God is working on my heart so I can forgive Christians.
I had a great talk with Chad’s family, several of whom are pastors and missionaries. I was explaining that when Grace had cancer, I didn’t want people to come and pray with us. Chad’s Uncle was shocked at this.
I explained that when Grace was first diagnosed God told me that he wasn’t going to give us a shortcut. I felt strongly that it was God’s will for her to go through treatment for healing, and it wouldn’t be through a “miracle.” He made no promises that she would survive.
Many of our Christian friends couldn’t accept that. They wanted to “pray through it,” which was their way of saying God was bound to do a miracle if we kept praying; as if we could earn miracles if we practiced enough faith.
It was a hard and lonely spiritual journey for me because I knew God didn’t always answer our prayers, at least, not our prayers for physical healing. We had already buried several children with cancer and we had prayed so hard for them. Thousands of people were praying for them. There was no lack of faith. God said no. His miracle for them was heaven. I had to wrestle through that painful-glorious truth mostly alone.
God allows children to get cancer. He allows them to die. This contradicted many of our Christian friends’ paradigms that God always does “good.” And by good, they meant human standards of good; comfort, health, and wealth. When they saw Grace’s suffering it contradicted their beliefs and I think it frightened them. If God allowed suffering in our lives, then God might allow it in theirs. They often couldn’t sit with us in our pain. I felt like some people were trying to “fix” Grace’s cancer. I didn’t want to be fixed, I didn’t even want Grace’s cancer to be fixed. I wanted to know we were not alone on this terrifying double-journey; one, Grace’s cancer, and two, trusting a God who didn’t make sense.
It was disguised in faith and prayer, but I think for some (not all), it was a way to comfort themselves from having to confront a good, but not a tame, God.
As I explained why I was so bitter to Chad’s uncle, I told him a few things God was pointing out to me recently, as he’s working on healing my heart.
I was listening to the story of Job, how Satan said, “Job is only being faithful because his life is easy. Take away all his comfort and he’ll curse God to his face.” I realized that I had joined Satan’s side. Often when I saw the “hallelujah” Christians at church I thought to myself, it’s just because they’ve never been tested. If they went through hell like I did, they might not be such giddy-happy-go-lucky-good-vibes-only Christians. That’s Satan’s talk and even if it’s true, I’m not going to mimic him. That’s going to be between them and God from now on. If God decides they get to live a comfortable and easy life, that’s his business, not mine. If he wants them to mature in faith through suffering — also his job and not mine. So no matter what, I’m not going to play Satan’s role ever again in that argument. I officially repent.
I realized I resented “parenting” people in places of Christian leadership. I wanted them to know how to help me. I wanted them to guide me. They weren’t able to. They had either zero experience with real suffering or they had not learned anything from their suffering because they didn’t want to accept it. They were so intent to get back to “good” that they didn’t know how to navigate through the bad. They couldn’t help me. It would have taken an extra burden off of me and would have brought me the comfort that I needed- to know God was with us in the pain. But they didn’t. They couldn’t. It’s time for me to stop resenting them for their failures and accept that they’re as imperfect as I am.
I needed to be able to accept that what some Christians did was sinful. Some people with “faith” weren’t just making mistakes (which is a MUCH easier thing to forgive). Some people were in places of leadership and they were wrong that they taught incorrect things about God. Some of them spoke against medicine. Some of them taught that miracles are only for the faithful. Some of them said things that broke me.
There’s something in me that wanted to protect them by not admitting what they did wrong because it made me feel unsafe. I want to be clear- some of these people are real individuals, some are Christian leaders who are preaching the prosperity gospel. Either way, it was wrong. I’m strong enough to say that now.
I felt like my sin was less offensive than those who had sinned against me. I was snarky, judgmental, and unforgiving… but it felt so justified. I felt like I could share snide remarks about Christians with Jesus and that he was probably secretly laughing at them with me. I see now that my sin is the same as all sin. It’s not funny, it’s not acceptable. It’s based in pride and fear. If God hadn’t pointed it out it would have eventually poisoned me. Not that I’ll be able to stop on my own. I know God has a lot of healing to do in me before I stop feeling resentful and bitter.
During communion today I felt God remind me that when I take the cup and the bread, I’m accepting tokens of his blood and his body. In the Bible, he also says his body is the church. Communion is a symbol of our oneness with God, but also our oneness with his people. Those people include the “hallelujah” Christians. If I want to be connected to God, I need to be connected to his people. Even the ones that drive me crazy.
No comments:
Post a Comment