10 Things You (maybe) Hate about Me
Why you might not want to be my friend if you’re not a Christian, and what I should do about that.
By Anni Ponder
“Sometimes, Christians are actually the worst.”
Remember our coffee shop conversation a few blogs back? I have another topic I’d like to cover, but for this one, let’s assume you don’t come from a Christian worldview. Maybe you were brought up in that context and have since taken different paths, or perhaps you never experienced it and can’t understand why Christianity can be so, well, downright horrid sometimes.
If this is the case and we gathered for another round of hot drinks, I’m fairly certain you might have a few misgivings about my philosophy, or rather, my theology. In fact, I can think of at least 10 things you might wonder and maybe even want to challenge me on.
I love a good (gentle) confrontation, so I’ll take a deep breath, invite my heart to stop fluttering, and ask you for the first item on your list. (By the way, I can’t take credit for this list. A dear friend shared this with me and I can’t get it out of my head, so I’m using it here with her permission.)
You: Alrighty then. So you want to know what I don’t like about Christians?
Me: Yep. Fire away. But not literally. I’m not into violence.
You: OK, but just beware, this might get uncomfortable.
Me: I live for the awkward.
You: (taking a deep breath) Well, my first thing is that, er, why are so many Christians Republicans? That party can be so divisive and tends to overlook the very people your Christ told you to look out for. Why the affiliation?
Me: Well, so I don’t know how many Christians you talk to on the regular, but for sure not all of us identify as Republican. I certainly do not. I actually don’t like the two-party system and don’t vote along partisan lines. And I’m far from alone here. The trouble is that in our country right now, the loudest voice coming from Christianity is the far right. They’ve grabbed a megaphone and shout so loudly that the millions of us who hold more centrist or leftist views get completely drowned out. But we’re here, advocating for all kinds of moderate ideology and practice.
You: OK I had hoped that was the case. But let’s talk about ye-olde-number-one-issue the Christian right is on about right now: abortion. How can you be pro-life when you see all the complexity around unwanted pregnancy, poverty, and lack of support for mothers and babies?
Me: Yeah, that’s a really sad one for me. I honestly don’t know what the solution is. I don’t identify as pro-life, but neither do I feel free to support abortion. I know some say there is no middle ground and I have to pick one side or the other, but honestly I think both sides have really valid points and we all need to listen to each other more. As one priest recently told me, we can’t just continue to advocate for no abortions. We have to go way upstream to the source of the problem and address the myriad and complex issues that lead to unwanted pregnancies in the first place. Just picketing abortion clinics and showing graphic images of horribly sad things does nothing to actually affect any lasting change—and in fact that is often much more harmful than helpful. I still wave at the folks holding signs in front of Planned Parenthood, because I acknowledge they really are trying to help, but I also pray blessings on the folks inside the building because I believe they are also trying to solve problems the best they know how.
You: Hmm. OK I think you might need to stop waving at the protesters, but that’s up to you.
Me: Yeah, I know. I don’t want to perpetuate the problem, but I can’t help but believe they’re out there trying to make the world a better place, albeit misguidedly. It’s the same reason I invite religious door-knockers in for a drink of water when they come by with their shiny pamphlets. I don’t usually agree with their premise, but hey, they’re out there trying to spread the love of Jesus. The least I can do is offer them a friendly conversation and a little refreshment.
You: Funny, I do the same thing, although I always tell them I don’t want anything to do with their ideology.
Me: Yes! We can see the humanity without having to agree. (sipping coffee) OK, what’s next on your list? That was only two out of ten, no?
You: Yep. We have a ways to go. OK. How about the 2nd Amendment folks? Are you pro-gun?
Me: I used to be. Felt much safer with my conceal and carry and my revolver in my purse. Once I had a stalker so I felt like I needed to do that to protect myself. But these days I find myself believing that Jesus doesn’t actually want me to “live by the sword” and doesn’t ever ask me to use violence. I don’t have this all sorted out by any means—if someone came after one of my daughters, I’m not sure I wouldn’t resort to violence in order to protect her. This is a work in progress for me. But the longer I study the Sermon on the Mount, the more I’m convinced I’m not meant to own or carry a gun. This is a personal conviction, mind you, and I don’t go around telling other folks what they should or shouldn’t do here, but I find the longer I walk with Jesus, the more I am willing to trust Him about non-violence.
You: That’s interesting. So no “God, Guns, and Trump” flags flying at your place?
Me: (glaring sideways)
You: Fair enough. Alrighty then, how do you feel about the death penalty?
Me: Wow, glad we aren’t throwing any softballs today. OK, but I did invite this.
You: You literally did.
Me: Fair. OK so from where I sit, one cannot be both pro-life and pro-death at the same time. If all life is sacred, then it doesn’t make sense to me how many Christians on the far right are at once screaming for abortions to cease and also advocating for the death penalty. To be totally honest, I haven’t thought through this issue enough to say I have formed a sincere conclusion, but nothing in me wants to see “an eye for an eye” be the way we dole out justice. I know that’s a quote from the Bible, and a lot of folks use it as justification for the death penalty, but honestly I think Jesus’ philosophy of loving our enemies trumps that (sorry for the term—we need a better one).
You: Mmmkay, so let’s go deeper and darker.
Me: . . .than the death penalty? Wow. OK, what’s next?
You: Hell. Lots of your cronies threaten that those of us who haven’t “accepted Jesus Christ as our personal Lord and Savior” are going to roast alive eternally. I mean, can we just take a moment to consider the unspeakable cruelty in that?
Me: Totally. This is, to me, one of the most destructive things a Christian can say: it’s my way or you will live eternally in utter torment because God loves you but hates your sin. Eew. I think I just threw up a little bit in my throat.
You: Gross. Why don’t you take a minute?
Me: Thank you. (sipping more coffee) Here’s the way I see this. Let’s say there’s a beloved leader. Someone everyone likes and looks up to as good and right and fair. She governs with compassion and grace, and nobody can seem to find any dirt on her. OK, one day, we find out she has a torture chamber in her basement where she keeps the criminals her justice system has proven guilty. There, every minute around the clock, her employees perform all manner of unthinkable atrocities to the guilty prisoners. Sometimes, she goes down to watch. She seems to get great pleasure out of knowing this “justice” is being served, and she often oversees the torture while enjoying a bowl of popcorn, chanting, “Serves you right!”
Now, thanks to this politician’s global connections, she has found a doctor who has devised a way to extend life indefinitely. And so this leader, this “good and gracious” woman, forces her prisoners to live forever while being endlessly tortured. So there’s not even the hope of escaping their anguish by dying. Just eternal, conscious torment (see what I did there?).
What would we say about her? Would we still call her good and gracious and wise? Would we laud her for her holy and righteous judgment?
No! We would absolutely condemn her as maniacal, delusional, and depraved. We would remove her from the seat of power. That sort of justice is no justice at all.
You: Wow, that got pretty dark. I don’t like the popcorn part of that story even a little bit.
Me: Nor do I. But sadly, this is exactly the picture some Christians offer of our “loving God.” It is the most unloving thing I can imagine, and somehow the mainline church has bought it and brought it home. This bad theology has done unspeakable damage to the world.
You: OK, so what do you think happens then?
Me: Well that’s a long story. Could we save that one for another time? I’m ready for thing number six.
You: Fair. OK this might be a quick one. Do you really think the world was created in six literal days a few thousand years ago? And that “science” is made up and there is a grand conspiracy among “scientists” to delude us all and lead us into darkness?
Me: (glaring again) Uh, no. No I do not. Nor do millions of other Christians. That is sad and divisive and I have no problem believing we evolved AND we are made in God’s image. Both can be true. The Big Bang might be what happened when God first spoke “Let there be light.” And there’s nothing in scripture that mandates I hold to a young earth theory in order to be a Christian. That’s just silly.
You: Phew. So you don’t think scientists are trying to lead us astray?
Me: I know so many good scientists. To believe they’re all part of some larger scheme to make me turn away from God is utter nonsense.
You: Good to know. OK I think I already know what you’re going to say for my next question, but let’s see.
Me: (draining my cup) Bring it.
You: Does God love America best?
Me: (spewing my last swallow) Sorry. I’ll get some napkins.
You: (handing me a handkerchief from your pocket) Wow, I guess you feel pretty strongly about that one.
Me: Do I even need to unpack this? I suppose I’ll just say I think this is the most toxic, self-centered ideology we’ve come up with yet. No, God doesn’t favor the United States of America! We are not, nor have we ever been, a “Christian nation.” We were literally formed on the principles of religious freedom and separation of religion and government. How we got here, thinking Jesus likes us better than anyone else, is so unChristian, I can’t even.
I know lots of folks take a narrow read of the book of Revelation and think they see our fair country as one of the images, and from there they derive the idea that we are God’s chosen nation, but that is more short-sided and deluded than I can express. God loves us all wholly and fully. Jesus does not wear a MAGA hat. Trump is not our saviour (huffing loudly).
You: Woah there, I see you’re a little worked up.
Me: You think? I shall pause (taking three deep breaths). OK, what else you got?
You: What do you think about LGBTQ+ folks? Are they doomed?
Me: (nearing tears) No! We are all God’s precious ones. This theme is so broad and deep, I doubt we have time for it all here. But I will tell you this: I was just speaking with a grieving mother whose grown daughter has a wife. This mama wanted to know whether I thought this meant her daughter was beyond salvation.
You: What did you tell her?
Me: I said I can truly not find any harm being done by these women having a committed, loving, consensual relationship. It makes sense to me why God would say not to murder, not to steal, not to bear false witness, not to dishonor parents, and so on. Those things all create real harm. But for the life of me, I cannot find one harmful thing about a loving same-sex relationship. Nor other aspects associated with this community. The trans folks I know are not harming anyone (and I know the alt-right would say they are, but I firmly disagree); the bisexuals and gender nonconforming folk and those who identify as asexual or pansexual or even polyamorous—they are not harming anyone so long as they’re committed to adult, consensual expressions of their sexuality. I know the argument is often made that next we’ll be endorsing pedophaelia, but I’m not going to even dignify that with a rebuttal. We’re talking adults here.
You: So I hear you’re saying we should let the people carry on as they wish as long as it’s adult and consensual, but do you personally think they’ll go to hell, or whatever you think happens to the baddies?
Me: Nope. I sure don’t. And neither do millions of reasonable, thinking, Bible-honoring Christians.
You: OK, I guess we could go on for hours here, but I have two more questions.
Me: (looking sadly at my empty mug) Agreed. What’s next?
You: Do you think Israel must reclaim all its land and rebuild the temple before Jesus can come back?
Me: Well, goodness, I thought maybe we’d get to an easier one here near the end of our time. Guess not. OK, this is another long answer, but in short, no. I don’t think Jesus is waiting for the temple to be built before getting us out of here. That’s such a narrow and weird view of the prophetic, apocalyptic writings of the Bible. And it frankly doesn’t make any sense. All I want is for the folks there, the folks in Russia and Ukraine, those in Sudan, and all the other war-torn regions of the world to find lasting peace and justice. And honestly, the only way I know to help with that is to begin with finding peace in my own heart, being a peacemaker here in my sphere, and sending love and aid to folks in need. Also I’m working on loving the bullies but that’s next level and I wouldn’t say I have that sorted yet.
You: OK well since we’re almost out of time I’ll let that be the segue into my last question.
Me: Sounds good, and then we will have to schedule another time where I can ask you some questions so it’s not all just about how I see the world.
You. Fair. OK you kind of alluded to this already, so I am going to make a guess that you don’t take the Bible literally all the time? And do you think everything happens for a reason?
Me: I’ll take it as a compliment that you don’t think I’m a biblical literalist. How could anyone be if they take it at all seriously? Scripture is a library. It has poetry, history, philosophy, songs, fantasy, and novellas. It’s an ancient eastern collection and when we read it as one unified textbook with modern eyes, no cultural context, no linguistic understanding, and zero appreciation for mystery, we end up reading things like parables as fact. But Jesus’ words are so much more life-giving than that! Reading the Bible isn’t easy. It isn’t straightforward. Anyone who says differently is selling something (probably a Bible).
Also, I notice you snuck in a second question here—do I think everything happens for a reason? Like, do I think God is ultimately in control of every choice we make and that all events here happen in God’s providence?
You: Yes, I guess that was a separate question. Or no? Isn’t that a verse in the Bible?
Me: Not truly. “Everything happens for a reason” is an amalgamation of several scriptures each taken out of context. And it’s a poisonous idea, if you asked me.
You: Well, I did ask you. Why do you think it’s poison?
Me: Because then I would have to tell the Holocaust victims that God really had things under control. I’d have to say to my friend who suffered severe abuse that God was in charge there, too. I’d have to tell my loved one with medical trauma that God somehow wanted it that way to bring about something good, but she may not even live to see it. And I’d have to admit to myself that my own tragic mistakes are all part of God’s overarching plan and that even when I was actively destroying myself and others, God was using that for good. I simply cannot say that. I do not believe God always gets God’s way here. I firmly see how, in my own life, God and I have partnered to turn terrible things into blessings, but that’s a far cry from God wanting me to suffer in the first place.
There is so much more to say about this. If you’re up for it, let’s meet again next week and keep talking. I’d love to hear your thoughts and like I said, be the one with all the questions next. Sound good?
You: I . . . suppose. But maybe next time I’ll wear some splatter protection since you seem to have a problem keeping your coffee to yourself.
Me: Fair enough.
Me to you, reader: First, thanks for staying with me for this conversation that took longer than I expected. These topics are all important and each deserve much more time than I’ve given them here. Hopefully, though, this is a good start.
Second, I want to offer one closing thought to all of us Christians: if the folks not within Christianity (see how I struggle to say non-Christians because that just sounds so othering) think ill of us or want to be away from us, I believe the oness is on us, not them, to cross the divide. Jesus told us pretty clearly to go and tell all nations about Him, and if we just sit and wait for the world to stop hating us so they can listen to us, I think we’ll be waiting forever. So let us normalize these sorts of conversations and see what we can do to bridge the gap.
Much love and grace to you today.
