Find a Way to Love

I’ve had a crappy week. For the first time in 2 years, it has nothing to do with hate speech coming out of Washington, DC in the form of a petulant presidential tweet. Instead, it has to do with hate rhetoric under the guise of Christianity directed at people I love. It’s weeks like this that I agree with a comment Christian author and pastor Jen Hatmaker wrote in her book, For the Love, “Honestly, I love Jesus, but sometimes his followers give me a migraine.”

It’s not surprising to me that the number of people who identify as Christians is decreasing. Several polls conducted in the past few years substantiate this fact. A Pew Forum study found that in the U.S., the Christian population decreased by 8 percent between 2007 and 2014. An ABC News/Washington Post poll found that 36 percent of Americans in 2017 identified themselves as members of a Protestant faith compared to 50 percent in 2003.

While some of the reasons why individuals don’t affiliate with organized religion may be due to a conservative political agenda, I wonder if there is more to it than that? Could it be that those individuals are disgusted because they see churches disconnected from the Biblical teachings of Jesus on love and serving the poor, and instead preaching judgment?

I know that I have struggled with this, and it kept me from attending church in Dallas for many years. And, I’ve struggled with those same thoughts this week when I heard the hurt and anguish in the voices of those I love. I don’t have the answers, but the words from a sermon I heard a few weeks ago have helped.

The sermon, entitled “Find a Way to Love,” was delivered at a time when a Special Session of the General Conference of the United Methodist Church was occurring in St. Louis. Many churches, such as mine, want to end the ban on same-sex marriage and the ordination of LGBTQ clergy. There was much at stake for inclusive churches like mine. Ultimately, the ban was upheld, and it has caused much pain for many members of my congregation.

On the Sunday that the General Conference opened, the pastor acknowledged that many painful and hurtful things would be said; some out of ignorance and some out of malicious intent. He reminded us that the Bible would be used as a weapon, not as a document to unite.

Luke 6:27-28 says, “But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.”

This is hard. I don’t really want to pray for the people hurting my loved ones. The hurt and pain they are intentionally causing makes my blood boil. But, the pastor’s words reminded me that praying for those who abuse us “prevents our hearts from souring.” He also said that we can pray for these people without being around them. In fact, he said that we don’t have to be around people who constantly abuse us. We can pray for them from a distance, which can protect us from their abusive words.

My beliefs and views have changed over the years because of many conversations with clergy that I respect, as well as discussions with numerous friends who are of different faiths or non-religious beliefs. In all honesty, I’m probably more spiritual than religious, although this comment is often met with eye rolling from evangelicals. The fact is that I’m more concerned with respect and civility toward those who think differently than I am with church doctrine established in past centuries.

I’ve spent a lot of time during the past 2 years working on me — trying to be a better leader and person; trying to make a positive contribution to society. I’ve read many books and listened to many podcasts on how to do this. My sister and I are continuing to listen to Mel Robbins’ tips each day. One of the things she has said is, “if it is hard to be around people, you’re with the wrong people.” Although my prayers are more meditations these days, I will pray for those whose vile intentions I have witnessed – if for no other reason than self-preservation.

If someone’s continued actions show me there is hate in their soul instead of love, I will limit my exposure to them. I will try my hardest to protect myself and those I love. And, I’ll continue to surround myself with mindful, caring people who lift me up on a daily basis.

That’s my advice for my loved ones, too.