Hypocrisy

I’ve noted two instances of hypocrisy over the last week that are worth noting. Both have to do with Christians in the news, and both illustrate my deep frustrations with my fellows in my faith.

First is the Rick Santorum “…separation of church and state…makes me want to vomit…” story.

Here’s what Rick, a guy who identifies with the so-called Christian Right, is telling the world: The founding fathers of America saw no separation of church and state, and this is God’s country; “in God we trust” blah blah blah… we can legislate morality. You know the stories. This is what the so-called Christian Right pushes for – the “good old days,” the Ten Commandments in court houses and schools, etc.

Yet when the State (Federal Govt.) wants to be part of this relationship and mandates that even employers who are religiously affiliated must pay for birth control (a policy that I strongly oppose, but for different reasons), the so-called Christian Right types like Santorum don’t want their combined Church & State.

See, this is why Church & State must be separate – they must be mutually exclusive. There’s no good reason to have a religion telling the state what to do in terms of morality, nor is there any good reason for the State to tell a religion what to do in terms of morality (a la “women’s health rights” = providing birth control). It’s a messed up relationship every time it’s tried.

Did you know that C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity that he thought there should be two types of marriage? One by the Church, and one by the Government. Mutually exclusive. It makes sense, and takes care of the gay marriage issue.

The second instance of hypocrisy is with regard to the burning of a Quran by US military, and the Muslims that have responded by killing US troops.

Our president, Obama, responded with an apology, and that caused the talking heads on the right to huff and puff. I cannot figure out what the big deal is about Obama apologizing. All these pro-war talking heads say is, “Well, where is the apology from the Muslims who have murdered in response to the burning of a holy book?!” As if they expect people of such low intelligence to be able to produce such logic.

But what I take issue with in terms of hypocrisy is that these same talking heads and pundits are just as quick to call America a Christian Nation.

Hey Christian, here’s a reminder of something terribly basic: When mankind murdered God’s son, Jesus, God’s reaction was love and forgiveness that you claim to adhere to. He said Go and do likewise. When Peter sliced off the ear of a Roman soldier who was about to take Jesus to his death, Jesus’ response was to heal the ear of his enemy. Jesus taught to love your enemy. He said if someone slapped you in the face, provide your other cheek for another slapping.

Yet to the so-called Christian Right, God’s will is that we dish out revenge like the world has never seen.

Look, America is not a Christian Nation. Never has been. That said, as a purely secular nation made up of secular humanist laws, dishing out revenge is totally acceptable and in-line with the secular humanist mind. Just keep Christianity out of it. Don’t lie about Christianity by in one breath wanting your version of justice, and in the next tout how America is a Christian Nation. All you are doing, Christian, is creating more stuff you need to hit your knees and repent for.

No fire

I realized recently that over the last few months the fire within me was extinguished, and I don’t know when this happened.

Realizing this encouraged me to quickly retrace my life steps – big picture stuff, no details. It goes like this:

• 2009: Year Of Death. Death to my grandpa, a pillar of my life. Death to my original house church, and those relationships I valued so much. Death to two other relatives, one whom I watched die.
• 2010: Year Of Loss. Lost my best friends, realized that I was not as valuable to them as they were to me.
• 2011: Year Of Numb. For the first time in my life I incrementally became numb, developed the ability to not care. Made the decision to be an emotional hermit to all around me, save for my two sons.
• 2012: No fire. Heart of stone. Indifferent about everything except my sons.

What sparked this realization was seeing myself in photos.

We bought an Apple TV for our family for Christmas, and since ours is an all-Apple home, the new device is connected to iCloud, which in turn sees my Photo Stream. For our screen saver on the big TV I have it set up to show Photo Stream pics. After a few weeks of walking through the room while the TV is one, and seeing these pics pop up, seeing pics of me with my boys, with the occasional friend, etc. I noticed that I always look sad. Even in pics where I’m smiling, I have “sad eyes.” I recently met two pals for lunch that I had only previously known from social media, we snapped a quick pic at the end, and when I got to my car and looked at it I was truly shocked to see that I did not look happy, even though in my mind I was smiling.

The truth I know about myself is that, with the exception of my sons, I could walk away from any relationship in my life right now, and not think twice about it. My heart is rock solid. I am loveless. The only water to come out of this rock heart of mine is for my two boys. The other truth I know about myself is that I do not like the person I am; I have much self-hatred.

How does one remedy this?

I tried counseling. In January 2011 I started seeing a therapist for suicidal thoughts I couldn’t seem to shake. I saw that therapist until November, then left when I realized my conversations with my 12 Step sponsor were more engaging – and free.

I tried the Church, but I don’t trust Christians anymore. Every wound I’ve worked to heal over the last several years has been from a relationship with a Christian. I don’t trust confiding in a Christian at this point in my life with the real meat of what’s going on. The few – and I mean few – Christians I know that I still respect I’d like to keep that way: Respect as per the surfacey relationship we share. Today’s church is built on “call me if you need anything,” which is what a doctor says to his patients. “Call me if you need anything” is a phrase I hate. It means to say, “I’ll be living live over here, oblivious to what’s going on with you, and I couldn’t really care anyway, so call me if you need anything.” That this is how Christians view Biblical fellowship is something I hope God judges them harshly for. But that’s an entirely different blog post.

But on that last point, I fear I threw away God with those who claim to follow him. I stopped praying, stopped worshipping, and that’s when things got real dark – or so I’m thinking. So I’ve started praying again as of a few days ago.

I prayed again today. I have hope to connect with God again, and my hope is that somehow the internal flame can eventually be ignited. I want to be alive again.

Reset

A year ago right now I had overwhelming dread, due to my grandma’s coming death, and overwhelming hope, due to a few broken relationships that looked like they could be on track for reconciliation. In the twelve months between then and now, I’ve lost the dread, lost my grandma, and lost all hope that reconciliation is possible in this day and age.

I think the concept of reconciliation in my culture is 100% abstract – there be no need for action, words, or people working together toward understanding of differences so as to be reconnected. Instead, what I’ve discerned through experience, is reconciliation is a state of mind – at least to the people I had hope of reconciling with.

To them life goes on because they’ve settled the matter in their mind. Their thought life is their reality. They therefore have no exposure to consequences of what others feel or think. They are immune; happily so.

And I think the thing that stings the most is that I’m talking here about christians. I’m talking about people I once worshiped God with. People I stood with during a baby dedication and swore to help them raise their children, and they mine. People I could drop in on at any time, and share a meal with. People I wouldn’t blink to call at 2am with a prayer request. People I loved.

The rifts varied. I have owned up to my side of the street – it’s the only side I can take care of and account for. I’ve accepted blame where I can take it. I have invited former friends to lunch, to coffee, to a park so we can talk. But no takers. No willingness to do the actual work of reconciliation, of forgiveness.

For the last several months I’ve found myself in a crisis of faith. I no longer believe that the idea of a Church that Jesus established exists as it is supposed to here and now.

The deepest wounds, the least forgiveness, the coldest shoulders I have experienced in my life to-date have been from fellow christians. It hit me recently that I’ve never actually seen or heard of reconciliation outside of the Bible. I don’t know of two people in my lifetime so far who had differences, worked on forgiveness, and experienced reconciliation. I’m at a point in my life where I just don’t believe it’s possible, or that modern day christianity believes it either.

When christians call each other “brother” and “sister” they do so because it feels good, not because they are willing to enter into a bond with someone else  that has the implications of an actual family member. That’s been my experience, at least, over the last 8-10 years.

So, for me, it’s time to reset. I am in the process of figuring out a way to put my boys in the context of the world view I believe is The Way, but I want to do so without engaging in it too much. I’m scouting three churches in the little town I live in for the one I can most tolerate, and there I will take my family on Sundays so my boys can be exposed to what I believe is Truth. And one day they can decide for themselves what they want to do with Church – take it or leave it. I also still have a very small group of people whom I meet with now and then for prayer, study, and a meal. It’s my “mana” of sorts.

To wrap this up, what I’m getting at is that I believed in people when they told me they wanted and practice forgiveness, but I’ve yet to see it practiced in the rifts of broken relationships. Instead what I have received is very cheap, plastic “grace” where the other person says, “Oh, we’re cool…” and goes on with life. That robs the other person of real grace, and mocks God – or tries to. Hey, Christian: Imagine if Jesus had just stood up at the Last Supper, and told his disciples, “Hey, we’re cool. You, your kids, all of humanity. It’s done. We’re all cool with me and with my Father.” I’m not suggesting that someone sacrifice their life for every broken relationship, but I am suggesting that simply thinking it over in solitude is not nearly enough.

This past weekend Don Henley’s “The Hear of the Matter” came on, and for the first time I listened to the words of the chorus. It struck me because this is precisely where I am:

I’ve been tryin’ to get down to the heart of the matter.

But my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter.

But I think it’s about forgiveness, forgiveness.

Even if, even if you don’t love me anymore.

Shalom.