Last night I flew into Dallas for the Catalyst One Day conference. A friend of mine from undergrad saw I was coming in and got ahold of me, so we met up for (a very late) dinner.
Now this friend and I haven’t seen each other since 2003, but thanks to Interwebs, we have stayed in contact off-and-on. A few months ago, she posted an honest, heartfelt note on Facebook, seeking to engage us in some dialogue about some issues within Christianity that have troubled her. By the time I saw the note, quite a few persons had posted, including one individual who I’m sure was well-meaning, but whose posts were long and preachy, and which served to shut down discussion more than foster it. My friend confessed to me that she deleted the note out of embarrassment.
Since I’d never had the chance to engage her post online, I brought it up last night over dinner, and we had a great conversation about her faith journey, doubts included. I want to reflect for a moment on what she told me, and offer a couple of my thoughts.
She confessed that the picture of God that was most compelling to her right now is a god she can’t love. That picture is the god of the New Calvinism, who predestines individuals either to salvation or damnation. She told me that saw two pictures of God in the Bible – the vengeful, judgmental and capricious God who commands genocides and chooses our lives for us, then punishes us with eternal damnation for transgressions that are ultimately his responsibility, and the God who loves everyone, who gave up his life so that we might all be reunited with him. Given these two pictures of God, my friend told me that she couldn’t accept that they were different gods, and that a God of love couldn’t be the God of judgment and ineffable choosing. That a god who chooses to save some but not others doesn’t really love anyone, and – in her honest judgment – is not worthy of her own love.
We talked at great length about these pictures of God, and it’s not my purpose here to ask you for advice for her, or for you to ‘preach’ to her through my post. Rather, I want to offer you a reflection on her experiences that have led her to this dilemma (as I am interpreting them)
What I find interesting in reflecting on my friend’s conundrum is that, ultimately, she rejected the God of Love rather than the cruel, capricious god. In her mind (and I’m guessing probably subconsciously), she chose to believe that the texts that speak of a god of death and violence and irrational damnation are more true than the texts that speak of a self-giving, triune God. She can’t accept texts that teach a God of Love because she finds the texts that speak of a god of violence more compelling.* Why is this? Why does she find the violent texts more compelling than the love texts? Or, why didn’t she (probably subconsciously) accept the Love texts as the authoritative texts and have issues with the texts of violence?
I suggest (and forgive me, my friend, I have wronged you or misrepresented you), from conversation with my friend, that it’s because of the quality and character of those who claim to follow Jesus with whom she’s interacted of late. In our conversation, many of her stories about her interactions with Christ-followers revealed them to be cold, distant and judgmental. Much like the god she doesn’t find loveable in the Biblical texts. I wonder, had most of the believers she’s met in recent years practiced the art of hospitality and generosity, if they had truly modeled the Jesus we meet in the Scriptures, if she would’ve gravitated towards the God of Love rather than the god of violence. I wonder what her journey would look like.
In any case, I’m grateful that she’s still exploring, still listening to the Spirit within her who cries out to be known. And I look forward to traveling a ways with her.
“Let the Peace of Christ rule in your hearts.” Colossians 3:15
*I recognize that this is a conundrum many of us engage. I know we all have ways to reconcile this. I’m not interested in those right now; rather, I want to meet my friend on her journey and listen to her, to hear her. I’d invite you to do the same.
