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acquiredtasteSometimes I feel so disconnected from the body of Christ, the Body in general, the Bride over all, as in what the heck is with you people? Social media attacks again, something I know distorts and perverts everything. Than there is the blogging world, many valuable and lovely Christians leaning into His word, but then there are the others so harsh, so condemning, so judgmental, so….hateful.

Grace all but forgotten….

It’s really been the hardest thing about blogging for me, not the atheists, not the trolls, not the critics, but peeking into the psyche of the body of Christ and recoiling in horror. Some people try to comfort me, those aren’t “real Christians,” as if I can just somehow click my heels together and pretend I’m not in Kansas anymore.

It’s harsh isn’t it, condemning, judgemental of me, looking at this tattered, broken, half-drunken, slovenly Bride, and thinking “really Lord? Really, the gates of hell shall not prevail against it?” The gates of hell sometimes seem to be pouring forth from within it.

Those who think I am way off base here are not on the receiving end of the daily curses, the “go back to your Father the devil you perverted Jezebel, you heretic, you rebellious proponent of bad theology, deceitful, deceptive, liberal…” Daily curses. I should put them all in my Rave Reviews like I do the others, but I just can’t, they break my heart. They make me despair for all of mankind, they make me scream in frustration, what have we done to your church, Lord? How have we managed to so mangle your message, even to miss the message entirely?

What can I do Lord, how can I fix it? There is so little time…

Cultural Christianity, Christ as a brand, an ideology, a political team composed only of the winners, tribalistic, ostracizing, as if the goal is to cast out all the losers, to separate the goats from the sheep, the wheat from the tares, on God’s behalf, because obviously He can’t do it Himself, so He needs our help. Bullies, bullies, I tell ya.

My truth offends people I’m sure, and some will say I shouldn’t say it, that I must praise the winning team no matter what, that the enemy is the other side, all those atheists out there, the politically wrong, the sinners, those not like us. The undesirables. Preserve the unity, keep it in the family, pretend you just don’t see this giant elephant sitting right in the middle of the living room. This giant elephant that threatens to sit on me, over and over and over again.

Do I sound angry? I am, impatient, intolerant, grieved that there are so many, this tidal wave of self-righteous condemnation that often threatens to engulf me and sweep me out to sea.

It wasn’t the death of Prince or Starbucks coffee cups or our failure to use the King James bible, or some half crazed girl-blogger trapped in the 9th circuit of hell that sent Jesus Christ to the cross, it was us, our collective voices mocking Him, our voices calling out among the scoffers. We were never on the “right team,” there are none righteous, not one, we were the ones who sent Him to the cross, we were the mockers carelessly casting lots for His clothing.

Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,
Call out among the scoffers….

That is my voice, out there among the scoffers. Oh, but can I ever boast in the Lord, knowing full well,
“For it is not he who commends himself that is approved, but he whom the Lord commends.
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