jesus

Where did we all go wrong?

| ThoughtFossils

The language of expectations within Evangelicalism inspired me to think through these things, though I’m no longer sure how this all ties in to the language of expectations, bear with me.

Also, these are raw thoughts meeting the keyboard for the first time. I might rethink all this one day, I might even disagree, but I want this to be out there as a monument of sorts to where I am in my journey.

I’ve been thinking about unconditional love lately. That god is love. That we’re loved unconditionally. Loved. That’s it. 

FULL STOP.

No expectations, no exceptions, no prerequisites…except then we sit under toxic preaching and hear “God loves you so much, he HAD to kill his son.” I’m sorry, WHAT?? I can’t imagine harming someone to prove my love to my husband. What kind of maniac would require such a thing? 

And that got me thinking that the maniac is the one who painted god in that light- who created god in their own hateful, murderous image, and then wrote it down in a holy book.

Jesus reserved harsh words of judgement for the religious who placed impossible burdens on others, who presented god as a hateful, wrathful, and as an abusive god when something doesn’t go his way (Of course god is male). Jesus said that if anyone causes a believer in the way and teaching of Jesus to stumble-if anyone poisons the image of god that is revealed through the self-sacrificial, all encompassing acceptance and love of Jesus, “it would be better for them if a large millstone were hung around their neck and they were thrown into the sea.” (Mark 9)

Full stop. Literally.

And then I think about the sacrifice part.. Jesus willingly turning himself in to be killed by a mob could be showing us a peaceful resistance to violence instead of a pagan-esque blood sacrifice. At that time, humanity believed that the Supernatural wants blood and death, humanity understood their image of god to be as barbaric as them, thus justifying their violence and thirst for blood as something holy or divinely inspired.

We see it in Abram, willing to kill his only, long-awaited son to start a new religion, because that’s what ya did back then. We go to the notary to sign our life savings away, they went to the altar to give up their most valuable(often times children) in hopes of a heard prayer and blessed outcome. Abram and his audience weren’t yet ready to understand that blood does not need to be shed, they could not grasp the concept of a non-retributive justice to being wrong or being wronged, so they settled on an animal in lieu of a human. “God” provided the lamb.

I find it odd that we’re told that god loves us and forgives us…but he has to kill his son to do that. Manipulative, no? In a court of law, if you’re acquitted, does anyone have to serve time? No. Acquitted. Done. No goats, no blood, no sons. Go in peace and crime no more.

Divinity aside, when Jesus willingly goes to the mob, and calmly takes the taunts and abuse, I imagine the people watching were quite stumped- why isn’t he fighting back?! Why isn’t he pleading innocence?! Even Pilate throws him a lifeline, but Jesus’ silent resistance says: enough is enough. I will conquer your violent desire for death by dying at your hands. You wanted me to be king, to usurp power and control, I’ll instead die in shame to put you to shame for how much you love violence. Jesus is teaching us that god didn’t give his son to be slaughtered because there’s some transaction going on in heaven and it just needs a few drops of blood and a death, like the good old days. Jesus is teaching us that god doesn’t want death and violence as a sign of faith and loyalty because god him/herself doesn’t work that way, never did. In the most dramatic display of what love does, Jesus lays his life down willingly-not to appease a tyrant, but to forever change humanity’s ideas about the divine: god is love.

In the book of Isaiah, Isaiah(the OG “progressive snowflake”) tells the people that god does not want their useless sacrifices, he can’t stand their religious assemblies. He tells them: “Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.” (Isa 1:17) is that not a direct command to take god to task on matters of social justice? Read the first chapter of Isaiah post-deconstruction. I dare you. 

Isaiah opens up by saying that the people had left god, yet we see that they continued with worship assemblies, prayer meetings, and bringing their sacrifices. God makes his/her feelings about sacrifices very clear: ““The multitude of your sacrifices— what are they to me?…I have no pleasure in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats.  When you come to appear before me, who has asked this of you, this trampling of my courts?”…”Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool. If you are willing and obedient, you will eat the good things of the land..”” (Isa 1:18) God condemns their sacrifices that they brought for forgiveness of sins, and then offers forgiveness if they change their behavior. No lambs. No sons. Just take up the case of the fatherless and the widow.

I’m no theologian, obviously, but something tells me that god doesn’t operate in a manipulative and abusive “I killed my son for you” kind of way. And if he does- woe. It’s kind of like giving a gift. If you give a gift and then receive a gift for giving a gift, is it really a gift or a mere transaction? When my son asks for forgiveness, I readily forgive and only ask for changed behaviour, knowing full-well that the scenario will happen a dozen times everyday. Heck, I even forgive when he doesn’t ask, because I LOVE HIM. If a mere human is capable of such love, how much more is the divine?

Remember Judas? Jesus knew that Judas would betray him, yet, Jesus did something so beneath a rabbi, what only slaves were allowed to do- on the night of the betrayal, Jesus washed Judas’s feet. Love. Unconditional love.

My fundamentalist faith preached the love and acceptance of Jesus, but there were always expectations to meet, there were conditions which needed unanimous agreement. Now, talking to friends and family, I can sense their disappointment that I no longer live up to the expectations they had for me. This box they created, which I was supposed to fill, was just too small to encompass what I had become to know as reality. Considering that I’ve always done my best to adhere to group think and uphold the status quo, I now realize that I never truly got to be myself around the people I loved and valued most. They never got to know the real me, and the old me whom they loved had never existed.

“These aren’t your thoughts,” “your account got hacked,” “It’s disappointing to see this from you,” “You were so fervent and passionate in your faith.” While I understand the fear and pain behind such statements, they still hurt because in the evangelical world, they usually mean that now you’re a project to be prayed for and won back. “And of course we love you, that’s why we’re being abusive, manipulative and condescending to save your soul. Hell’s worse, buttercup.”

On the other hand, loving these people for who I perceive them to be is also proving very difficult, especially loving them like Jesus. And then I remember that Jesus wasn’t buddy-buddy with the religious, he didn’t hang out at the temple 5 days a week, with a select group of supremacists. His people-his church- were all outside of the temple courts, far away from the holy of holies, and that is where I hope you’ll find me.

Tourists. Damn Tourists.

| ThoughtFossils

9/11 hit a little differently this year. I thought about it all day yesterday and when today came, my mind was a complete mess, which got even hazier as the day wore on.

I’m not entirely sure what made it so different. It could be the already horrible weight of the global pandemic.
It could be the reminder that 9/11 is a childhood friend’s birthday with whom I cut ties recently because of my support for BLM.
It could be because deconstructing religion has made me more aware that most of the awful evils ever done were done in the name of a god by indoctrinated people across all beliefs.
It could be because I never fully grasped thus never fully grieved the loss and terror of that day, as I was a child when it happened.

Sad to admit, but I too, believed in part some of the conspiracies going around about 9/11. My embarrassment at this fact, coupled with disgust and horror that those theories are still alive and well, could also be a reason for why this year it all hits a little harder.

My 10 year old self was in school that day, and we were excitedly preparing for the annual open house when our parents would meet our teachers and mingle. I vividly remember catching a glimpse of another teacher’s TV as my class walked past his classroom. That’s when I saw that surreal image of the towers up in smoke. Settled in at my desk, much to my dismay, we were informed that the open house is cancelled. The rest of the day was chaos and confusion. We mainly sat around until dismissal while the teachers whispered in the hallways. I don’t remember if my teacher had said anything as to what is actually going on, but it was clear that something very serious has happened.

When I got home, my mom ran out of our apartment to collect me from the bus stop which was maybe 30 meters from our front door. She ran towards me and with fear and trembling in her voice said: “Terrorists! Get inside! Terrorists!” I did not know what terrorists were. I actually thought that she said “tourists,” so I imagined a throng of overweight white people, in wide brimmed hats and Hawaiian shirts, getting off of a tour bus and walking like zombies. Oh to be 10 again—reality was not so kind and well-humored.

As someone who is just now coming to grips with the reality of that fateful September day, I’ve not much useful insight to add, but through all of this, I’ve again learned that life can be unrelentingly cruel sometimes. Most of the time as of late, thanks  2020. Today I am also reminded of just how short and volatile life is. How precious and rare are moments of comfort and calm. How important it is to love people, to be kind, and to consistently check our beliefs to make sure that they are not hindering our ability to show love and compassion towards others.

In Christianity specifically, the second most important commandment uttered by Jesus is: “love your neighbor as yourself”. Who is my neighbor? Using a parable, Jesus beautifully illustrates that one’s neighbor is the one others would consider an outsider. It is the one who is hurting, the one who is in need, the one who may cost you some of your own resources. Our neighbors are those who the church has cast out and distanced themselves from, deeming them “unclean”. Loving our neighbor can look like inter-faith friendships, diverse community, social programs/assistance, giving a voice to the voiceless, making room at the table for the marginalized, using our privilege and platform to benefit those who could be drowned out by us instead.

As I write this, it’s all coming together.

THIS is the true gospel that I’ve been deconstructing towards. It’s not interpretations and hermeneutics, not even the trinity or atonement, *gasp*.

It is loving our neighbor enough to give them a chance at enjoying and living a full and beautiful life, because life is precious, but damn, it. Is. Fleeting.