s not that I hate these folks—I don’t.  The real problem is that I’m afraid of them.  See, the last time I was in their midst, even in their good graces, I offended them by going my own way.  I felt that I had to go in a direction that was consistent with God’s leadings—this in the form of how Hillel does “church”, the side I was taking with certain issues, and even the way I presented myself as a Pastor.  I told Tony the simple churches guy that I had to unplug from the larger Quaker institution in order to realize myself.  But, this hasn’t sat well with certain above-mentioned people, and it’s made me unpopular—I’ve been criticized, humiliated, and judged for this move.  And because of that, I am afraid to be around them—I don’t want to be “spat at”, so to speak.  Therefore I avoid them. 

I realize this is probably an immature way to handle this problem.  But the wisdom, grace, and patience exhibited by Tony the simple churches guy and others (like Max the Quaker guy), is something, I suspect, that comes with age.  I am simply too young, I think, to know how to act the way they do.  So instead I act like a close-minded hot head.  It’s hard for me to forget things (Temple Grandin, the famous autistic scientist, says autistic people have a very long memory when it comes to trauma), and even harder to let things go.  But I honestly believe I have forgiven them for their actions—but as I know they haven’t changed their ways, I am not ready, at least at this time, to put myself in their harmful path again.  Perhaps this really comes down to trust.  I don’t trust them, but really, does forgiveness necessitate trust?  I just don’t know…

What exactly is a Christian?  It’s the theme throughout the postings on this blog.  It’s a question that I think should be quite simple to answer, and yet it isn’t (at least for some).  Well, John Hagee turns this around and offers up who is not a Christian.  He wrote the words used as the title for this posting.  You may be wondering how I know this—well, I was reading his book.  Normally, I don’t pay attention to such rubbish (yes, I’m still reading the latest Harry Potter book and have gleaned some new vocabulary words!), but I knew that whatever was in his book was bound to anger me, so I took a peek.  Suffice it to say that I got what I was looking for, and perhaps deserved—I really should know better than to read this stuff. 

He made his judgmental proclamation in reference to the homosexuality “problem”.  This topic just happens to be the problem de jour for a large number of North Carolina Quakers.  It threatens to split up an already fragmented Friends community.  At the heart of the debate, I believe, is really the question of who is and who isn’t—a Christian, that is.  If you take the Hagee view, then those of us who don’t are doomed (in more ways that one).  But I think a more important question to ask is whether or not it’s our job to make such judgments.  I’m not so sure that it is.  Paul is pretty clear about that in Romans: “So where does that leave you when you criticize a brother? … Forget about deciding what’s right for each other.  Here’s what you need to be concerned about: that you don’t get in the way of someone else, making life more difficult than it already is… So let’s agree to use our energy in getting along with each other.  Cultivate your own relationship with God…” (Taken from the Message, Matthew 14).  Now, I’m addressing the Christian community here (although I believe we are to get along with everyone).  Our job is not to point fingers and say who’s in and who’s out based upon interpretation of Scripture.  Armed with a point of view like Hagee’s, we could condemn a lot more than just homosexuals—women who serve in the ministry, men who treat their wives as equals, those who don’t baptize with water.  You get the point.  But armed with a point of view such as Paul’s, we realize that what is important is getting along—doing that will accomplish a lot more than bickering and hurtful condemnation.  And it will free up our hearts to let God do the work.

I’m going to tell a little autism story here that will make my final point.  When I found out I had autism, I told Ernest the autism guy that I wanted to meet others who had my type of autism—Asperger’s syndrome.  He said something that has really made an impression on me: sharing a condition does not mean that there will be kinship.  That doesn’t mean there can’t be, but it does mean that it will not come automatically.  I found out the truth in this statement recently—I met another “Aspie”, and he drove me crazy!  But maybe it’s because we share many of the same characteristics.  Although Aspie’s differ from one another, they share some unique quirks that tend to annoy and even baffle neurotypicals.  So I decided that in order to have kinship with this person, I’d have to work at it.  I’d have to stop judging him, and look past the things I didn’t like.  I’d have to appreciate him simply because we share the same plight—that is what creates kinship.  And so it must be with those who make up the Christian community.  Simply because we love and follow Jesus does not mean we will be in agreement and have automatic kinship.  Perhaps it should, but we’re dealing with people here, and that means we’re dealing with flaws.  In order to be a cohesive unit of Christ followers, we’re going to have to work at it.  That means not judging each other, or accusing those who don’t believe exactly as we do as not being Christians.  The fact that we’re here, serving Christ, should mean something.  No, we will never agree on how to interpret Scripture, but is that really important?  I don’t think so; I think what’s important is that we love Jesus and have chosen to follow him.  If someone is doing something “wrong”, and they really love Christ, than I believe he will let them know.  It’s his job, not ours.  That doesn’t mean that he won’t use us to assist in that process, but we must make damn sure that it’s his will, not ours.  During the Quietist period in Friends history, Quakers waited a long time—months sometimes—to give a message to their fellow believers.  They were so concerned that it was God’s message being spoken and not theirs that they waited and waited to speak.  Perhaps we should take a leaf out of their book when “advising” our brothers and sisters in Christ.  But saying that they are not Christians because of the way they read the Bible doesn’t sound like God’s direction to me.  So our job is not to condemn, judge, or make someone’s life more difficult than it already is—it’s to see past the things we don’t like, or don’t think may be consistent with our view of Scripture, and kindle the kinship that exists among followers of Christ.  If the Quakers in North Carolina busy themselves with that task instead, then perhaps a split is avoidable.