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During my church years, I heard countless sermons about God, but far fewer about Jesus. Mostly, when Jesus was mentioned in a sermon, it was because the pastor was talking about the cross. How ridiculous is it that even though I’ve spent my life in denominations that claim Jesus as Savior, I didn’t know all that much about Jesus?
Of course, I knew about his birth and the miracles and the cross. But it wasn’t until I began reading and researching on my own that I began to learn anything deeper about Jesus. I learned He was funny, sometimes sarcastic. He was patient. He was tender. He got angry. He was, to my surprise, human . . . with emotions.
God, on the other hand, in my early years, was shoved down my throat almost every Sunday to the point that I had an unhealthy fear of Him. I learned about an angry, vengeful God who didn’t like me all that much. In fact, He just kind of tolerated me and my pitiful inability to overcome sin. Over the more recent years, He was presented as a sort of parole officer: I wasn’t under 24/7 scrutiny, but He was checking up on me from time to time, making sure I was doing my duty as a Christian and not breaking any rules.
Turns out, I feel like Jesus is a friend. God? Not so much.
God, Jesus, Holy Spirit — they’re all one, so it’s just semantics, right?
Yet I have opposing views of them: Jesus, defender and lover of sinners. God, punisher and hater of sinners. And Holy Spirit? Well, he (it?) was rarely mentioned in my church experiences, so that’s a whole other convoluted mess for me.
It’s a strange predicament some of us find ourselves in — loving Jesus and hating God.
My last pastor used to say, “The most important thing about you is your concept of God.” If that’s true, I’m not sure what my concept of Him says about me. Maybe it’s the reason I feel I can’t do enough to please anyone. Or that no matter how much I want to be loved, I’ll never be good enough. Or that I feel I’m a nuisance to be tolerated.
Jesus, however, makes me feel like I have a defender, an advocate, a friend — someone who would draw a line in the sand and stand on my side. I think Jesus would rather wash me clean than focus on my grime, and he wouldn’t be afraid to get his hands dirty doing it. I think — I hope — Jesus would entertain my questions, and answer me with intriguing stories.
When religious beliefs have been the core of your entire existence, and suddenly, that core is warped with opposing concepts, middle ground ceases to exist. Is it crazy to have such opposing concepts of God and Jesus, considering they are one? Probably. And I think there are far too many of us riding the crazy train. There are many of us who grew up in fundamentalism, who then found grace, but can’t seem to let go of those insidious core beliefs.
I wish I had answers . . . some resolve. I wish it were as simple as letting go, but I know that’s easier said than done. I wish reading the Bible and praying would work like magic. I wish . . .
“There are many of us who grew up in fundamentalism, who then found grace, but can’t seem to let go of those insidious core beliefs.” <—-story of my life right there…
Glad to know I’m in good company! 😉
This is truth right here.
I feel I experienced a lot of the same. God hated me, Jesus was just some guy who died for me even though I totally suck and God hates me, and the Holy Spirit was only given if I repented of my sins, was baptized and then spoke in tongues.
Loved this post.
Thanks so much, Liz! It’s such encouragement when others understand.
I definitely understand the tendency to extremes. It wasn’t all that long ago that I found myself deeply struggling against the doctrine of the church I was very heavily involved, but it started when I felt like I couldn’t ask the simplest of questions, and that grew into something that ran so much deeper. It’s sad to me that so many churches are unintentionally doing the exact opposite of what they feel they’re doing – they’re driving people away with extreme’s, ‘knowing’, and judgement of others who struggle against that and ask questions. When I finally left my church I lost my best friend and her whole family who’d I’d grown close to, simply because I left. It really shook me, and the doctrine I’d been taught had become so deeply engrained that I felt I truly had to throw it all out in order to regain my footing. Now, about 5 years later, I live in a place of uncertainty – and it’s become my friend. I feel my relationship with God has grown so much deeper in my questions, in my throwing away of someone else’s regurgitated ideas. It’s so refreshing to find more and more people who are willing to admit their struggles and uncertainty. This quote came to mind – faith is the opposite of certainty, where there is certainty there can be no faith. I’m not sure who said it, but it absolutely resonates with me. Thank you for bravely sharing your story and insight.
Yes, that’s exactly why I left church. My questions were very unwelcome. Ah, I don’t know if I have any faith left, but I sure know I’m not certain about anything anymore! Thanks so much for the encouragement!
This breaks my heart!!! I remember the first time I was prophesied over and he said “God is not disappointed with you, you are not disrupting him, he welcomes you into his presence like a daddy welcomes his favorite child.” As a (former) daddy’s girl this had me doubled over in some good healing tears. Since those moments I know what it’s like to feel like I can not draw near to God like that… but I was so wrong. I hate where you are at, but I have so much hope for you that this will just be one chapter of your story. That in the winter, hidden season God will work underground strengthening your roots, readjusting things as you lay it all down so you can only pick up the pieces you want to keep.