I can see why some would not want to be a Christian, and I totally understand what Gandhi meant when he said, “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”
I believe Gandhi had a good point, and I am choosing to focus on it lately. Unfortunately, I tend to focus on the negative when I am being attacked, repetitively, due to my own thoughts, circumstances, experiences and the things that I choose to dwell upon. Since the passing of my father and the final fallout with my mother, I have been digging up and facing some deep-seated emotions. There is nothing I can say to really express the bitterness and resentment, the pain and sadness, the empty feeling, stemming from the things that I cannot change or go back in time and change, and the fed-up feelings I have towards the disparaging, relentless people who I call my brothers and sisters.
“Brothers and sisters?” I have to wonder if I would even want blood brothers and / or sisters. If they were anything like some of the brothers and sisters in Christ, I would probably avoid them.
You know, I would bet everything I own on Jesus being the total opposite of some of the “brothers and sisters” that I’ve encountered recently and throughout the years, as well as the one that I once was. I’d bet He would have a great conversation with Gandhi.
I was a self-proclaimed master of belittlement. Don’t get me wrong, that is something that I valued in my former life. It is not something that I intentionally enjoy anymore. When I was separated from Christ, like many will claim that I am now while writing this, I enjoyed beating people with sarcasm, making them feel like crap and laughing directly in their faces as I would follow-up by saying, “I’m just joking!” Although, I would then turn around and laugh at their stupidity. I really didn’t care. The thing is, I do care now. I care deeply for others. I care about the things that people tend to do that tears others to shreds. My observation has been so disturbing lately as I’ve seen His supposed people writing, talking, giving sermons and witnessing in His name. Christians, far from the Christ that I know and obviously Gandhi also knew.
I wish that Jesus were here so I could sit with Him, and He would just look into my eyes and see the pain within. He could see the hurt and comfort me with His very presence. He could wipe away the tears that fall. I could run to Him, instead of being beaten to a pulp by my awesome brothers and sisters with their Bible thumps and finger points. Telling me that my sin is somehow worse than theirs. “Teaching” me a valuable lesson in their buildings made of gold and their institutions that are robbing the blind of truth and their finances. Showing the sheep how to follow men instead of God. I could run to the One who became flesh and told us to, “Go, and sin no more.” I could run to Jesus, and He would instantly know what ails me, what condition my heart is in, within my fallen flesh. He would know what I’m desperately battling, day in and day out. He could tell me that, “It is okay, my son.” He would direct His eyes to His sacrifice for my sins, and comfort me with the knowing that I will one day be with Him, eternally. He would calm these emotions. He would get me away from this world that tends to take its own pain out on everyone else. Those who would rather walk with the world, or the Pharisee.
Praise God for the few with the understanding of Christ and Gandhi alike.