A Little Hair Of The Dog...

Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything here. Mainly because in recent months I found that there was more harm than good in sharing my thoughts and views. But that was when I was locked into a system that I am no longer a part of.

So I guess all bets are off now, huh?

The “system” I speak of is the American Christian Church. Maybe it’s “church” with a capital C or a lower-case C… I can never seem to get the two straight. But who cares. This is my blog, so I’ll live with my grammatical errors and won’t lose any sleep over it.

Let me start by saying, I am now and will always be a Christian. But before you chose to define what that word means to you, let me tell you what it does and does not mean to me.

 What being a Christian does mean:

• Ascribing to and following the teachings of Jesus Christ
• Living my life based on the principles of the Bible with an open mind that while a) I believe in the infallibility of scripture, b) I don’t believe in the infallibility of man to always properly interpret or apply said scripture
• Knowing that the best “sermon” Jesus ever taught is found in the book of Matthew where Jesus was asked – not surprisingly by the religious elite who had all the “do’s and don’ts” of the Old Testament down pat and were looking to entrap him – of all the commandments, which one is the most important? Jesus answered that the greatest command is to love God – but he didn’t stop there. He went on to say that the next greatest command is to love others. But he still didn’t stop there. He finished by saying, “I tell you the truth, all the law hangs on these two commands.” Love God. Love others. That’s it. You get those two nailed down, you’ve got it all figured out. We need to learn to crawl before we can walk, people.
• Living every moment from a humble disposition that whatever truth and goodness I have found in my relationship with God, it does not give me a platform to brag, beat my chest, or judge others. I am simply a beggar who is trying to show others where I found bread.

 What being a Christian does not mean:

• Ascribing to a theology and belief system that exists solely to point out how wrong everyone else is through judgment, hatred, and inclusiveness
• Living a life based on archaic (and often wrong) interpretations of scripture and using it as ammunition for the aforementioned judgment, hatred, and inclusiveness 
• Knowing the best sermon Jesus never taught has to do with forcing narrow-minded beliefs on the masses and using the political machine as your own personal Gestapo as a means to “further the kingdom” and bring freedom and democracy to all through the war and violence of modern day Crusades
• Living every moment with a disposition of fear that the only way for others to not find out how bad you really are is to point fingers and marginalize as many others as possible in a “holy smokescreen” of deception, transference, and projection

Obviously there are many more differences between true Christianity and the bastardized and perverted gospel so many American “Christians” seem to preach at every opportunity, but this is just a start.

For years I tried to fight this system but a few months ago I made the mistake of softening my fight and trying to become allies with these so-called “Christians” in an effort to pursue peace and partner together – which I now see as a silly and futile attempt.

Some of you know what me and my family has experienced over the last few months preceding our decision to leave our island community and set out on this grand new adventure, but some of you do not. And that was intentional. Airing dirty laundry is painful and can be detrimental, so we opted to keep our mouths shut regarding what we were going through. Well, as much as possible, anyway. I know the occasional cryptic or passive aggressive Facebook post squeaked through my discretion at times.

I won’t go into more detail than what I feel is necessary, but I feel that I’ve had some revelations lately that are worth sharing because I know that I am not alone. I am not the first one to be cast out of the “holy bless me club” that so many American Christian churches have become because I didn’t fit a standard or I dared point out that the emperor wasn’t wearing any clothes. There are many of us castaways who have been chewed up and spit out by the religious machine and the collateral damage is staggering. There is no doubt in my mind as to why so many people I encounter who are in the same boat have refused to go to church again and have allowed their experiences to forever alter how they see Jesus, the Bible, and Christianity in general.

And after what we’ve been through, I can’t say that I blame them.

American Christians, while well meaning (I hope), can be the most abusive and damaging people I’ve ever met in my life. I am thankful that somehow, some way, through the midst of this abuse it never altered my view of God or what I believe to be true at the core of Christianity. Frankly, I don’t know how this is possible, but I am thankful that my faith roots ran deep enough to help me weather this storm.

Many are not so fortunate.

Many of them, finding themselves in the destructive wake after being chewed up and spit out, will never again trust someone who calls themselves a “Christian” let alone set foot in a church again. Unfortunately they don’t know that what they encountered was not the true Gospel or representation of who God really is and so they allow their experience to forever close their minds to anything related to God, faith, or Christianity.

To simply say “this breaks my heart” is an understatement.

Believe me, I was tempted to do the same. I wanted to write off all Christians and churches and distance myself from them so as to never have to be hurt like this again. I wanted to lump them all together and believe that anyone who believes in God or follows the teachings of Jesus is no different than the spiritual abusers who had just turned my life upside down. I wanted so badly to believe they were all the same horrible people, but I couldn’t. I can’t. I won’t.

We’re only a few short weeks into this adventure, and yet we’ve had encounters with people who are true, honest, sincere and authentic followers of Christ time and time again. Every time I want to lump them all in together, it seems as if God brings another authentic believer my way and shows me the truth.

For those of us who have woken up in the morning with the remnants of having a little too much fun the night before (aka, a hangover), we might be familiar with the term “a little hair of the dog that bit you.” In this context, it is the belief that a little bit of alcohol the morning after is actually helpful in curing and overcoming the hangover from the very thing you indulged in the night before. This is why bloody marys, mimosas and other breakfast cocktails are so popular on the weekends. Not just to kick off a day of drinking, but to help cure the ails of the previous night of drinking.

The saying actually seems to come from Scotland where long ago the belief was that if you were bit by a rabid dog, if you put a piece of that same dog’s hair in the open wound, it would heal just fine and you wouldn’t suffer the normal side effects that a rabid dog bite would give you.

It seems that, based on my recent experiences, this is also true for Christianity.

While I am trying to heal and recover from my wounds afflicted by evil people claiming to be good and ascribing allegiance to a system they clearly don’t understand, it seems as if the kindness of authentic believers who are part of the very same system is the very salve for my soul that I need in order to truly heal and recover.

It’s antithetical, I know. It’s scary to make yourself vulnerable again. Some may say it’s not worth it. Just like one who is looking into a glass too early in the morning and contemplating whether or not the very thing that has caused your pounding headache and nausea will actually help cure them and scare them away, it takes a step of faith. It may not be for you. If you want to continue with the pains of your religious hangover on your own, that is your decision, and I respect that. But I hope and pray that someday, you will encounter a true and authentic follower of Jesus Christ who can perhaps help you see things otherwise.

In the meantime, while I am not ready to step foot inside a church building yet, I’m enjoying a little hair of the dog in small doses and am starting to feel better.