The God I Fell In Love With : Engaging Society Through Empathy
Llewelyn Muriel Austria-del Rosario
July 09, 2006
I am hanging on to Christianity by the skin of my teeth. Christianity has used and abused me. He has wounded me and heaped guilt on me for being in pain. In my despair I wept. It was there, in that deep, dark, long night of my soul that the God I fell in love with, met me again. He only had this to say—“My darling, I am not the God of Christianity!”
Deeply troubled, I pondered on the voice so loud and clear. “What do You mean?” I cried out. But there was no answer, nothing to break the stillness of the night except the echo of my own voice. So I sat and waited. Like acts in a play, scenes from my life flashed before me … I saw myself with a ghost of my past. Christianity came alongside me and said—“Do not yoke yourself equally with an unbeliever.”
But the God who was wooing me then did not condemn me for my relationship. He did not pressure me to let it go before I was ready to. When I did, He sat down and wept with me over my grief for the loss. Christianity, while handing me tissue, gave me a pat in the back and said blithely—“Forget about that guy. Don’t cry. God has great plans for you! And in the meantime, remember—drinking, dancing and discos are bad for you! It’s sinful!”
I turned to God and He just shrugged His shoulders and said—“What do you think?” To which I replied,“The Bible is silent on those topics!” God succinctly added, “Precisely. I leave it to you to discern what you should and shouldn’t do regarding that. That is a matter between you and Me.”
And so I floundered along trying to live life as best as I could and wound up eventually meeting the man that got both God and Christianity really excited. “We don’t make them better than this,” God and Christianity chorused! Impetuously, I pouted and said—“Yes, I agree. But he wants to be a missionary!
I live a life of comfort and ease! I love my wine, gowns and galas too much.” Christianity told me—“You should obey God! You were made to love God and worship Him forever.” I broke down and cried—“You know I love God more than anyone and anything. But I don’t think I can thrive!” My sobbing and hunger strike ceased when God’s comforting whisper came—“My darling, trust Me, I’ll take care of both of you and I promise, he’s going to tickle you pink!”
So off I went and married. Happy and sad at the same time. Christianity chided me for my ambivalence and said sternly, “Of course your life’s not going to be the same now that you’re a missionary!” Christianity would have gone on if God’s sweet and gentle voice did not interrupt his diatribe with a simple reassurance to me—“I understand your pain and difficulties; your comfort matters to Me and I will do something about it in the fullness of time.”
My foray into missionary life and working with Christianity turned out to be a lot worst than my nightmares. I didn’t anticipate that I would come face to face with the reality of what Scott Peck said when he wrote words to the effect that—“The anatomy of evil is deceit. The most evil people are in church.”
But surely,” I reasoned to myself, “God’s people will not stand for this! After all it is said that the ‘only thing necessary for evil to prosper is for a good man to do nothing!!!’” To my shock and dismay at the one point in my life when I needed Christianity to speak, Christianity was silent.
In the midst of all the unethical practices, wrong teaching perpetuated and the injustice leveled at me, Christianity had nothing to say except—“Calm down, there are always two sides to an issue, you’re being overly critical. Let’s just pray about this. In ministry, we cannot really force people to change. Even the early church was persecuted. God is Sovereign.” But the God I fell in love with said with sorrow and fury—“I am the God of order, discipline and excellence. I am righteous and holy. I am the God of justice. Vengeance is Mine, I will repay.“
On and on it went, the threads that wove the tapestry of my life flashed before me. Again and again, the sharp contrast between what Christianity said and what God spoke to my soul was drawn. Suddenly, the fullness of what God revealed earlier that night came upon me.
For several years, I slowly felt joy and vitality drain out of me. My life force was dimming and I did not understand why. Until now. Christianity has robbed me of the fullness of my glorious experience of God!
When we Christians speak when we should be silent, when we offer pat answers when we should weep with compassion, when we spout off easy platitudes when we should rise up in righteous rage over evil and injustice, when we are silent when we should speak, when we as Christians forget that while we are not of this world, we are still in the world, when we do not fully and meaningfully engage our world, we cease to be Godly, but we remain Christians.
And so today, as the new year looms ahead, I drive my stake on the ground. If this is Christianity, I want no part of it.
I shake off the yoke of religion that I may be free to pursue a passionate relationship with the God that I am in love with.
Deeply troubled, I pondered on the voice so loud and clear. “What do You mean?” I cried out. But there was no answer, nothing to break the stillness of the night except the echo of my own voice. So I sat and waited. Like acts in a play, scenes from my life flashed before me … I saw myself with a ghost of my past. Christianity came alongside me and said—“Do not yoke yourself equally with an unbeliever.”
But the God who was wooing me then did not condemn me for my relationship. He did not pressure me to let it go before I was ready to. When I did, He sat down and wept with me over my grief for the loss. Christianity, while handing me tissue, gave me a pat in the back and said blithely—“Forget about that guy. Don’t cry. God has great plans for you! And in the meantime, remember—drinking, dancing and discos are bad for you! It’s sinful!”
I turned to God and He just shrugged His shoulders and said—“What do you think?” To which I replied,“The Bible is silent on those topics!” God succinctly added, “Precisely. I leave it to you to discern what you should and shouldn’t do regarding that. That is a matter between you and Me.”
And so I floundered along trying to live life as best as I could and wound up eventually meeting the man that got both God and Christianity really excited. “We don’t make them better than this,” God and Christianity chorused! Impetuously, I pouted and said—“Yes, I agree. But he wants to be a missionary!
I live a life of comfort and ease! I love my wine, gowns and galas too much.” Christianity told me—“You should obey God! You were made to love God and worship Him forever.” I broke down and cried—“You know I love God more than anyone and anything. But I don’t think I can thrive!” My sobbing and hunger strike ceased when God’s comforting whisper came—“My darling, trust Me, I’ll take care of both of you and I promise, he’s going to tickle you pink!”
So off I went and married. Happy and sad at the same time. Christianity chided me for my ambivalence and said sternly, “Of course your life’s not going to be the same now that you’re a missionary!” Christianity would have gone on if God’s sweet and gentle voice did not interrupt his diatribe with a simple reassurance to me—“I understand your pain and difficulties; your comfort matters to Me and I will do something about it in the fullness of time.”
My foray into missionary life and working with Christianity turned out to be a lot worst than my nightmares. I didn’t anticipate that I would come face to face with the reality of what Scott Peck said when he wrote words to the effect that—“The anatomy of evil is deceit. The most evil people are in church.”
But surely,” I reasoned to myself, “God’s people will not stand for this! After all it is said that the ‘only thing necessary for evil to prosper is for a good man to do nothing!!!’” To my shock and dismay at the one point in my life when I needed Christianity to speak, Christianity was silent.
In the midst of all the unethical practices, wrong teaching perpetuated and the injustice leveled at me, Christianity had nothing to say except—“Calm down, there are always two sides to an issue, you’re being overly critical. Let’s just pray about this. In ministry, we cannot really force people to change. Even the early church was persecuted. God is Sovereign.” But the God I fell in love with said with sorrow and fury—“I am the God of order, discipline and excellence. I am righteous and holy. I am the God of justice. Vengeance is Mine, I will repay.“
On and on it went, the threads that wove the tapestry of my life flashed before me. Again and again, the sharp contrast between what Christianity said and what God spoke to my soul was drawn. Suddenly, the fullness of what God revealed earlier that night came upon me.
For several years, I slowly felt joy and vitality drain out of me. My life force was dimming and I did not understand why. Until now. Christianity has robbed me of the fullness of my glorious experience of God!
When we Christians speak when we should be silent, when we offer pat answers when we should weep with compassion, when we spout off easy platitudes when we should rise up in righteous rage over evil and injustice, when we are silent when we should speak, when we as Christians forget that while we are not of this world, we are still in the world, when we do not fully and meaningfully engage our world, we cease to be Godly, but we remain Christians.
And so today, as the new year looms ahead, I drive my stake on the ground. If this is Christianity, I want no part of it.
I shake off the yoke of religion that I may be free to pursue a passionate relationship with the God that I am in love with.