Things Christians Need To Say

We Christians love to make fun of our “Christianese” jargon and sayings. 

Relevant Magazine, the Huffington Post, and others have all talked about all the stupid things we say. There's the fun video about "Shoot Christians Say." One of my favorite Christian video makers, BlimeyCow, made a satirical video about Christianese that I love.

And recently I came across a great post by Michael J. Murray with his own ides of what things Christians need to stop saying.

(Of course, I read this post while I was composing my own rant about clichés Christians say, which started after seeing what I thought was a very naive and insensitive picture.)

 

But Murray said something I think few people have said: “Christians should stop saying that Christians should stop saying stuff.”

I was thinking, “Yeah! Tell ‘em!” 

Then I remembered the blog post I was writing. And I realized I was doing exactly what I agreed people should stop doing: telling people what not to say.

Whoops.

“What’s trite and obnoxious to one person might be quite meaningful to another. Words that sound profane and offensive to me could be the very words you need to hear to know you are loved,” Murray said.

Funny how he’s right. The picture I found offensive one of my aunts later shared as an encouragement.

So, instead of my planned post about things Christians shouldn’t say, here a couple thing I wish Christians would say more to the community around us.

1:

“God loves you.”

I know. We’ve heard it a thousand times. But do we say it often enough, particularly to the people outside the church? Or do people waving signs saying "God Hates Fags" characterize us more?

Sometimes we don’t say “God hates you” outright. We just suggest it. 

God loves you . . . unless you’re gay. God loves you . . . unless you had an affair. God loves you . . . unless you had an abortion.

The funny thing is, all those things happen because people are looking for love. Yes, what they did or are doing is wrong, but the reasons behind them go straight back to love.

We see the girl walking into the clinic to get an abortion. But we don’t see the mistakes she made that led her there, the nights she gave herself to men, looking for someone to love her unconditionally. We don’t see the tears, the shame that led her here, trying to correct her mistakes and hoping no one finds out she’s pregnant.

And we don’t tell her how much God loves her. Yes, God loves the baby inside her, But we neglect to say that God loves her. She’s made mistakes, and maybe about to make another one. But God loves her unconditionally. Just like he loves the people searching for love in affairs or in the arms of someone who’s the same sex that they are.

2:

“The loss is still real.”

One of the issues I still have with the inspiring picture about giving thanks is that it feels very trite to people currently struggling with pain. And I think we as Christians forget to tell people it’s okay to hurt.

C.S. Lewis said in Perelandra, “God can make good use of all that happens. But the loss is real.”

It’s easy to say that God will work all things to our good. But we forget to stop and feel with those who mourn and hurt. We give quick answers to their questions, spout clichés and biblical promises. But in all honesty I doubt we know the answers to their questions born of their pain. And sadly we’re not willing to admit that we don’t. We try to encourage people yet we ignore the grief of loss. We ignore the pain.

Stop and listen. And comfort. You may not know how to handle someone’s pain. But they still want to know that their pain is real and valid. They want to know that it is okay to hurt.

So let’s be honest. Let’s say we don’t understand, that we don’t have all the answers. That they have lost something valuable and it’s okay to grieve for it.

3:

“I'm sorry.”

We have to admit we're wrong, when we make a mistake and we hurt someone else. We need to ask forgiveness. When we say, "I'm sorry," we convey a message of love. We convey that we are trying to love and that we sometimes don't get it right. 

It calls for humility and strength. It's harder to admit you were wrong than to insist you are right. But it's part of being a Christian. We are to be reconciled to one another. Jesus said in Matthew that if we know that we have a problem with someone, or they have a problem with us, we are supposed to go and fix it. That may mean apologizing to them. 

This summer, Exodus International made their own apology to the gay community after they decided to shut down. Alan Chambers specifically wrote an apology to those hurt by the Church, who were driven away by the Westboro Baptist stereotype of rejection.

"More than anything, I am sorry that so many have interpreted this religious rejection by Christians as God’s rejection.  I am profoundly sorry that many have walked away from their faith and that some have chosen to end their lives. For the rest of my life I will proclaim nothing but the whole truth of the Gospel, one of grace, mercy and open invitation to all to enter into an inseverable relationship with almighty God."

The world would be a far better place if we would admit to others that we are wrong occasionally. It offers people the chance to forgive and show mercy. And it shows the world what we constantly claim: We are sinner, just like everyone else. Our difference is that we have been forgiven.

These words are not earth-shattering. They aren’t brilliant. but maybe they can help us change our world for the better.

Remember, God loves you. And I'm trying to as well.

To the Risen

***EDIT: This post was originally titled, "To the Fallen." Upon reflection I realized my friends, while having died, have not fallen. They have risen to new life in Christ, a life in which they know understand and see fully, the veil of this mortal life having been stripped away.***

You never forget your first friend to die.

They might have been taken in an accident. They might have been overcome by suicide. But they leave an indelible mark on your soul.

Within the last 4 years, I have had four different friends die. Two died with months of each other.  It made me think Death was hounding me, like Final Destination, or something. That feeling has since dissipated, but it hurt to watch my friends' loved ones suffer through the pain of their loss.

Now, with time having past and giving me separation from Death's biting sting, I can look back on their lives with smiles, and not so much pain. I've thought of what I would say to two of those friends who died, and this is it.

To my dear friend Abby,

Oh, Abby. I know I was likely one of the least of your friends. But you were my first friend to die. The first light I saw go out. I have never forgotten you. Your smiling eyes. Your beautiful voice. Your love for God that seeped through every pore as I watched you worship on stage during church each Sunday. I guess these details are etched in my mind like the afterimage of a brilliant flash is burned into retinas.

I remember how much you were passionate for God. And I remember you caring about me. You were one of the first people to welcome me and my family to church seven years ago. And I still remember that one song you played for Easter, almost six or seven years ago. You know, I think it's one of the only songs that has stuck with me throughout my life. I still play it often, whenever I feel sad, or want to remember God loves me.

Thank you Abby, for burning so brightly. Thanks for loving your Savior so well. I still look up to you as an example of what it means to desire God and His will with all your heart. I will never forget you.

Enjoy a dance with Jesus for me, please.

And to Josh Larkin,

Josh, I wish I had known you better. You too have a legacy. You cared so deeply about people. You loved others as much as yourself and God. I know. I know because after you died, the whole campus grieved. People still think, still talk, still miss you, a year after you've passed away. And, quite frankly, no one cared about my blog as much as they did when I wrote my small tribute to you. :)

I wish I could do you better justice. I wish we had been better friends. I wish your life hadn't ended so tragically. But your death is not your legacy. Your life is. You burned brightly! People looked (and still currently look) up to you. And as deeply as you loved, we still love you Josh. We still miss you. We still remember you and your life. You will never be forgotten by us.

Lessons from Pippin

When you think of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, who do you think of? Aragorn, the man who becomes King of Gondor? Frodo, the tragic bearer of the One Ring? Gandalf, whose epic power knows no bounds? Or Samwise, the faithful friend?

Or how about Pippin?

Not likely.

Pippin is not a hero. Not in any sense of the word. In the movie, he is somewhat clueless and happy-go-lucky. Of the four Hobbits, he is the least likely hero. So what does that make Pippin? The comic relief?
Usually, he’s the idiot. He's the one who alerts the goblins (and the wonderful cave troll) that the Fellowship is in Moria. He's the one who blows Frodo's cover in Bree. He (along with Merry and Sam) cooks food because he's hungry, alerting the Nazgul where the Hobbits are hiding. And he's the one who gets an apple thrown at his head by a frustrated Aragorn because, again, he's hungry.

But is that the extent of his character? His purpose? Not really.

In The Two Towers, Pippin has one small stroke of genius by telling Treebeard to take them to Isengard, which causes Fangorn Forest to go to war. Then he shows his true worth and character in The Return of the King where he fights alongside Gandalf and the soldiers of Gondor during the Battle of Minas Tirith.

Pippin, though an idiot, shows that not everyone has to be Frodo and carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. He wasn't even the guy who stayed by Frodo until the end or won a major victory and become king!

At the end of the day, Pippin was the guy who danced on tables singing drinking songs. He was the good guy everyone loves. He wasn't brilliant or powerful or talented. He was normal. He was himself almost an "everyman" character.

God doesn’t call everyone to carry heavy burdens like Frodo’s Ring. Not everyone has earth-shattering, heart-breaking testimonies of God’s power. Lord knows that there have been times I’ve listened to other people share testimonies and wish I had been on drugs at some point, or had something to beef up my testimony. But God has a purpose for us, just like Pippin had a purpose.

Sometimes being normal isn’t bad. Sometimes, it’s exactly what God wants you to be.

Need for Value

You know those occasional blog posts I do that are really just a way for me to cry out and see if anyone’s listening and if anyone knows or understands how I feel? This is one of those. So, if you’re not interested, don’t continue.

I’m the third child in my family, the youngest. And, quite frankly, sometimes I feel like I’m the least noticeable. I don’t try to make trouble for my parents. Lord knows they have enough on their plates as is. But often I feel like I’m a mistake, like I’m extra. Now, my family would vehemently deny this, but it’s true. I feel as though sometimes I’m a random accident. My sister, well, she’s a miracle child. I’ve heard the story of her birth so many times I could recite it backwards and forwards. But me? I’m nothing special. I just randomly popped out about twenty months after she did.

And often, I feel like, for better and worse, I live in the shadows of my siblings. Which is really frustrating, let me tell you.

I need to find a purpose! And not like I need to read A Purpose-Driven Life. I mean that these days I struggle to find a reason for my existence. I look for a purpose. Why am I here? And if someone recites the idiotic catechism about the chief role of man is to praise God and honor him, I’m going to scream. Because, while that is my ultimate purpose, there’s times when I need something more concrete, something that says I’m not a mistake. I need to know that I’m worth the time. That I’ll be remembered. That I’m not a worthless piece off biology that came into being.

I know that for some people, this sounds ludicrous. Stupid even. But, I’ll imagine that most of you are extremely secure in your positions in your family and don’t have a precarious field that is your realm of study (or you’re a teenager whose main goal in life is to have fun and survive high school).

I guess part of this is issues from this summer, where I worked behind the scenes at a camp, and I felt like, other than making some money for college, I didn’t do anything of value or significance.  And I’m still struggling because, unlike my siblings, I feel like I have to work extremely hard to fight to just be me, to prove to myself and people around me that I am worth it! That I have some value.

And I’m studying in a really small field in a super selective program. Again, chosen because of my rather paltry skill set, and because I felt like it would get me to my goals. But unlike so many in my major, I suffer from feeling like a fraud of a writer. I’m not active enough in my writing or prolific. I don’t succeed where so many others have. I’m just average. I’m just boring. So, am I worth it?

Great question, answers…. Lacking, I’m afraid. How do you prove to yourself that you have significance and value? I don’t know. I need to have a real purpose, something that God has that only I can do. I know, that’s likely rather prideful and pig-headed. But it’s something that I know I need. I need to know that I’m not a mistake, or a failure. I want so desperately to know God’s plan for me because then I could say definitively that there is a specific reason I am here and that God did not create someone else in my stead.

So, is there anyone else out there like me? Or am I alone in the questions and doubts? And fears?