Christianity Unraveled

November 10th, 2019

I still do not know what I am feeling at this moment. It took all I had to not cry during worship at church today, and I am confused as to why I needed to cry that entire time. Perhaps it is an acclimation of things.

I suppose the thing that I was expecting the most – complete backlash and disownment from friends and the church – hasn't happened. And I don't understand that as well. Why do people seem to still love and accept me? Why do I seem to be met with acceptance, grace, and love? I expect people to always rebuttle everything I say and exclude me from their lives, but instead I am met with listening and not debate and am met with more inclusion than I thought was possible. And it seems to me a mismatch between expectation and reality.

And though I need it and deeply appreciate it, I hate it at the same time because they're not doing what they're supposed to be doing and I don't understand! They're supposed to fight me on my thoughts, they're supposed to tell me that there isn't space for me at all or for my questions and doubts. And yet, I am met with the opposite reaction. It's unreasonable, it seems, for this to be true.

I want to hate. I want to be bitter. I want to be angry. And I want others to feel this frustration with me. I want to scream, and to cry, and to stop . . .

And yet, I am unable to. I am unable to do all this, though I feel it deeply, because I am met with patience and kindness and sincerity each time I try.

I was broken up in thought by a person whose name is Justin. And dear Justin, if you ever read this, I thank you for taking your time to speak with a stranger.

Justin told me that he is 95% Atheist and 5% Christian. We talked about our deconstruction journeys and our lives a little. And in this space, he told me that he thinks that I am in a good place, though admittedly it does not feel that way. But perhaps what was needed most for me was how I was provided a space to say the words I needed to, the words that haunt my thoughts and my journals and never to the space in spoken language.

"Are you a Christian, then?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out."

I think that is the most important question I was asked today. That, and the realization that wherever I end up, all I want is to make certain that I am that kind stranger as well. And yet, I don't want the reason for the kindness to be from God – I want it to be due to kindness being an intrinsic part of myself. I want to be kind because I am genuinely kind and not because I am told to.

But how does one become genuinely kind? Perhaps it is through constant empathy and through seeing each person as an extension of myself and asking what I would want someone to do or say to me. And more than that, perhaps kindness is doing this all reflexively without feeling the need to hold back.

And perhaps, perhaps reflexive giving doesn't require someone asking. Perhaps it is more than only giving to those who ask, but also giving to those who need and want but cannot ask.

The kindness of strangers

teach me time and time again

that often what we receive

is never what we expect,

and that strangers aren't real –

they're just people we've not met.