A Perspective on The Same Sex Marriage Ruling

When I heard the supreme court was set to rule on same-sex marriage, my stomach flipped.  It's not because I was in suspense--I already had a feeling it would pass successfully, even if by a margin.  It's not because the idea appalls me; afterall, I have several gay friends who have expressed their frustration over not being able to receive certain tangible or intangible benefits--ones I take for granted.  The reason my stomach weirded out was because I knew that regardless of the outcome, some of the least Christlike Christians I know were going to come out full force and try to inflict damage.  Even worse, I knew many of them would be successful in their attempts.

Let's get something out of the way right now... I'm a Christian, but I'm also human.  That gives me this amazing potential to be a judgemental hypocrite.  I excel at it sometimes, actually--to the point that a few hours later I have one of those dread "What was I THINKING?!" convos with myself.  My view of myself as well as of other people is skewed at best, and changes with mood, hormones, stress level, and circumstance.  So in addressing what I'm about to address, please know that this by no means makes me better than the Christians I'm criticising, because at points in my history (and most assuredly my future), I've been one of them without knowing it.

Scripture clearly expresses God's intentions for sexuality.  There's no need to rehash that.  But it also expresses His intentions for many other areas of life.  So why do we tend to focus on one particular area and the let the rest go?  Why is is that prohibition was such a big issue in the past but is hardly an issue any longer?  If Christians are truly protesting gay rights because of scripture, why are they not also protesting outside of bars?  Package stores?  Tattoo parlours?  Divorce courts?  Strip joints? All of them propagate something which goes against some basic aspect of scripture. 

Some of you may not know it, but I'm remarried.  I've forgiven my ex, so I won't go into any of the horrid details of what lead to our divorce.  Suffice it to say that when I went to a local therapist, a Christian woman who is renowned in the community for putting even the most hopeless of marriages back together, I was floored to hear her response to my telling her why I'd left him: "Amanda, I understand why. I just can't for the life of me figure out why it took you almost 3 years to do so."  The prime reason was because I didn't believe in divorce.  She was right--I'd waited longer than most mentally healthy people would have waited to end it given the things I'd learned were taking place.

A few months went by before I realized there was truly no hope, so I filed for divorce.  Despite knowing I'd done the right thing, I found myself walking around with what felt like an invisible "D" on my chest.  Many people who knew us as a couple treated me harshly, and it hurt like hell.  Over the next year or two, though, I was surprised by how many of them contacted me, ran into me, or in some meaningful way reached out to say that they'd judged the situation wrong.  They'd assumed we were just a young dumb couple who didn't realize how much work marriage really was.  Once the problems came to light, they felt the need to apologize, some even going so far as to tell me I was welcome in their home anytime and that they hoped after everything that had happened to me that I would open my heart to love again one day.  I can't adequately express how much those encounters meant to my healing.  Hurting is one thing; feeling unfairly judged in the midst of that hurt is excruciating.  Sadly, as I sought out a new church home, I deliberately avoided some congregations--having heard how they viewed divorcees in light of scripture's reference to it.  The church family I found was lead by a divorced pastor, had gay couples, drug addicts, alcoholics, adulterers, unwed mothers, psychiatric patients, and every other manner of potential outcasts within its walls.  They weren't perfect people, but I never witnessed self-righteous judgement, and never feared that they would reject Edwin as my new husband, he also being a divorcee.

It hit me about 6 months ago the cultural shift that has taken place around divorce.  In our case, it's positive--it's why that acceptance took place.  But what if the world around us had rejected the idea of our marriage based on scripture about divorce?  How would we have felt?  What benefits might we have been deprived of?  What battles might we have had to fight socially?  It humbled me to realize how easily the battle our gay friends fight could well have been our fight.  That's what first made me start thinking about all of this.

There's something inherently different about this area--something Christians don't know how to pinpoint.  Some have referenced Sodom & Gomorrah, but that's just one piece of scripture--and certainly not in the top 10 which come to mind when discussing the Bible.  Some have referenced the uncomfortable recognition of same-sex attraction, which is also an instinctive, human reaction that scientists say all of us experience at some point--whether we realize it or not.  Honestly, I'm not sure what it is that makes this area so unique and "worthy" of hatred.  It leads us to question the condition of our hearts--that's for sure.

So where do I propose that we stand as believers?  Firm on 1 Cor 13: 1-3 (If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.). And firm on Matt 22: 37-39 (Jesus replied: “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’).  There's no reason for us to be angry or judgemental; but there's plenty of reason to love.  Let me further illustrate with this:

Years ago, I interrupted a coworker in the middle of lunch regarding something he and I had worked on together.  He got a strange look on his face and said "Don't judge!" defensively.  I'm taken aback by this and can't logically connect it with the questions I'd just asked him.  He then looks down at his lunch pointedly, so I do too.  He was drinking a soft drink and eating a honeybun.  This was a pretty typical lunch for him, so I didn't see the significance. He then feels the need to clarify: "You always seem to eat healthy, so I know how this must look.  That's what I was referring to."  At this point I share my heart: "I have areas of my life where I'm lacking--quite a few, actually.  And all I know when it comes to criticising others is that scripture which talks about removing one's own plank before helping someone else with a speck.  I believe that God rarely asks us to confront others when their lives/actions go against scripture. And until He tells me to--in a specific way, at a specific time, I leave that aspect of your life between you and Him.  Afterall, He knows your heart, your struggles, and your motivations far better than I ever will.  I've never said or even non-verbally implied that I judge you for what you eat.  And unless He directs me to do otherwise, I never will."  He smiled at that point and got tears in his eyes.  Our working relationship improved a bit that day--knowing we'd give each other the freedom to be who we were and let God speak to us in His time, rather than judging each other.

Another eye-opening experience I had was through a friend's husband.  She is one of the most beautiful spirits on this earth, and we developed our friendship over the course of time spent together in some remarkably open conversation.  One day she admitted that her marriage was on the verge of ending.  He was an alcoholic, and his problem was permeating every aspect of their lives--their relationships with other family members, their finances, his health, etc.  A couple weeks later I meet him and am incredibly disturbed by the experience--not because he was anything less than good to meet, but because I'd formed a stereotype image in my mind of how he must be--the alcoholic that was hurting my friend so much emotionally.  And that image was nothing like the man standing in front of me.  I looked into his eyes and saw a spirit which mirrored my friend's--pure, loving, caring, compassionate, and good.  In that instant, I realized how screwy my mental paradigm was of someone who struggled with alcohol or any other substance.  I disagreed with what he was doing and prayed for him, but realized I had no reason to show him anything less than love and care in the midst of it.  How he handled his problem and their marriage was ultimately between him, her, and God. 

That's what I propose.  Not that we love them at a distance, because I don't believe that's what Christ would have done.  Not that we lie to them and say we don't believe the scriptures related to sexuality--particularly if we really do.  Most importantly, not that we love them with condition--as in the little underlying hint of "I'll act loving toward you, but I know you're wrong."  Rather, simply love them.  That's all He's asked us to do.  Even the prophets which declared pending doom back in the Old Testament all did so at God's prompting--not because they decided to key in on particular town and jump on their pedestal of judgement.  But because He directly ASKED them--at a specific point in time and in a specific way.  God hasn't asked me to do anything specific with regard to same-sex marriage or GLBT issues--except love.  Ultimately, their choices are between them, the people they love, and God.  Let's leave it at that and love unconditionally in the meantime.  Let's picture what Christ would do if a gay couple walk into a church He was attending.  Would he demand them to leave?  Embarrass them?  Engage them in debate? Glare or stare awkwardly at a distance?  Would He even act loving with an undertone of judgement?  I don't think so.  I think He'd walk right up to them, embrace them, and worship next to them before inviting them to lunch.  Until God asks us--directly asks us--to do different, why can't we as Christians do the same?

I know way too many who have been pushed away from Christ because of judgemental, hurtful attitudes.  That's what's heavy on my heart.  I pray I'm never the source of such pain for someone else, because at that point I'm much worse than anything I could criticise them for.  When it comes to controversial issues such as this, I try hard to examine my heart--asking God to reveal the parts I might have trouble seeing.  I encourage all Christians to do the same.  You don't have to agree with the ruling, but you can show unconditional love--the same love we should all be showing other people whose lives depart from scripture in any number of ways--including our own.  We don't have to agree with their choices.  We don't have to protest the change in laws.  We don't have to sort it all out mentally.  All we need to do is love and do so unconditionally--His ultimate commandment.

Is The Resolution Sticking?

So I thought I'd give an update on my last blog post.  I'd pledged to be less sensitive, and more empathetic in response to the actions of those around me.  Honestly, I'd been the opposite for so long that I was afraid I'd fall completely back into my old thought patterns.  But I haven't.  Granted, I've not yet "won the war" on this...but I've won a couple battles, so progress is on the horizon.

What have I learned?

First, that it's about stepping back from the emotions--my own as well as those of other people.  I got into an argument recently with someone I care for deeply, and felt very hurt by their words.  Fortunately, we were finally able to talk through the issue in a healthy way and I was floored to hear them explain that they'd gotten angry at themself, but taken it out on me.  As I replayed the argument in my mind, suddenly their actions, their non-verbals, their words, even their focus, made perfect sense: it wasn't about me.  Of course, I spent a few minutes questioning why in the world that hadn't occurred to me at the time.  (I never miss a good opportunity to beat myself up...do you? LOL)  But here's what's interesting...  The next day I felt like my head was getting bitten off by someone else.  And right about the time I normally would have started feeling extreme frustration and pain, it hit me between the eyes--this wasn't about me!  In fact, I knew the person well enough to know exactly what they were thinking about that subject and why they were, themselves, frustrated.  I can't adequately express how liberating that felt!  The old me would have ended the conversation as quickly as possible, fumed and/or vented about the experience, and let it affect my relationship with them for days!  What a waste--of time, energy, and opportunity for good relationships.  Instead, I let them change the subject and went on to have a great rest of the day.

Second, I lowered my standards.  I don't mean to sound like a pessimist by putting it that way, but those four little words really do sum it up best.  Instead of assuming I was going to be treated politely by that person who only seems to conjure politeness 50% of the time, I assumed it wasn't going to happen.  So when it didn't, no shock.  The next day, when they were downright cordial, I was pleasantly surprised.  I started applying it while shopping, driving, spending time with people, etc, and was amazed at how much more peaceful I felt.  We should have high expectations of God--that's the stuff faith is made of. ;) And we should have high expectations of ourselves to a healthy extent.  But the rest of the world really should be given their own individual room--to grow, to make mistakes, to teach me something they may have already conquered that I have yet to realize I need to work on, myself.  Anything more than that and we're trying to live unrealistically.

Still got more to learn--I'm sure of that.  Afterall, sometimes the offenders still manage to knock me down for a bit.  But I've got hope now that I don't have to be upset about those times.  Here's to life's lessons--which God lets us learn the hard way if you're as stubborn as I am! :)

New Years Resolution

So the world hasn't ended (LOL) and 2013 is upon us. Time to break out the resolutions!  Honestly, I've never been much of a resolution-maker.  Guess I witnessed enough folks make and break the same ones by Feb 1st that I didn't see a lot of merit in it.  (Not to mention how crowded the gym gets for about 6 weeks--but then most seem to go back to their old ways.)  Don't see a lot of point in that, personally.  So I tend to just pick a day and make a plan when I'm wanting to change something about my life.  I don't always succeed, but it rarely correlates to the start of a year.  Well, this year is different.  God has laid something so significant on my heart--with such power to improve my life and the lives of those around me, that I want to full fledge make a declaration. I need the accountability.

So here it is:  I resolve to be less offended...less sensitive...less apt to take the actions (or lack of actions) on the part of others as a personal attack. 

I resolve instead to try to figure out what might be going on that's causing them to do what they do.  Maybe that guy that cut me off in traffic is going thru a painful divorce--meaning he's either lost in thought and didn't notice me or is so angry at his circumstances that his ego needed the boost of getting ahead of a mini-van before the lanes merged. Maybe that family member who seems to want nothing to do with me or my loved ones is hurting financially, worried about their job, and living such a complex reality that I don't even hit their radar right now.  Maybe that co-worker that just bit my head off is in an abusive relationship, is wondering if she may have just crossed the line to being an alcoholic, and feels like she has nowhere to turn.  The point isn't that I know the story behind their actions--the point is that I acknowledge something beyond myself is fueling their behavior.  Recently I've found myself doing it more--but need to work on doing it immediately rather than days later after having fumed over it.

There are two men in my life who have been amazing examples of how to do this.  The first was my Dad.  It used to annoy me to see how readily he offered people the benefit of the doubt.  But as I've gotten older, I've come to find his perspective endearing and wise.  The second was my Husband.  I watched as he endured some of the harshest persecution I've ever witnessed.  It angered him, but he practiced restraint and never seemed to bite back.  Within a surprisingly short period of time, his heart would soften toward the offenders.  Then he prayed for them, forgave them, and asked nothing in return.  He spoke often of how he wished for their happiness and well-being, even going as far as to find any merit which might have been behind their motives.  He seemed to feel his feelings, but I can't ever say I witnessed him fume.  He just did the right thing and put his trust in God to work things out in His timing--exhibiting amazing patience and humility.

There are also some people in my life who have, unwittingly, acted as the catalyst for testing how easily I would get offended.  The type of people who can't be pleased, who cross boundaries every few minutes without regard for anyone but themselves--and while you're reeling from shock at what they've just done, they find multiple reasons to be offended, themselves. NOT fun times. And yet, their attitudes were the absolute best wake-up call for what I could become if I didn't curb my own ability to be offended. So strangely, I've found myself thankful for them.

But the straw that broke the camel's back came just a few days ago. I can't share the details, but I can paint an emotional picture of sorts. Who is that one person you'd just rather not be around? Maybe someone betrayed you years ago. Maybe they hurt you--physically or emotionally or in any number of significant ways. Sadly, we can all think of someone who meets that discription. Now picture walking out your front door to check the mail one day, noticing a moving truck next door, and seeing that person's face emerge from the driver's seat. The person you least want close to you has just moved in next door. You can't afford to move right now, even if you could, the housing market is horrible, and besides--you LOVE your house, your yard, your other neighbors, the location, etc. In short, you feel like you've been invaded. That about sums up where I was. But over the course of a couple days, God pointed out to me that I had no reason to feel that way. I'd supposedly forgiven the person and, uncomfortable as it may be, I could bear "living next door" to them. This was just my opportunity to affirm--to myself and others--that I had, in fact, forgiven.

This opened a door somewhere in my heart. As a fuming thought came thru my mind about them, I realized I had a choice as to whether I entertained it. Then, when a family member slighted me, I realized I had a choice as to whether I felt offended. It's having this amazing potential for a domino effect. I don't have to hope I won't interact with such people. I don't have to wait in vain for the day they realize what they've done. I don't have to fume. I can forgive. I can move on. I can have peace. If I've done something to cause the situation, I can ask for their forgiveness as well; but if I haven't, there's nothing for me to do but trust God with it. The freedom this offers overwhelms and convicts my bitter spirit.

Are you fuming over something that's happened to you? Over someone who's hurt you? Is it robbing you of the ability to find peace? If so, I'd encourage you to join me in my first real New Years Resolution. Share what God teaches you in the midst of it. We can be each others' encouragement. Because the world will never stop offending us, but I'm now convinced there's a way to live peacefully in the midst of it. That's what I resolve to do.

What He Isn't

I'm amazed at the world we live in.  In light of recent events, I don't even have to name the tragedies and complexities off--you already know.  And your heart is probably heavy with it at times, just as mine is.  But what amazes me most is how God is portrayed in the midst of it.  Do I have an accurate picture of Him?  Hardly.  I grasp for what pixels I can just as much as the next person.  But I'm continually heart-sick to hear some of the ways He's portrayed.  That's just not the God I know--far from it.  So much as I'd struggle to provide anything close to an accurate picture of who He is, I'd at least like to take a stab at a list of things I know in my heart He ISN'T.  Feel free to add to it:

1)  He's not distant.  He doesn't prioritize our individual problems in light of the massive ones.  He doesn't say "Geez, would you quit worrying about trying to fit into that dress before your friend's wedding?  I'm dealing with a zealous crowd of protestors that are about to get violent!" He cares about what we care about--even if we care about it for silly, human reasons.  If it's on our hearts, He cares--because our hearts are what He cares for most.

2)  He's not a harsh, perfectionist judge.  He's not sitting behind some heavenly pulpit, waiting for us to mess up again so He can smash down His gavel on the 3rd strike.  He's patient.  He's there to comfort us when we fall.  He knows that our acknowleding our downfall can hurt as much as the natural consequences that follow.  He never expects perfection--He only expects us to lean on Him.

3)  He doesn't operate off of a checklist.  I feel like Jesus made this clear in scripture when He spoke to or about the pharisees.  Dressing a certain way, being involved (or not involved) in certain activities, and making sure you showed up at church "every time the doors opened" didn't seem to be very high on His priority list. When asked for His list, LOVE is what ranked at the top--not a plethora of do's and don'ts.

If a person (or group of people) have managed to portray God as something less than love--someone whose standards you could never live up to, whose rules you couldn't possibly follow, whose character you could never relate to, my friend, that's just not the God I know.  And if someone has hurt you in the name of Christ, please accept my apology on their behalf.  We imperfect human beings can do one heck of a bad job of portraying a loving, perfect Father.  Much as I pray my actions would help show who He truly is, I'd be scared stiff to think my actions could have the power to represent whether He is who He says He is--because I'm GOING to mess up, I guarantee it.

Maybe a church hurt you.  Maybe a group of not-so-Christlike Christians made you feel like you ranked low because you didn't succumb to their rules and standards for righteousness.  If that describes you, try bypassing the whole lot of us for a while. Go straight to Him. Ask HIM to show you who He is.  And take the rest of us--your fellow human beings--with a grain of salt.  He truly is LOVE--not in a way we'll ever fully understand, not in a cliche "the world will be roses" way, but in a way that gives peace to those who truly seek it.  Have I found that peace?  I'm afraid not...but I feel sprinkles of it here and there.  Enough to keep me looking for it again the next day.  I've seen it bigger in the eyes of those I look up to the most, so I know He can make it grow.  He's patient enough to show us.  And that's the God I know.