Of me, the Pope and Crisis Christians

This week the Pope visited the UK amidst some controversy. While others ranted and raved and foamed at the teeth, and some waited for a miracle, I lined the streets of my pillows and chose to watch the ceremony from the comfort of my bed. I said Amen at the blessing. Mummy, that’s enough.

With no hesitation I will say that I lie somewhat between the accepting-of everything faithful who lined the streets with their holy innocents peering in pilgrimage to see the Holy See, and the virulently outraged who would like to see the pontiff incarcerated for his crimes against humanity. I would not say that my faith is lukewarm. If I would have to set a temperature, I would say a quiet 70 degrees, just enough to take what I like and discard what I don’t but not a roaring bubbling boiling point that would guarantee a scald or a burn. I take religion and its accessories with a healthy pinch of salt. I take God wholeheartedly.

I don’t really like pastors except maybe Joel Osteen and TD Jakes. I hate the idea of compulsory tithes. The God that I know is a God of quiet love, who makes me cry because of his goodness, and he is very much at odds with a bible banging, screaming on the pulpit, God of Anger and Wrath who is seeking to wreak vengeance and rage hell-fire on unbelievers. I like the Catholic Church. It is one of the only faiths that recognises openly that a lot of religion is ritual. I like the pomp and ceremony, the initiation rites of Holy Communion and Confirmation and the honouring of the Saints and the Blessed Virgin which balances the male bias of the rest of it all. I don’t condone in any way the abusing of children and I would clamp the testicles of those priests myself if required. I think the Church’s policies on contraception especially in the Developing World are ridiculous and to be honest, dangerous. I also know that the Church is sexist. I believe that the Church should be called to account, made to pay and openly denounce its spurious claims of infallibility but it is also the Catholic Church that gave me my education and which does some marvellous work in the Third World and I am mature enough to realise that in life, I won’t agree with everything or everybody all the time. I take what I like and I leave what I don’t like. Give me the Pope in his Honda PopeMobile any day to screaming Creflo Dollar who makes poor people tithe all their money so he can have a private jet. I call this selective tolerance.

Maybe it is this sense of balance, that leads me to look askance when I encounter Crisis Christians. They have been washed by the blood, pleaded in Grace, brought to the paths of Righteousness but what makes them different and usually even more fanatically zealous is that their new found faith in Jesus Christ in born out a (truly) horrible crisis. They live by the crumbs of a pastor’s teachings and do not question of query the teaching itself. They cut themselves off from the “world” and from friends who are not similarly “saved” to exist in a bubble of equal yokedom. They minister to you every day. Crisis Christians convince themselves that they are “wretched” and choose to live in a cocoon of stasis as “they wait on the Lord” to heal their pain or situation. Maybe I overegg the pudding because after all, it is better to probably cling to faith than to lose one’s faith in times of crisis.

I also preface this by saying that I know that we all seek solace in Christ when times are particularly difficult. An apt Bible verse can be most welcome on a depressing grey morning and there are nothing like the Psalms to give God praise when something marvellous has happened. Touch wood that I don’t experience a crisis event and become of “them” but there is something mildly amusing, if not disingenuous about invoking Christ with ardent fervour only after a terrible break up, a divorce or a financial crisis. Most Crisis Christians become “born again” at this juncture, go to terrible lengths to attribute their suffering to a religious experience and become valiant Crusaders to convince the rest of us mortals that we will be cast in hell-fire if we are not “cleansed by the blood” by a similar religious experience. My viewpoint is that each one lives his/her own life as he/her sees it fit. I draw the line at trying to “minister” to me. Please can I work out my own salvation? Never mind that I believe in Jesus and I try to live a Christian life, that isn’t enough, they say. But forgive me that Christ isn’t only solace and refuge. The King of Love my God is. Running to God in times of distress is easy. When life is going well and the blessings of God are evident, we are tempted to think that we are in control. This is the occasion that should spur us to draw closer to God, if we are so inclined.

The God that I serve is a God of Love not a God of Fear. If one has always believed and trusted in God, why does Christian-ness need to be redefined. There are junctures in life when we are convinced that we should take our faith more seriously, but to assume that this catalyst is the essential element to faith is being presumptuous in underestimating the myriad ways in which God’s blessings can overflow. Maybe God’s love for me is evidenced via his overpouring of blessings and happiness and joy, I need not wallow in suffering and feelings of impending doom and call myself wretched to live a life satisfactory to him. He has chosen to give me his greatest gift- life, and it is with joy that I try to do all that I can to show him that I value and cherish the experiences and the opportunities he has bestowed upon me. I give him thanks everyday but personally, there is no need for me to be over zealous about it because despite all my protestations and declarations, He alone knows the ways of my heart.