Moira is worried that she hasn’t been fulfilling her obligations as a wife. What if her husband doesn’t agree?
This story contains adult themes. Non-explicit references to intimate acts.
[Read more…] about By the Book
Moira is worried that she hasn’t been fulfilling her obligations as a wife. What if her husband doesn’t agree?
This story contains adult themes. Non-explicit references to intimate acts.
[Read more…] about By the Book
The other day, David Hayward (a.k.a. Naked Pastor) updated his Facebook status thus:
It’s going to hurt anyway. So if you’re going to love, give it everything.
He’s right. We can’t save ourselves from hurt by refusing to expose ourselves to love. That in mind, we may as well dive right into the deep end.
Because love doesn’t just hurt when we give it away and we’re rejected. It doesn’t just hurt when we suffer abuses at the hands of another. It doesn’t just hurt when our personal romance novel ends. It hurts when we see others rejected, abused, and lonely.
It’s been a rough couple of weeks for a lot of people. Right now, many people are grieving the recent deaths of students at a local high school. (Two very different situations, but both tragic for the loss of young lives.) Although I didn’t personally know either of the students, I do know people who did. My heart aches for their loss.
If I chose to, I could wall myself off from others’ grief. I could turn the other way, pretend it didn’t exist. But if I do that, I miss out on the richness of a life lived in symbiosis with others. In building my wall, I create my own prison. I won’t avoid tragedies in my own life, but I may keep everyone else out, leaving myself no one to help carry my pain. Not only that, I will effectively keep out joy. I will miss out on all the good things that come from loving others and being loved in return.
There is no way to live on this earth without experiencing hurt. There is only go through it alone, or with others. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather keep the doors and windows of my heart wide open so I can know the fullness of joy, despite the pain.
If we, as Christians and as churches, want to be known for our love and compassion, we might consider the ways in which we make some people feel rejected by Christ. There are no people in existence for whom God does not possess infinite love and compassion. Sometimes we need to draw on that, even when we feel uncomfortable. I distinctly remember the turning point for me when I realized just how little we sometimes do to reach out to others.
About four years ago, I was at a multi-church function.* I had the misfortune of hearing several pastors discussing how to handle difficult situations that had arisen in their congregations. One pastor shared that a “man” dressed as (and probably living as) a woman had come to his church. As he began, a couple of the others were nodding in approval. They seemed to feel that this was a good sign, a sign that the church was reaching out with open, loving arms. The pastor went on to explain that he had been “uncomfortable” with this person. After the church service, he approached the visitor and explained that she would need to dress “appropriately” (that is, as a man) if she wanted to continue to attend. The pastor went on to say that it was “distracting” to the other congregants. The pastor concluded his story by telling the others that the visitor had, as yet, not returned to the church. He shrugged, and affixed blame squarely on the shoulders of the visitor–if she didn’t want to comply with the dress code, it was her loss.
My feelings, in that moment, went from disbelief to confusion to outright anger.
I have many friends who have varying opinions about transgendered individuals, so for the moment, I want everyone to just lay aside your personal feelings. Right now, I am considering one thing: How does God expect us to treat people who come into our churches? I understand that the leadership (and perhaps the pastor in particular) at that church likely believe that the transgendered person was a man with a fetish or a psychological problem or a “sin issue.” Regardless, they still handled it badly.
Jesus, who “died for us while we were yet sinners” (Romans 5:8), who urges “all you who are weary and burdened” to come to him for rest Matthew 11:28), does not expect us to clean ourselves up before we approach the throne of grace. When Jesus spoke to the woman at the well, he never told her that her live-in lover ought to move out. He didn’t condemn the woman caught in adultery. He allowed a prostitute to wash and embrace his feet, despite the protests of the religious leaders. I doubt sincerely that he would have cast out a transgendered person for her manner of dress.
That church allowed someone to leave without really hearing the message of Jesus. That pastor discouraged someone in need from receiving care. Here came a person, hoping that church would provide shelter, love, and answers to life’s hurts. Instead, she found rejection and alienation. Is that really what we want to be known for? Is that how we reflect God’s love to others?
We may feel uncomfortable in certain situations. We still have a responsibility to show love and extend grace.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
*I am being intentionally vague here so that the event and people in question can remain safely anonymous.