As long as I can remember, church has been a part of my life, from my mother’s womb (so churchy, I know-LOL), I have been surrounded and steeped in the Black church.
And I loved it. The friends, the lessons, the warmth. The after service dinners and second service repass. Vacation Bible School during the summers and Sunday morning school with the snacks. I loved the kids choir and our annual Easter/Christmas plays. I loved it all and I have fond memories but somewhere along the way, I became disenchanted.
It started slowly when I really began to read the Bible for myself and learn the original translations, much of what I thought I knew as “Bible” as the saints say, was nothing more than doctrine.
And then I struggled. I struggled with my sexuality and being a 20 year old woman who just couldn’t stop sinning and having sex. I couldn’t stop going out and partying, living my best young adult life, and I couldn’t escape the condemnation I felt on Sunday and how I just needed to be holy and pure in God’s eyes. I couldn’t reconcile the rhetoric of the church where almost everything and every feeling is a sin. The constant threat of hell and it all became so arduous. Would I ever make it in?
I really tried. I followed Heather Lindsey and all the women in her purity movement. I committed myself to purity and giving up worldly things, and being the chaste, Godly woman so that God could reward me with a Godly husband, except all the church guys I dated where the worst.
So I stopped and I just started praying. I wrote my heart’s desires on sticky notes and pasted them to my wall. All my prayers for myself, family, friends, and issues in the world. I opened myself up to learning about different religions and stopped seeing people through Christian lenses instead as seeing them as people.
And I slowly started to let all of it go. I didn’t care about someone’s faults or sins, I stopped caring about who others sleep with or their gender. I stopped requiring the world to hold on to my square box of beliefs and standards. I embraced people for who they are and what they are and I learned that the same grace God has given them to figure it out, He has given to me.
Do I still struggle with the indoctrination of church still? Absolutely. But I remind myself that I don’t know and I don’t have all the answers, and what I do know, is I’m still learning. And so I give others the grace I want to receive and treat them how I would treat myself. After all the two greatest commandments are 1) to love God with all your heart and 2) to love your neighbor as yourself. Matthew 22:36-40
I’ve been doing a lot of contemplating recently, and one of the biggest revelations has been that I have been tailoring my social media presence to people who are not my audience. I’ve been afraid to say certain things or post certain things because I’ve been afraid of being judged as “unworthy” or too flawed. I’ve been afraid of the sentiment being “You have a church, so how can you be doing x,y, and z?” But that’s a flawed way of thinking, for a number of reasons.
1. I live my life in alignment with my beliefs. I am very intentional about that. And the truth is that my beliefs do not fully coincide with those of Adventists, nor those of mainstream Christians. Further, I do not identify as either, because I believe both are irredeemably flawed and, to be perfectly clear, I do not believe that either entity is “the truth,” nor do I believe either entity has a monopoly on truth. I am an Agapist. A Christocentric Agapist, but an Agapist just the same. As such, I can’t be held to a standard that I don’t agree with, don’t believe in, and refuse to hold myself to because I genuinely and firmly believe that it facilitates an inaccurate and damaging depiction of the character of God.
2. I can’t preach unconditional love and acceptance while maintaining an unrealistic portrayal of my life. I can’t tell someone else to “be who you are” while simultaneously being afraid to publicly own ALL of who I am, especially when I am not ashamed of me. In fact, I’m really proud of the growth I’ve achieved thus far and the person I am continuing to become. I like me, and that’s something I have fought long and hard for.
3. I am aware that I am probably not “qualified” by many people’s standards to do what I’m doing, but I believe I’ve been called to it because I can’t be anything other than what I am. Life literally isn’t worth living to me if it means spending even one more second trying to fit myself into other people’s boxes. I have tried. My entire life, I have tried. And I’ve finally come to accept the fact that I can’t. That acceptance has opened my eyes to the fact that there are plenty of people out there who have had a similar experience and have ultimately opted to just be alone spiritually rather than compromise their liberty of conscience and liberty of thought for the sake of community. But those people…my people…need community, too.
4. Church as it stands isn’t designed for people who don’t “fit”. It’s not meant to accommodate people who want the benefit of community without the pressure to conform. So many people feel like you’re being disingenuous if you say you believe something and then don’t adhere to its tenets, and in a lot of ways, that’s not entirely untrue. If being a Christian means living my life like ________, and I don’t believe in that, am I really a Christian? And if I’m not, is that such a bad thing? I would call myself a Christian if doing so meant that the only thing anyone assumed about me was that I believed that Jesus is the Son of God and that He died to be the propitiation for sin itself. But realistically, saying you’re a Christian comes with a ton of other premises that MUST be relied on, otherwise your spirituality gets called into question, i.e. “How can you say you’re a Christian if you ________?”
The establishments that currently exist can only change or evolve so much before they become something they are not. And I realized some time ago that there’s no amount of change that could occur that would ultimately make room for me and all the other people that organized religion has either pushed to the fringes or excluded completely. So many of us wanted to belong, but even after the church began to say “come as you are,” it added, “once you get here, you’re supposed to change, and this is what your journey should look like, your questions should look like, your conclusions should look like….this is what you will look like. And if you don’t, something is seriously wrong.” There’s an underlying acceptance of certain fundamental “truths” that you are required to internalize and you literally cannot belong the the community if you don’t accept them. Some may call that “godly”. Some may call that “accountability.” Some may call that “the truth.” Personally, I call it presumptive, limiting, and unreflective of the God I have come to know and love. I want community that doesn’t require me to limit who God can be for me, doesn’t ask me to draw the same conclusions as everyone else, and gives me room to journey on God’s terms, not anyone else’s.
5. I’m not perfect, but I don’t think I’m supposed to be. I think that’s the point of real transparency…it’s the only way God’s strength can truly be made perfect in my weakness. If I’m too afraid to own that, how can I inspire anyone else to own it for themselves? How can I tell people that God is with them when they aren’t struggling, when they’re not wrestling, when they don’t feel the need to “repent,” when they’re asking questions other people don’t have answers for and drawing conclusions that other people condemn….and then be unwilling to transparent about how God does that for me every day? I know and believe in the depths of my heart that I am loved unconditionally and I know that because that love has been tested….tried with fire….and it hasn’t failed me yet. People think that they have to believe a certain way or live a certain way to experience God’s presence fully and I’m here to say that that simply isn’t true. Nothing can separate me from God’s love and my experience has been that God will always give as much of the Spirit as I am open to receiving. It’s in my darkest moments that God has shown up for me in the most profound ways and if God has done that for me, I have no doubt it can be done for you, too.
All of that being said, I am committed to doing my best to be more vulnerable and to live transparently. My target audience isn’t the people who think they have the truth. My target audience is anyone who is seeking truth, those who believe that truth-seeking is the journey of a lifetime. My goal is to be a part of a community that prioritizes love in a way that heals rather than does harm. And I just want to be myself. I want others to know that they really can be who they are and not be treated differently because of it. I don’t care who you are or what you believe. Boundaries are drawn based on how we treat each other. Do your best not to do harm. If you mess up (as we all inevitably do), acknowledge it, take responsibility for it, and try to do better moving forward, understanding that the love doesn’t change and grace is sufficient.
My hope and prayer is that we can all find freedom in the journey, and thus a greater sense of compassion, patience, kindness, self-awareness and acceptance, personal accountability, and unconditional love. -ky<3
If there is one thing I know, it’s church. My mother was a choir director when my brothers and I were very young. Consequently, we got an extra dose of church due to choir or praise team practice. Late into Friday night, we would sit on those hard pews as the choir worked out the selections for Saturday’s service.
I knew, like all the youth, every crack and crevice of that old church. I knew every exit, every closet and every stairwell. There was no room that I had not thoroughly explored. During those years, it was a vast magical world. Magical because every so often strange things would happen.
I’ve observed the ushers in white collect the morning’s tithes and offerings while the congregation sang “You Can’t Beat God’s Giving”. So often the choir sang until screams rang out in the sanctuary. The spirit caused folk to rock side to side and lift their hands. And when they couldn’t take it anymore, they would wail. They would wail and they could not be comforted. An usher would have to lead them out of the sanctuary until the spirit turned them loose.
I’ve seen the sanctuary filled with white smoke when there was no fire. I was taught that it was the Shekinah. It meant the presence of God had filled the sanctuary. I’ve watched with fascination as the preacher preached himself into a fit. He seemed to strain underneath the weight of delivering the word of God. I recall Pastor Penn, a deep baritone, would sing his favorite song before every sermon. James Cleveland’s, “I Don’t Feel No Ways Tired”. Bellowing,
During my final two years of high school, I lived with my grandparents in Buffalo, NY. Life had become extremely complex overnight. I was faced with all the dangers and obstacles that most inner-city youth are faced with; drugs, violence, crime, sex, etc. I was trying to find myself in the midst of it all.
One night, I prayed to God and asked him to reveal himself. I told him that if He didn’t, I would live my life on my terms. I didn’t set any parameters. I only asked that it be undeniable. I needed to know God was real.
A few hours later, around 5 am, someone called the house phone, which lay directly beside my Grandmother. She answered the phone, at first concerned, and then irritated when the caller asked for me.
“Robert. Robert! It’s for you!” my Grandmother yelled with so much disagreeableness that I swore I would slap whatever fool thought it was a good idea to call the house phone this early. Everyone knows you don’t just call the house phone all willy nilly. “Hello.”
“What do you want?” The caller asked in such an agitated tone you would have thought I’d woken him from his sleep.
“What? Who is this? You…you called me.” I responded confused and groggy.
“Its Paul. What. Do. You. Want?” He replied with increasing annoyance.
“Bruh.” I had to pause and collect myself. I wasn’t known for my patience or gentleness in those days. “Bruh.Yoooouuuuu called ME. What do YOU want???”
“Robert. What do you want?!?!”
“What in the world is…”
“Robert, God has been bothering me about you all week. He would not let me sleep until I called you. I have to work in a few hours. WHAT. DO. YOU. WANT???”
I felt the world shrink in that moment. I had communicated with the spirit or my conscience my entire life. “Robert, don’t do that.” “Robert, you should apologize.” “Robert, don’t say that.” I very rarely headed that voice. It was as if, in frustration, the voice stepped out of my head and spoke through someone else. It is very strange to hear the prayers you prayed in your bedroom answered through a man in another city. I felt very small and I’ve never really felt alone again.
Paul was my Mom’s friend. He was in that choir that I was telling you about. That morning, Paul and I had our first of many conversations. He prayed with me and he went to sleep. I spent the rest of the morning trying to wrap my mind around what had happened.
I don’t attend church much nowadays. I have my reasons. Reasons I know are valid. But that’s a story for another time. I’m like an Old Testament prophet. I only show up in church to teach and rebuke. I’m only slightly joking.
Anyway, for the past few years my relationship with God has existed primarily in the place we found each other. I’ve developed a rich and complex relationship with the God of the Universe, The Most High God, within the four walls where I lay my head at night. Our relationship is lit. And though he is called by many names, He never did tell me his. So I call him the Bedroom God. He doesn’t seem to mind.
That’s where my allegiance lies. That’s who I worship. That’s my truth. All praises due to the Bedroom God.
By the way, my name’s Robert. But call me Rob. I look forward to meeting you! We’ll talk more soon.
Robert Allen Bailey hails from Western NY and holds a BA in Theology from Oakwood University and two Masters degrees (Social Work and M.S. in Community and International Development) from Andrews University. He now serves as a Therapist at Beach Stone Counseling and the Urban League. He is also the founder and lead facilitator of 19E Training and Development. Robert stakes his hope and his work in the spirit of David when he said, “I would have fainted if I did not believe I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”
“Upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of Hades will not overpower it” -Yeshua (Jesus), Matthew 16:18b
I admit, the implication of the above quote was lost on me for a long time. It’s a segment of a conversation between Jesus and his rambunctious disciple Peter. It’s sandwiched right between Peter’s victory moment of correctly identifying out loud that Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah (vs.16), only to lose sight of that in the next few moments and be rebuked with a stern “get behind me Satan!” (vs.23). These high drama moments would grab my attention, and if I did read the bridge between them, I would then be lost in trying to prove that the “rock” the church is built upon is not Peter himself, but his confession of the nature of Christ (vs. 17-18). With all this, I stumbled past the simple truth that would radically shift my faith walk and send me on a completely new path.
You see, being raised a believer, I spent much of my life with an “us against them” mentality when it came to matters of faith. I had internalized the idea that Christians are under attack on all sides, so I should greatly fear being compromised, deceived, or defeated. Because of this, I would only feel safe amongst other completely like-minded believers, and I put high importance on not being tarnished by the world; seeking to avoid it at all and every cost. I went through phases of being terrified by secular music or television, demonic activity that could be found in party environments, or even playing Pokemon cards.
Anything outside of a western Christian perspective was dangerous and potentially deadly, and anything popular must be the result of a deep-seated and demonic conspiracy. In all honesty, as an older teen maintaining this level of vigilance and fear within my faith became exhausting and deeply discouraging. It felt that God had abandoned us to a world of constant attack, and the penalty of a slight stumble or fall would be total annihilation. The power of Satan felt insurmountable and the path to redemption felt almost impossible. The mindset of keeping one’s head down and muscling through to the end of this life thing while keeping your fingers crossed that you would earn heaven became my MO. Little did I know that THIS was the deception; this whole concept was a trap that robbed me of life abundant.
While pursuing a degree in theology, I began to actually read the teachings and stories in the Bible, and at the encouragement of some phenomenal teachers, I did so without the baggage of any particular perspective. Instead, I allowed the world and motivations of the writing to speak for itself. To my surprise, I did not see the terrifying world I had imagined when listening to various sermons over the years, but instead a gospel so sweet that it defied the mind. I saw a God so loving and passionate that the title of Father was not only fitting but natural and an astounding standard to inspire awe and to be revered. It was at this time that I re-encountered the above text and became floored by it’s simple and readily apparent meaning: When the Messiah depicts the nature of the church, the community of believers, they are not playing defense, but OFFENSE. Not against other people, but against the power of the enemy itself.
Nobody carries a set of gates into battle to do war, but erects them outside a territory as protection. The imagery Jesus pulls from does not display the church as setting up gates of defense to hide behind for escape but showcases that hell itself is seeking protection from US. We are not saved through a test of endurance to be challenged by the world and reach some quota of righteousness by the end, but are birthed into a Kingdom that empowers us to storm the enemy camp on a mission of rescue. We are not the defeated, we are the conquerors. We don’t fear the darkness, for we are the light. The goal is to be immersed and spread amongst the world, not to run from it. To engage humanity and bring light to the fallen, to the hurting, to those trapped in darkness and death. Not with just a message, or recruitment to a side, but with LOVE. Spoken, yes, but also lived out through compassion and justice. The gates of darkness will not overpower us, so how can we fear?
I put away my defensive weapons of judgment and fear. I picked up understanding, compassion, and empathy. I began to see others as people just like me. Who hurt, and were afraid, clinging to their own version of “us against them”. Now that I had tasted reconciliation and peace, I only sought to share it and set my fellow prisoners free.
THIS is the church. This is what it is to believe. We have tasted, and seen. We now showcase and share in love. Hell doesn’t stand a chance.
Jason Francis is a single father of three who has a passion for young people and showcasing the gospel to the unchurched. He is the leader of Kinetic (iamkinetic.org), an independent ministry dedicated to inspiring every believer to recognize and unleash their God-given potential to transform the world. Jason longs to see the birth of a new and simple church that is relevant and accessible to the average person of this generation.
Hello, my name is David Baxter. I was born in 1956 to an interracial couple in the City of Detroit, MI. Growing up amidst the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements while having a Caucasian woman as my mother made my adolescent years extremely challenging. It became clear to me that being fully accepted into the society I lived in was never going to happen. Even excelling athletically (I was the 61st player selected in the 1978 NBA Draft) could not get me over the hump. After a brief professional career, I retired and used drugs and alcohol to mask the pain caused by years of rejection.
In 1984, a high school friend shared his faith in Christ with me and after a few Bible studies, I became a Christian, too, and I was baptized. That suppressed my pain for a while and I served faithfully in my church for 30 years, only to reach a place where I discovered that I had more questions than the church’s teachings had answers. My faith gave way to doubt and my uncertainty in God’s love for me led me to choose the path of the prodigal son, and I ended up going to a proverbial “far country.”
While I was in the “pig pen” expecting God’s wrath to come in whatever form, even illness or death, I waited…and waited…and it was there that I actually discovered His mercy. Whether I stayed in the “miry clay” or returned to “my Father’s house”, He revealed to me that His love has no conditions. That revelation freed me, and I chose to return to my amazing wife and children. My family also embraced me for who I was, a flawed human being. Their capacity to forgive me and love me through my healing as they were going through their own healing processes helped me to see in them something I’d never seen before: the love of God with no conditions.
I now have a newfound hope and renewed purpose and I can say, like God’s servant Job in Job 42:5, “I have heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eyes see you.” Thank you, Father. Thank you, Renée. I love you.
Hi. My name is Kara. I was raised to be a Christian, but about 10 years ago, I made the decision to embark on a journey of spiritual and self-discovery. I started questioning the things I’d been conditioned to believe and I started learning to look at the world beyond what I’d been able to see through my own rose-tinted lenses. However, the more I grew, the less I fit in….anywhere, really. I knew there were people who were asking the same questions I was asking and who were on similar journeys, but I was never able to find an established religion or group or label that didn’t try to box me in. I didn’t want a millennial-friendly, repackaged version of the same things I’d been told my whole life, either. I had valid questions and real-life problems I was dealing with, but I couldn’t find a place where I was free to believe and grow as I saw fit and where I could actually do more than just talk about the pain and suffering in the world. I always hoped that one day I could create a space for people like me to be free, and it’s honestly crazy that my dream is becoming a reality.
The One Rule Church is a movement rooted in the belief that unconditional love is the highest moral imperative, and that imperative transcends time, culture, and religion. In other words, this isn’t your normal “church.” We call ourselves a “church” because we are a spiritual community, and we think it’s important to reclaim that word from all of the negative things it has come to mean for so many. For us, the difference is that we don’t pretend to have it all together. We don’t have one set belief system that everyone has to conform to. We don’t have a bunch of rules that everyone has to follow. We don’t believe that any one person or group has “the truth.” We’re just a group of people who are trying to make sense of the world and our places in it. We know we’re no better or “more enlightened” than anyone else and that we need to surround ourselves with people who are different from us because that is the only way we can continue to challenge ourselves to grow and become better. We believe that love, in its purest form, can be revolutionary.
Unconditional love is transformative. It brings healing to so much of the pain life has caused all of us, and healing those wounds allows us to view each other more clearly. Being able to see our humanity reflected in the next person despite our differences helps to dispell the fears associated with those we formerly couldn’t understand. And then love calls each of us to the highest level of personal accountability. It’s not about trying to change other people or looking to other people to confirm or deny what our responsibilities to each other are. It’s about each of us choosing to be the change we want to see in the world around us and setting the standard for ourselves rather than merely falling in line with what someone else has decided is “good”. It’s easy to believe that our responsibility on this planet begins and ends with not doing the “wrong” things. It’s harder to learn to live with the awareness that being your “brother’s keeper” means doing what’s actually best for someone else rather than getting caught up in our own presumptive opinions and agendas.
But don’t get me wrong lol I can’t paint a “picture perfect image” of myself and I have no desire to. I don’t always love the way I know I’m supposed to and some people may look at my life and say it’s too flawed to be starting something like this. I’ve only been married for about 2 months, but I have a son who is almost 14 months old (you do the math lol). I lived with my husband before we got married. I dress how I feel and it’s not always “modest” lol I like to go out with my friends when I can and I don’t always say the right things and I’m super sensitive and you know what? I’m not ashamed of any of it. It’s me. It’s real. It’s my life and I’m beyond proud of the person I am today and of the fact that I’m even still here because that means I didn’t give up, even on the days I wasn’t sure I could keep going. And if you’re reading this, I’m proud of you, too, because it means that you haven’t given up, either. It means I have the opportunity to tell you that you matter and you’re good enough and you deserve to be loved unconditionally because we’re all imperfect. We all mess up. None of us do everything right and you don’t have to be more than what you are to be seen and cared for. And I’m not just saying that because it sounds good. I’m saying it because I get it. I needed someone to say it to me. And that’s why it means so much for me to be present and give that to as many people as I can.
So that’s me. That’s why I’m doing this. I’m here because I need it as much as anyone else might need it and I’m just hoping that all the love-minded people can band together, support each other, and share our hearts with whoever needs that. If that’s not for you, no hard feelings lol I still love you. But if it is for you, I’m excited to move forward together in making love the solution 🙂
