Random Musing

I was diagnosed with High Functioning Autism / Aspergers Syndrome a few years ago after events in my life guided me to seek professional insight into some of my own strengths and weaknesses.
And while I'll readily admit there are rough days due to some of the alleged weaknesses associated with Autism, I don't view myself as suffering.
Sure, some days my sensory issues are so bad I can't handle listening to music and driving at the same time. There are days when I can't handle the chatter of a crowd of people and have to avoid social situations where my differing abilities aren't accepted. (Though if I'm in a crowd where it's known and accepted I may shutdown, I'll happily hangout.)
 But I don't view that as suffering. Because while bright lights and certain noises can be unbearable, I also notice lights and sounds and other details of the world that most people would miss.  I catch subtle differences in things that bring out a level of beauty in my environment others usually miss. That beauty makes me smile, and I thank God for the gift he's given me, the ability to see the world through eyes most people don't experience, and through ears most people will never hear with.
And while I might not be thinking such positive thoughts when the tunnel vision sets in, when my sensory world starts to shutdown because my brain has had too much, it's still a marvel to me later. I get to experience life so abundantly that it shuts my mortal body down. Think about that. Scripture says if we could see God's glory, if we saw heaven in all of its wonder, it would kill us. I can only imagine.
If in this life, living in the Shadowlands this side of heaven, majesty of everyday life can make my body tune out, how much more splendid must eternity be? 
I'm thankful for the life experience I've been blessed with.
No, as cliche as it may be, my biggest struggles are when people treat me as less than a person; when people treat me as broken instead of merely different. My biggest issues have been when people speak and interact with me as if I'm somehow less rational than they are, when they try to hold me back from trying to experience life because I might shutdown, or when they disrespect me because I've chosen to take it easy rather than socialize so I can handle necessary things in life such as my job, which puts food on the table and keeps a roof over my head. My biggest problems are when people criticize, shun, and disrespect me for not approaching life the way their controlling opinion of how I should be living dictates. If I'm keeping a roof over my head, food on my table, and am otherwise happy, you've no place telling me I'm living life wrong.

It's Dead, Jim

"When we Christians behave badly, or fail to behave well, we are making Christianity unbelievable to the outside world." - C.S. Lewis

I loathe this quote. Because it's all too real; too true. I'm really done with church. Or at least, I'm done with the social club that we call church. I have been for a long time, I guess. I just was too chicken to say it. 

Not that I despise fellowshipping with other believers. I enjoy that. I don't like hanging out with people who'll say, "I'm praying for you," on Sunday, but when you want to reach out to them on Tuesday from the depths of depression, you really can't trust them to be there. And if you dare to point that out to them, it's your fault not theirs. It's your lack of faith and you just need to pray harder. It's always turned back on you. Nobody takes responsibility for dropping the ball.

I'm done with that sort of Christianity. I'm done with those people. I'm done with fake. I'm done with those buildings called churches that only serve to give me a feel good rush on Sunday, gospel centered preaching or not, but the body of believers doesn't fellowship outside structured church activities. 

I'm done with a model of family that enables this sort of culture. I'm done with a culture that keeps itself so busy doing things as a "family" unit, that it drops friends that are single by the wayside. I'm done with a culture that accepts that as okay.

Why? Because I have friends that don't go to church. I have friends that don't believe in God, or at least not the God preached from the pulpit, but they find time to be there for me when I'm down. They do this despite having busy families of their own. They do this despite working full time. They do it despite all the things the Christians friends serve up as reasons for not having time to build relationships. But somehow, they find the strength and the time to do what the Christians can't. They rise up on eagle's wings to do what Christians are telling me is impossible. These people that the church would label as bad influences, as publicans and sinners, are a more consistent support than any church going friend I've ever known. 

I've heard the parable of the prodigal son. How he left home and made a lot of fake friends that were there for him until the money ran out. These friends aren't those kind of people. These friends I'm speaking of aren't there for money. I'm broke as hell, but they'll still listen when I'm down, and I do the same for them. I see more Jesus in these people than I ever see in church.

Christianity is supposed to change you. It's supposed to be something powerful, radical, transforming. But the Christ preached from the pulpit can't even make a "hey Josh, we should hang out sometime," follow-through and build that relationship and trust that's necessary for those desperate, needing-someone-to-talk-to conversations to happen. I see more faithfulness from my cat than I do from those people. 

"When we Christians behave badly, or fail to behave well, we are making Christianity unbelievable to the outside world." 

So maybe, just maybe, the Christ preached in those pulpits isn't as real as the carefully crafted doctrine and theologies they recite would claim. Maybe, just maybe, the people who are showing me Christ, despite their lack of obeisance to Christianity, are more real. Sure, they don't do all the "right things." They watch those heathen shows like Game of Thrones, or indulge in a few too many beers, but they are there. They might have language that's too salty for Sunday school, but when they say "I know I'm a sinner, I'm not perfect," they mean it. It's not some platitude that they really don't believe, just recite because it's the proper catechism. 

Maybe all this talk of church being a hospital for sinners, not a haven for saints is just that, talk. Maybe the reason Christ was known for being the friend of publicans and sinners is because he knew where the real people were. The people that would live out love if shown mercy, kindness, and love. 

I really don't care what's right, if I'm honest. Not anymore. I just care who's going to be there for me when I need a friend. Not the people who are going to tell me to go talk to an intangible, invisible being and hope I find comfort in that rather than the God-made desire for tangible human empathy and companionship.

I want to be around the people who will put a real, tangible, arm around me and help me hold on when life doesn't feel worth living. Not people who brush me off, trivialize my struggle, and tell me to pray harder. 

And I really can't see a God who made me to want that kind of fellowship and friendship expecting his people to do any less than come alongside and meet that need. 

Mamma used to sing a song when I was growing up. "They'll know we are Christians by our love." There ain't a lot of love in the Bible belt. There ain't a lot of love in the churches back in Virginia where I grew up. There's a lot of love at Mikey's house on Friday nights. There's a lot of love sitting on the floor in the middle of eight cats with a bottle of catnip. There's a lot of love in a friend that'll message me out of the blue on Sunday night just to check on me. There's a lot of love in a friend that'll do lunch with me whenever he can.

But there isn't a lot of love in the congregations I once knew. 

Show me your faith by your works. Because right now, the works of people who've forsaken church are more real than all the sermons I've ever heard.