Danger
This morning, I was on YouTube listening to a bunch of worship songs that have been stuck in my head. One of the videos I found was of a live performance, and so there was a guy talking, too. "What would it look like," he said, "if we really let God take control of our lives? If we didn't box him up, giving him only partial control of our lives? What if we trusted him instead of in ourselves or other people? What if we were fearless in our faith?"
Having been raised on that milk, I was committed from the very beginning to be exactly that. Fearless, daring, bold, passionate, committed, authentic, honest about what I believed. That was my modus operandi, the norm. And de jure, I "gave God control" of whatever situation I was in, best I knew how. That doesn't mean I've always succeeded, but I've never struggled with that principle. People call God's love dangerous, people speak about how we should be daring, how faith is an adventure, how we need to be willing to risk everything. They might get a little more specific and say that the world will hate us, that we will be controversial and stand out and become a target if we're truly living our our faith. They also say that we shouldn't box God in, that we shouldn't expect him to be only as big as our own faith. We should be willing to learn from other people. To accept that we are limited. These are not unfamiliar ideals.
In my admittedly naïve, but very earnest application of all these ideals, I have certainly risked a lot. I have found out that God is bigger than people want him to be. I have gotten a decent amount of negative attention. I have unintentionally strained relationships. I have been told I'm going to hell. I've been accused of heresy and blasphemy, and this by my best friends. I've been told by near strangers that I follow a false God and that my faith is invalid. I have been told to keep my thoughts to myself, to be less loud and passionate about what matters to me by authorities I trusted. But more than any of that, I have felt silent pressure from many directions.
And no, none of that has happened while speaking directly about the Christian Gospel. The only thing I can speak about these days that means much to me and also solicits a positive, welcoming reaction from people is a Christianese translation of my faith. I actually find it heartening to post Bible verses and verses of hymns that touch me on Facebook, because like 20 people always like them every time. So no, I have not been persecuted for my Christianity. But the things I've been talking about and getting hurt for are inextricably linked to my faith. The first I have dealt with a great deal on this blog, but the second I haven't, and can't for a while yet. But when I can, I'll post this.
Having been raised on that milk, I was committed from the very beginning to be exactly that. Fearless, daring, bold, passionate, committed, authentic, honest about what I believed. That was my modus operandi, the norm. And de jure, I "gave God control" of whatever situation I was in, best I knew how. That doesn't mean I've always succeeded, but I've never struggled with that principle. People call God's love dangerous, people speak about how we should be daring, how faith is an adventure, how we need to be willing to risk everything. They might get a little more specific and say that the world will hate us, that we will be controversial and stand out and become a target if we're truly living our our faith. They also say that we shouldn't box God in, that we shouldn't expect him to be only as big as our own faith. We should be willing to learn from other people. To accept that we are limited. These are not unfamiliar ideals.
In my admittedly naïve, but very earnest application of all these ideals, I have certainly risked a lot. I have found out that God is bigger than people want him to be. I have gotten a decent amount of negative attention. I have unintentionally strained relationships. I have been told I'm going to hell. I've been accused of heresy and blasphemy, and this by my best friends. I've been told by near strangers that I follow a false God and that my faith is invalid. I have been told to keep my thoughts to myself, to be less loud and passionate about what matters to me by authorities I trusted. But more than any of that, I have felt silent pressure from many directions.
And no, none of that has happened while speaking directly about the Christian Gospel. The only thing I can speak about these days that means much to me and also solicits a positive, welcoming reaction from people is a Christianese translation of my faith. I actually find it heartening to post Bible verses and verses of hymns that touch me on Facebook, because like 20 people always like them every time. So no, I have not been persecuted for my Christianity. But the things I've been talking about and getting hurt for are inextricably linked to my faith. The first I have dealt with a great deal on this blog, but the second I haven't, and can't for a while yet. But when I can, I'll post this.
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I started a different blog to talk about it. You're welcome to ask me for the link.
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