in the face with all the things I say and want to do and how they conflict
with who I am and where all the problems really are. As much as I feel
mentally I have always "known" what Don Miller is saying, I see over and over
again how I have acted on a radically different scale. If what I believe is
determined by how I act, I am a fundamentalist, legalistic, stuffy, pompous,
religious "Christian". It makes me sick to think it, but it is probably
true. Then I read this and for some reason it hit me like a ton of bricks.
"In a recent radio interview I was sternly asked by the host, who did not
consider himself a Christian, to defend Christianity. I told him that I
couldn't do it, and moreover, that I didn't want to defend the term. He
asked me if I was a Christian and I told him yes. 'Then why don't you want
to defend Christianity?' he asked, confused. I told him I no longer knew
what the term meant. Of the hundreds of thousands of people listening to his
show that day, some of them had terrible experiences with Christianity; they
may have been yelled at by a teacher in a Christian school, abused by a
minister, or browbeaten by a Christian parent. To them, the term
Christianity meant something that no Christian I know would defend. By
fortifying the term, I am only making them more and more angry. I won't do
it. Stop ten people on the street and ask them what they think of when they
hear the word Christianity and you will get ten different answers. How can I
defend a term that means ten different things to ten different people? I
told the radio show host that I would rather talk about Jesus and how I came
to believe that Jesus exists and that He likes me. The host looked back at
me with tears in his eyes. When we were done, he asked me if we could go get
lunch together. He told me how much he didn't like Christianity but how he
had always wanted to believe Jesus was the Son of God."
consider himself a Christian, to defend Christianity. I told him that I
couldn't do it, and moreover, that I didn't want to defend the term. He
asked me if I was a Christian and I told him yes. 'Then why don't you want
to defend Christianity?' he asked, confused. I told him I no longer knew
what the term meant. Of the hundreds of thousands of people listening to his
show that day, some of them had terrible experiences with Christianity; they
may have been yelled at by a teacher in a Christian school, abused by a
minister, or browbeaten by a Christian parent. To them, the term
Christianity meant something that no Christian I know would defend. By
fortifying the term, I am only making them more and more angry. I won't do
it. Stop ten people on the street and ask them what they think of when they
hear the word Christianity and you will get ten different answers. How can I
defend a term that means ten different things to ten different people? I
told the radio show host that I would rather talk about Jesus and how I came
to believe that Jesus exists and that He likes me. The host looked back at
me with tears in his eyes. When we were done, he asked me if we could go get
lunch together. He told me how much he didn't like Christianity but how he
had always wanted to believe Jesus was the Son of God."
It struck me as I was reading how often Don Miller says that Jesus likes
somebody. Not "loves", which we have skewed beyond all recognition and has
far too many meanings. Likes. We know what that means. If you like
somebody, you want to hang out with them, do nice things for them and go have
fun together. It means you consider them a friend and invite them to your
birthday parties and sleepovers and sit up late and talk on the phone and are
happy to see them randomly at the mall. It's easy to say "Jesus loves me"
because the term is so ambiguous and has so many meanings. I hear people say
(fairly often, sadly) "I love them, I just don't LIKE them," and truth be
told, I am guilty of thinking it myself, though maybe not in so many words.
Jesus likes me. Jesus likes you. He wants to go have ice cream with us and
sit on the sofa till two in the morning talking and laughing and crying. He
wants us to call Him up on a Tuesday evening when we have nothing to do and
just chat about things. He wants to meet all our friends and watch us play
Frisbee and doesn't care if we are awful at sports. He likes us. He loves
us too, and that's where the dying and forgiveness and Spirit and even
chastisement come from. But we separate that out somehow and in our own
petty way manage to view him as a rich and eccentric uncle who will leave us
all his money if we do some peculiar things like change our name and eat peas
twice a week and marry somebody who is related to somebody named Frankenstein
or something. Jesus doesn't want to write us into a will. He wants to be in
a relationship with us; one that looks like a super awesome version of
friendship. It's really wonderful.