Losing my Religion

I love someone I have only seen through the fullness of fragrant peonies, the milky warmth of sunrises, fire blazing sunsets, and through brilliant sparkles precisely hung in the depths of darkness begging me to count beyond my ability. I’ve seen Him in the mighty tree laded mountains towering over variegated grasses slow dancing in the whispers of the afternoon breeze. I’ve seen Him in the silvery ripples playing hide and seek in clear babbling streams that yearn for my feet to share in its joy by kicking and splashing relentlessly. I see Him in the complexity of science as well as in the simple innocence of laugher. I’ve felt His presence and heard His voice throughout my entire life, through all seasons, as He graciously and continuously fulfills His promises of provision, protection, guidance, and unconditional, sacrificial love for me. My world oozes God. I cannot, cannot get enough of Him. The love I have for Him supersedes any other love I have ever known.  This love keeps me going back for more. It fulfills. It sustains me like nothing else in the entire world. It speaks to me, ministers to me, teaches me, guides me, and loves me as I am.  

In life, we know this is a rare and precious love.  Most people would say that it doesn’t exist; perhaps that we are living in a dream world. And if, by chance, people allow us to believe in such a love, they say, “It won’t last, that it’s only a matter of time before we slip up, fail, and lose this love.” The world is filled with skeptics, people who have been hurt and struggle to trust, people who are blinded to what is right before their eyes. Some are romantics however, and encourage, “It is better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all”; believing that to love is a risk.

Christians, we want to believe, are different; that once we discover this love, it becomes a part of us---our identity—and we never fear losing something so entirely precious based on our actions. But the truth is, many of us have the same fears. And more than a few of us live life knowing we’re entirely unworthy of such unconditional, sacrificial, authentic love that we try to earn it. We bend over backwards, living through a set of self-imposed rules and restrictions in hopes that we, through our own feeble actions/abilities, can refine ourselves into a state of near perfection which God will look our way and say, “Well now, here’s one worthy of my love.”

Attempting to control our spirituality, our refinement process in hopes to earn this kind of love, (it’s called Agape love btw) is crazy at best. Many Christians know this and yet easily fall into a works-driven “faith”; believing they can work for their salvation, which essentially is God’s gracious love for us. I believe the reason this performance or work driven cycle continues to sneak its way into our lives is because the world works this way. “If I do this, then blank happens.” We see time and time again that when we work for something, we are rewarded with appreciation, a paycheck, self pride, etc.  We’re conditioned to perform from young ages. Parents give praise for good grades, for placing well in a sports event, even being a good friend and we learn that if I do my part and do it well, I earn affection. (Side note: I absolutely believe parents should praise their children for their efforts and accomplishments, but not only in performance areas. Praising their character trumps performance any day and helps children understand they are loved and valued for who they are---as they are---not what they do).

Perhaps this works-driven faith, or what I have always referred to as “religion”, happens because we have not fully grasped or accepted that God’s love is free, that He is not of the world, so He doesn’t respond like the world. This popular ploy of Satan’s also causes us to focus on ourselves and performance rather than having our eyes fixed on Christ and what He has already done for us while we were still sinners.  Perhaps we missed the part where God promises that He will finish what He begins in us. Meaning, He is taking responsibility for us and our growth. When we try to control the outcome, we are in actuality showing how little faith we have in God and inadvertently elevate ourselves above God. Faith is not about works. It’s not about performance. It’s not about rules and restrictions. It’s not even about us.

Richard Rohr, author of Naked Now (2009), writes about faith as “being united with Christ”.  Although I know religious works keep us at arms’ length from a God we claim to love, I have to admit that I haven’t thought about what it means to be in union with Christ.  When the subject of faith comes up, my mind is quick to go to Hebrews 11:1, “Faith is being sure of what we hope for through things unseen”. Though true, this scripture personally leaves me clamoring for more answers, for a greater definition, for something deeper, meatier.  It always has, ever since I memorized it at the ripe age of nine. At that age, I dismissed it, thinking I just didn’t have the maturity to understand such complex matters. Here I am a whole lot older and I still struggle to understand. So I read on, trying to grasp a better understanding of this “unity in Christ” concept. I’ll confess, I have heard this terminology many times before, even sing about it on a regular basis. However, I have not really taken it to heart, thought more introspectively about it as a way to better understand my faith. Rather, I’ve always thought of God as being beyond me, not out of reach, but not so close that He literally dwells within me. It’s a bit too abstract even for this imaginative girl!

As I write this, I find I am consumed with a precious memory of when I was four years old and shyly and yet so intently asked my Daddy to help me ask Jesus into my heart. With my mom and dad in my bedroom, I prayed a simple prayer, admitting that I was a sinner, that I believed that God sent his Son Jesus to die on the cross for my sins and then rose from the dead three days later to prove He was indeed God. I remember hoping as I asked Jesus into my heart, that He would accept my invitation. My parents assured me that He did!  I wish at four, I realized that Jesus was literally taking up residence in my life, not just figuratively. Children don’t get so wrapped up in the complexity or abstract nature of faith. They simply believe. I know now that I was the one accepting God’s invitation, not the other way around!

First up, “God’s love has been (as in already) poured out onto us” Romans 5:5.

OK, so clearly God is all in. He’s invested. He’s given everything. Got it. From this scripture, it sounds like to be unified; I have to be the one to take the next step.

“Believe in the Lord and you will be saved” Acts 16:31.

That’s it? Simply believe? For many, I think this is where the rub lies. It is hard to believe in something we cannot see, don’t give credit to experiencing, etc.  (People who struggle with faith or God live by their own merit, for their own merit). OK, so I believe. Moving on.

“The Spirit is with you and in you” John 14:17.

(Though comforting to me, it may sound a litter poltergeist-ish to others).  He is with me always, to the end of time. He will never leave me, He will never forsake me, and He loves me as far as the east is from the west and forgives me just as much.  He is my all in all. He is my foundation. He is my hope.

Rohr reminds us that “hope and union are the same thing and that real hope has nothing to do with mental certitudes” (Rohr, 16). Meaning, that our union in Christ has nothing to do with the ways of this world, the mental games we play with ourselves in attempts to gain His acceptance, appreciation, and love. No, simply we are united because God chose us and we chose Him back. No strings attached. This union is a mutual choosing of one another. Simply, it’s relationship.

Hope is actively being fulfilled through an inconceivably precious union in and with Christ! Sitting with that statement, I find myself in awe of the realization that Christ has been within me and I in Him all along.  I never grasped that, never appreciated the significance of such sacrifice for the almighty God to inhabit this lowly soul. I am not my own. I am His beloved bride and His thoughts about me outnumber the grains of sand. The palms of His hands bare my name. At the risk of trivializing this beautiful union: we run life together as a three legged race, like two peas in a pod, like peanut butter and jelly.  He is not without me and I am not without Him. My heart quickens at the thought and I am humbly brought to my knees both in thanksgiving and in utter adoration for my God!

Faith is relishing in the truth that we are no longer separated from Him.

Sadly, and maybe like a lot of well-meaning Christ followers, I’ve made faith more of a religion than a relationship at times. I am giving up following the “shoulds”. I am giving up the self-imposed rules I’ve prided myself on. I’m giving up trying to appease others by morphing myself to fit what I perceive they want/expect of me as a Christian. I am giving up bending over backwards to earn a love I already have. Instead, I will rest confidently in Christ and allow Him to do the rest.

“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” 2 Cor. 4:18