"For whatever you may think of me
Any thoughts you might allow
I am not who I would like to be, I'm just who I am right now
And if I caused you any pain
If the words I spoke weren't kind
I confess, repent and take the blame
Let's just leave it all behind
We are fragile everyone, we all long for something more
Things are said and things are done
And the pieces hit the floor - we are so fragile"
~from Fragile by Ralston Bowles
"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." ~ Dr. Seuss
A week or so ago, someone found something on my facebook page to be offensive. It was not inappropriate language or anything like that. It was a group I joined, one created by my husband to make others laugh and inspire honest, thoughtful discussion in these politically charged times. The name of the group
was somewhat perplexing, if not shocking, but once you read the description and posted items you would see it was total satire. While a presidential candidate was mentioned, it endorsed no political person or party. It was meant to bring to light the ridiculousness of misinformation on both sides of political discussions. Ironically, it did so in more ways than we ever intended.
Rather than seeing it for what it was (or even looking at anything other than the title, I suspect) someone took it seriously. And, instead of asking either one of us about it, they told others. When we found out about it, we were devastated. My husband was devastated because he has tried, as a minister, to walk that fine line of being an open and honest example of his faith lived out, while still trying to be respectful and private about politics and other divisive issues in the church today. I am proud of him for how well he walks that line; it is not an easy task.
I was devastated, too, but for different reasons. First, because I was finally starting to feel comfortable being who I am, and this was a setback in the process. See, for years and years I struggled with my faith and my convictions. I don't always look like the typical baptist or agree with everything those in my Bible Studies or Sunday School classes say. I've always had a passion for justice and mercy and the "least of these." I have been blessed with friends and family members who are not typically the kind of people you find in an evangelical church, and it has given me a unique understanding. I was challenged in my faith and service in college and came out of it (I believe) changed for the better. But, at the same time, it was not uncommon for me to be sitting in a church service or participating in discussion and hear something very hurtful about myself or my convictions. When we were first married and living in Birmingham, I had a crisis of faith. For one thing, I had just experienced the unexpected death of a man who was like my second father. But for another, all around me I saw Christians full of hatred for anyone not exactly like them in their walk with Christ. I had always considered myself a strong woman, not afraid to stand up for what I believe, but I sat in awkward silence as I listened to brothers and sisters in Christ declare others, and unknowingly sometimes
me, lost. I was hurt and confused by those at my church. I felt unacceptable and out of place with God's people and couldn't reconcile or separate that from God Himself. It was hard to go to church and hard on my relationship with God.
Fortunately, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. God led us to some great families of faith and showed me amazing examples of wise, gracious believers in our last few months in Birmingham. Then, we moved to our present church, and it felt like a fresh start. Of course, we moved and had a baby and hit the ground running, so at first I barely had time to think at all, let alone contemplate my theological or political convictions. But as I've been studying and praying lately, I've realized the best thing I can give my girls is an example of a strong Christian woman living out her convictions. I love Big Sister's individuality and I want her to value
who she is. That is something I can't tell her to do- I have to show her. So I have tried to be honest. When God uses me to teach, whether it be women or the children in our kid's worship time, I try my best to share what He tells me, what I see in His word. I share who I am and who God is making me to be. I am still not out to proclaim an agenda or advocate my political views- I doubt most of the people that know me best even know that I am- gasp!- a registered democrat. Because it is just one component of who I am.
But it is who I am. So this election season, I felt convicted to stop sitting uncomfortably when someone said something hateful about
me. I didn't want to simply declare political views hapharzardly- that is divisive and leaves people uncomfortable, which was what I wanted to avoid in the first place. And I didn't want to enter into political debates and change people's minds, except about their ideas of who can be a Christian. I didn't seek out political discussion, but I grew tired of not returning to a mom's group or a Bible study because I was offended and felt too ashamed to share a different point of view. When friends on facebook made comments that said no one could be a Christian and a Democrat, I tried to offer them evidence to the contrary: me. That's all I've ever put out there- myself. It was nice to be honest. But it was also really hard. I trusted a lot of people with a part of who I am that I hadn't really shown before. And then someone took one look at one thing I said or did, and instead of being honest with me and voicing their disagreement, they told other people.
How many other people, I will never know. Have you ever walked through the halls of your own church wondering who is judging you behind their "Sunday Morning Smile?" I have, on more than one occasion. I suspect it is what it felt like to be Zachaeus or Mary Magdelene or even John the Baptist. I also suspect it is how thousands of churchgoers feel each week- either because they are visitors or fringe members, or because they feel ashamed of something they have done, or they feel ashamed because of something someone in the church has done to them. Either way, it doesn't much feel like the body of Christ. That was the second reason this whole thing was so devastating to me: I feel like someone broke the trust that I placed in them, not only as a "facebook friend" or a friend of a facebook friend, but also as a fellow believer in Christ. Jesus is very clear about how to handle disagreements with other believers (Matthew 18), and I trusted that the people I love, with whom I have tried to be upfront and honest, would be the same to me.
I still want to trust. If I go back to hiding who I am, no one will win. I thought about editing my friend list on facebook, but I don't know who hurt me in this situation, and I've come to the point where I don't want to know. If you were that person, its ok. At least I've gotten a (hopefully) insightful blog entry out of it. I am going to keep being me, hopefully encouraging, entertaining and challenging but not offending. But please, if I ever say or do something that concerns you, tell me. If I say something that you don't understand or that doesn't seem right, ask me. I'm not perfect, I have a lot to learn, and I need correction and accountability. I've got a lot of growth yet to come. We all do. And we need the church, the body of Christ, to be a safe place as we go through the joys and pains of growing together and as individuals. I can think of no better place to discover and love who we are.
It started with a robe and warm socks, and then she found her hat & gloves. I'm not really sure how the lei or balloon scepter factored in, but did I mention I was really looking forward to getting dressed by myself? I let the eccentric accessories slide.
