Not that kind of Christian

I recently started following a Facebook page titled, "I’m not that kind of Christian". It’s brought on a great deal of reflection.

Before 2016, I would’ve called myself an Evangelical Christian.

However, after the Church embarrassed herself with outspoken praise and support for Donald Trump, I was ashamed to use that name to describe myself. Note: not ashamed of God or of the Gospel, but ashamed of Christians. I didn’t want to be associated with far-right Christianity or Christian nationalism or MAGA-Trumpers.

I didn’t want others to think I was the kind of person who hated gay people or supported racist policies or judged and preached at everyone. Which is not to say that I haven’t done my share of judging and preaching over the years, but... when you know better, you do better.

I wanted to be known for loving others and being kind and having empathy towards people who are suffering. I wanted to be known for being an advocate for those whose voices were being silenced. I wanted to be known for making the world a better place for all.

Nowadays, I’m less afraid to say that I am a Christian, though I've certainly dropped the "Evangelical" title. And I do often find myself qualifying it with perhaps not these exact words, but something to the extent of, "I’m not that kind of Christian." 

Even my Facebook page carries the words, “A Christian who believes that loving Jesus means loving others." I want to be different. I want people to see Christ in me. To see God's love in me.

I may have written about this before, I don't recall, but we had a staff retreat sometime back and during our time of affirmations, there were a few staff who were highlighted and praised for their faith. 

I wasn't one of them.

It used to be, everyone knew where I stood. Everyone knew I was a Christian. Some people even admired my faith or asked me questions about it. I have even received emails and Facebook messages from people who I knew a long time ago who have reached out and said that my faith inspired them to find their own faith.

But it's been a while since that has been true.

Perhaps I've been quiet for too long. Or uncertain of what I believe. Perhaps I've been too secretive about this journey I've been on.

Which is partly why I started this blog. The blog has been really helpful in putting my thoughts together and figuring out where I stand with faith. I am finally at the point where I can confidently say:

I am a Christian. But I'm not that type of Christian.

We know that Christianity was birthed from Judaism and was at first considered a Jewish sect. It didn’t really become its own separate religion until the faith spread beyond the Jewish community in the Old World to the Gentiles.

The name "Christian" literally means "little Christ". It was originally used as a derogatory term to refer to Jesus' followers. This is similar to how sometimes the liberal media refers to Trump's followers as "Trumpkins" or "Trumpers". These are not meant to be complimentary terms, they are meant to be insulting or belittling. That’s what the name "Christian" meant back then. It was a mocking term.

And yet the Church has now embraced the name "Christian" for 2000 years as our identity. There are Catholic Christians, Evangelical Christians, Jewish Christians, all kinds of Christians - all kinds of "little Christs".

Do we take this name seriously, though? Are we truly trying to be "little Christs"? Are we truly trying to be like Jesus? And if not, why not? Shouldn’t that be our goal?

We get so caught up in other things of this world. We’re trying to be a lot of things. We’re trying to be successful and wealthy and to get ahead. Or we're trying to be beautiful and thin or fit. Or we’re trying to be an influencer or to get our name known and our voices heard. We want to be somebody. We want to make our stamp on the world and to be remembered.

In all that we are doing, what are we doing to try to be like Christ? Is that even on our radar?

How does one become more like Christ anyway? Studies show that most Christians do not attend church regularly or read their Bibles. They call themselves "Christian" because they once said a "sinner's prayer" (which is not in the Bible, btw) and maybe attend a service on holidays and have basic faith in God and Jesus. But can such a faith save them?

Consider James 2:14-19:

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.”

Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.

At the end of the day, if we are truly Christian, if we are truly Christlike, people who follow His commandments and draw near to Him through prayer and Bible study and a community of believers - we won’t have to tell anyone that we are Christians. We won’t even have to say, "I’m not that kind of Christian" - because people will see it. They will see Christ in us.

And perhaps that is what being a Christian is really all about.