Since I was a little girl, I’ve always loved reading. The way an author could weave words together to create a world my mind could escape to was always fascinating, and as I got older, words became even more meaningful. I learned that the purpose of vocabulary wasn’t just to know a lot of words for the sake of knowing them. The purpose was communication; to have the tools necessary to be able to say exactly what I was thinking or feeling at a given moment. As such, I try to be very intentional about saying what I mean and meaning what I say….and that is why I could no longer continue calling myself a “Christian.”
A label is “a descriptive or identifying word or phrase,” and the purpose of any kind of label is generally to provide additional information about the person or thing it is being used to describe. A lot of people don’t like being “labeled”, and I get that. Labels can be restrictive and even inaccurate if applied incorrectly. However, I do think they’re useful when they’re used correctly because an accurate label can tell you a lot about a person without them having to say much at all. And I think, in the context of spirituality, calling yourself something is supposed to do just that: give context about who you are and what you believe in. So what exactly is a “Christian” and why isn’t that an accurate reflection of my beliefs?
A Christian is “a person who has received Christian baptism or is a believer in Christianity.” I think this particular definition is important, because I think people like to classify themselves as “real Christians” based on a very broad conception of what it means to be a “follower of Christ.” However, what “following Christ” actually looks like in practice depends on who you ask, and I think we need to be more intentional about defining how much of “Christianity” is actually a reflection of Jesus.
Christianity is “the religion derived from Jesus Christ, based on the Bible as sacred scripture, and professed by Eastern, Roman Catholic, and Protestant bodies.” Christianity is the largest religion in the world with over 2.4 billion adherents worldwide. There are 30,000 different groups, branches, or denominations that fall under the banner of “Christianity”, and more than 1,200 in the United States alone. 30,000 groups of people reading the same book, examining the same beliefs, and coming to very distinct conclusions about what it all means. Most, if not all, of those groups teach that they have a monopoly on “the truth” and anything that conflicts with “the truth” is inherently false. That in itself was reason enough to make me stop and think for a second, because using such a broad umbrella to describe the beliefs of that many people is bound to create some confusion.
Further, I don’t think enough attention is given to the second half of the definition. I think a lot of people stop at “the religion derived from Jesus Christ” and don’t necessarily understand how much of what is “derived” from Jesus Christ gets filtered through the Bible as professed by Eastern, Roman Catholic, and Protestant bodies. Now, don’t get me wrong. Most people who read any kind of “holy text” just do the best they can to understand what someone who lived thousands of years ago was trying to communicate. That isn’t the problem. The problem is taking something that was originally communicated by an imperfect human being, translated multiple times by multiple imperfect human beings over a period of time spanning hundreds of years, interpreted by multiple imperfect human beings, millions (if not billions) of whom cannot reach any remote sort of consensus on what’s actually being communicated, and then calling any of of those interpretations “absolute truth” as it pertains to a supposedly infinite God. Even if all of that boils down to some basic belief in Jesus’ role as the Son of Man and His blood as atonement for sin, how that belief ultimately translates to the life one lives and the way one treats the people they encounter, particularly people who don’t identify as “Christian,” often presents a stark contrast to the Spirit of the Man that person is supposed to be representing.
Let’s just be honest for a second, okay? If “just” believing in Jesus was really enough (John 3:16-17, anyone?), why is there a need for tens of thousands of different denominations and doctrines? Why isn’t it enough to just say “I’m a Christian” as a full expression of your beliefs? Or, if calling yourself a Christian only communicates that you believe in Jesus, why do so many people feel the need to follow up a statement of “I’m a Christian” with a long list of things they don’t agree with or subscribe to? If being a Christian were really just about Jesus, wouldn’t the teachings, the culture, and its standing in the world reflect that?
A popular argument I encounter often (and one that absolutely drives me crazy) is that people are imperfect and any group of people coming together is going to have its flaws, which is true. However, you cannot have it both ways. You cannot believe in a theology that hinges on reaching a state of spiritual perfection and then blame your humanity for your group’s inability to achieve said perfection, especially as you put your “truth” on a pedestal over those who don’t aspire to the same standards you do. You cannot say “God is all-powerful,” “God can do anything,” or “God is not the author of confusion” and then argue that God is “still in control” of mediocre institutions that often cause more harm and damage than they do good. You cannot say “nobody is perfect” when someone tries to hold you accountable for your shortcomings as people fill your pews (or watch your services online) week in and week out just to hear how terrible they are and that they haven’t “overcome” yet because their faith isn’t strong enough. You can’t tell people to have a “real” relationship with God just to dictate what that relationship and the fruits of that relationship are supposed to look like. You can’t scare people into submission to what you believe is the truth by insinuating in any way, shape, form or fashion that disconnecting from toxic, dysfunctional people automatically means disconnecting from God. You cannot center yourself as a victim when people who have been marginalized, abused, and left spiritually destitute by your institutions aren’t interested in hearing your version of the gospel. You can’t call that “Jesus” when what you’re reaping isn’t something He would have sown.
You might be thinking, “So what’s the answer? If Christianity is so bad, what are people supposed to do?”, but that’s not a question I can answer for you. I don’t believe you can call yourself a “Christian” and separate a pure belief in Jesus and His sacrifice from the harm Christianity has caused and continues to cause so many throughout the world, but that’s me. I cannot call myself something that isn’t a truly accurate reflection of what I believe and the God that I worship. Personally, I just did the work to find a label that did accurately communicate what I believe. I’m a Christocentric Agapist, which means that I believe that love is the highest moral imperative and that my belief in love is centered around my belief in Jesus…and only that. There are no boxes I have to fit into. There is no long list of doctrines I have to adhere to. I can ask as many questions as I want and I don’t have to limit myself to one perspective in my pursuit of the answers. I can say, “I don’t know” if I don’t find the answers right away, or if I don’t find them at all. I can say, “I don’t think I need to change this,” or “I know this is a problem but I’m not ready to change it” without feeling like I have to stay away from my spiritual community until I’m ready to live my life on their terms. I don’t have to worry about whether I’m doing everything “right” or who is going to judge me if I do something “wrong.” My beliefs aren’t reflected in the clothes I wear, the day I worship on, the kind of food I eat, or the doctrines I claim. My beliefs are reflected in how I try to treat the people I encounter on a day-to-day basis, the kind of person I try to be, and the peace I have within. I’m not perfect, but it is a keen awareness of just how flawed I am that allows me to have compassion for the imperfect people I can relate to and that allows me to pray that God gives me compassion for the imperfect people I struggle to have compassion for.
I do not believe in a theology that hinges on a state of spiritual perfection. I believe in a theology that teaches that Jesus lived a perfect life to pay the penalty for sin so that I could live a life of gratitude, compassion, empathy, and security in the fact that I am loved wholly and completely by an infinite, all-powerful, all-knowing God who has not only began a good work in me, but will see it to its completion. On God’s terms. In God’s time. All I have to do is let God be God.