I recently read a quote that challenged my “Christianity” to the core.
You know the kind of moment, when you see, hear or read something that practically shoves a mirror in your face and shouts, “This is you!!”
“If being a Christian has made you a sourpuss, you’re doing it wrong.”
BAM!!!!!
Right in the kisser!
Of course, if you know me, you’re probably thinking, “Mike’s not what I’d call a sourpuss.”
But if you’re my wife (and only one of you should be answering that with a ‘yes’), you’ve heard me grumble about people not taking life or God or the Bible serious enough quite a few times.
And so it dawned on me that in what should be the most joyous time of my life, I still tend to be unhappy way too much.
But I’m a Christian, shouldn’t I be getting upset about people not taking God serious?
Don’t I have the right to be upset?
No!
And though I could write volumes about all the reasons why, I’ll just give you the main reason for this post’s sake.
When Jesus said “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” in John 13:34-35, He wasn’t talking to non-believers.
He was talking to His inner-most band of brothers.
But the reason He said it was precisely so non-believers would hopefully observe a trait among true believers so distinctively authentic that it compelled them to take a closer look at Christianity.
And here I am, grumbling about people not taking Christianity serious enough, when the whole time I am just as guilty about not digging deep enough into actual Christianity myself.
Because if I were, I would find that at the very center of Christianity is a God who humbled Himself to the level of a human, sacrificed His life to a brutal death, and with one of His dying breaths begged for the forgiveness of those who were killing Him.
Now, does that sound like the Christianity I claim to have in my heart when I’m doing my grumbling?
I think not.
Maybe you’re still not convinced I have a big problem.
After all, I’m only human, right?
Well, consider the following.
Many of us have rolled up to a red-light at an intersection or exit ramp off the interstate and experienced cynical thoughts about that unshaven stranger holding the cardboard sign asking for money.
And who could blame us?
I mean, haven’t we all heard stories about how some of these individuals make healthy livings this way, or using the cash to buy booze or drugs?
True or not, the counterfeit homeless repel us from the people who truly and desperately need a helping hand.
To a certain extent, could the same thing be happening between “Christians” and non-believers?
This reminds me of a line from a John Eldredge book that went something like this.
“If you want to destroy the economy, flood the market with counterfeit bills.”
So doesn’t it stand to reason that the best way to destroy Christianity is to flood the market with counterfeit Christians?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting that I – or anyone like me who still struggles from time to time – is a counterfeit Christian.
However, if a non-believer – knowing I’m a proclaimed Christian – were to catch me in the middle one of my minor self-righteous fits, what kind of an impression am I making on them?
Sure, you and I both know that we all, like the apostle Paul declared, fall short of the glory of God.
But is my behavior compelling non-believers (i.e.: giving them a plausible reason to explore Christianity), or repelling them (i.e.: just pushing them further way)?
To the non-believer, I’m essentially a religious hypocrite, and I’ve just given them more ammunition.
When I think about this, it honestly makes me feel ill that I may be driving people away from Christianity, making me realize I have plenty of “dying to myself” still left to do.
Perhaps you do too?
And if so, here’s a question for us both to ponder:
If our own actions sometimes bother us – the proclaimed believers – what is it doing to the non-believers who so desperately need someone to compel them?
A Changing Grace 