Don't Call Me Christian (At Least Not Right Now)

The Kim Davis rally livestream showed up on my new feed during my afternoon Facebook fix. In the video footage of her release from jail, he takes the stage on a flatbed semi-trailer, flanked by presidential candidate Gov. Mike Huckabee. The crowd gathered erupts with applause as she comes up the stairs, and my heart sinks, even as I am entranced with what I'm seeing.. He gives her the microphone. The crowd's roar distorts my cheap desktop speakers, and my stomach twists into a tight knot.

Gov. Huckabee, along with her lawyer, Matthew Staver, console her as she weeps, and then, Kim Davis begins to speak through her sobs, "Thank you all so much. I love you all so very much," she said.

"She sounds so nice and sincere, and yet I cannot stand her!?" I think to myself as the rally goers again burst into applause, chanting "I'm with Kim! I'm with Kim!"

I feel physically ill, as, still sobbing into the microphone, she continues, "I just want to give God the glory. His people have rallied, and you are a strong people." Gov. Huckabee nods in approval. "We serve a living God who knows exactly where each and every one of us is at. Just keep on pressing. Don't let down, because he is here. He's worthy."

She raises her arms in apparent victory and the crowd again cheers wildly. My entire body quivers and  I feel like I might vomit.

Completely repulsed, I swing my desk chair around and go for a walk.

(Before I go any further, I want all of you pastor/counselor/fixer types to just stop right there. I'm not writing this blog for your sympathy, empathy, or affirmation. I'm writing with brutal honesty in order to name something very raw and extremely personal. You're not going to fix it by trying to convince me how we need to reclaim the word "Christian." Or make yourself feel better by trying to offer condolences and reminders that "not all Christians are like that." You're right about the word Christian, and I'm fully aware that not everyone is Kim Davis. There- argument over. Back to my post.)

I cannot begin to explain how foreign Kim Davis' version of Christianity felt to me. Never in my life had I felt like an outsider to the faith I know so intimately. Nothing I observed resembled anything vaguely familiar with what I understand it means to be Christian. Up until today, I was comfortable being called a Christian. Today, I don't know. Today it feels like more of an insult than an identity. The visceral reaction I had to what I saw shook me to the core. As I walked the halls at work I decided two things:

1) Either that's not Christian or I'm not Christian; and 

2) I'm writing a blog tonight when I get home. 

As I sit, ponder, and write my blog this evening, it occurs to me that the Kim Davis rally also looked eerily familiar...

Before my conversion experience called seminary, I too was a Bible-thumping, God-fearing, 'Merica-loving Christian. I know this language all too well, as it used to be a deeply entrenched part of my identity. I knew when the crowd was going to cheer and why they were cheering. I connected with the passion that drove the young man to create the sign: "We ought to obey God rather then men. -Acts 5:29." And I know the depth of commitment Kim feels as she stands against homosexuality, because I lived it.

I took my first paid ministry position as a junior in high school, and continued on in ministry long after I really wanted to do something else. The whole time I was thinking, "If I could become a good enough minister, then God will finally fix me, and I would no longer be gay."

Self-reflection is good for the soul, because, tonight, I am reminded, once again, that the very nature of our being is to grow, to change, to encounter new ideas that expand our horizons. And yet so often we build our lives to shelter us from this very truth. At it's core, fundamentalism is designed to shelter its adherents from that which is at the very core of being human - progress.

French philosopher, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, put it this way, "Progress is the soul of the universe." The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. reminded us, "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice." And it was Jesus who entreated his followers, "‘You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy...but I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you...'"

So, here I am. It's 12:30 am, I've been wrestling with this post since 6:30 pm, and I still don't have a conclusion. The beauty of progress is that life doesn't always wrap itself up in a pretty little packaged conclusion, and therefore, neither do I, but if you're curious, feel free to check back with me later.