Mercy

I watched "The Breakfast Club" for the first time recently. I was not quite sure if I liked it or not until I finished it and sat on it for a while, and then decided that i did.
I thought it would make a great group question to ask, "which character would have you been in high school? The basketcase, jock, dweeb, beauty queen or criminal? I immediately jumped for the basketcase. But when i got honest with myself I realized i was closer to the dweeb. Thinking upon it further I realized that the jock wasn't far off the mark either. Even the beauty queen and criminal had elements that i related to. I realized that that was the point of the movie. As it says at the end,

"we realized that we were not really that different. Inside of each one of us there was a Basketcase, a Dweeb, a Jock, a Beauty Queen, and a Criminal."

I don't mind telling you that a month ago I was in a pit of depression and doubting my faith. I felt like the bible and Christian faith were not adding up. God seemed distant and I realized just how invisible He was.
Funny thing about faith; you can't really prove it any more than you can disprove it. If you're getting caught on this statement you are thinking too hard. Forget I said it if it helps. I'm saying that it is not usually logic that makes people accept their faith, and I do not think it is usually logic that makes people walk away either.
When everything felt at the brink of breaking for me it was missing one final ingredient and it was not reason. It was relationship. Like it was probably a relationship that brought you to faith, it was the need for a broken relationship I felt i needed to walk away. God did not need to betray me. The church would do. If a solid christian in my life misunderstood me right now then I would have all the justification I would need to walk away from the faith.

This wasn't going to happen. Despite doubt, disillusionment and depression, I didn't have despair yet. I certainly did not have a church who would betray me. I knew them too well. They are wonderful people, the Christians who support me. The thing that makes them wonderful is not their lofty unshakable convictions either. Nope. Its their honesty, venerability. It makes them approachable. If I tell them that I'm drowning, they won't cut me loose. They will put on a life jacket and jump in with me, letting me hold onto them until i stop hyperventilating. They are not too "holy" to touch me and they are not too high up to reach.

Looking back on this situation, though my clothes are still wet from it, I realize a good thing that came from it. I believe I've grown in mercy and compassion.

As a teenager I led a youth Bible study/discussion group. Because of the informal nature of the meeting, it often attracted the kind of people who had trouble breathing inside a church.
Although I was not a perfect leader, I like to think (and hope) that I got one thing right. I remained approachable and venerable. I was a kid, I did not know all the answers and i did not pretend to. If friends lived their lives in contradiction to my moral set or did not agree with my beliefs, I like to think that i focused on who they were rather than drawing a line between the two of us based on contrasting moral convictions.

I'm glad I didn't make you-me distinctions, especially in hindsight. This difficult time I've gone through has made me grow in empathy, sympathy, compassion, understanding and admiration for the likes of doubters, depressives, intellectuals, artists, spiritual seekers, self-proclaimed agnostics, people of other faiths, addicts and users.

Because I think I was open, and accepting of who people were, I can still look these friends in the eye if i cross them on the street or in a coffee shop to this day. Neither of us drew lines or closed a door. They seem to respect the way I live my life and my faith, maybe partially because I respected who they were. Therefore, the conversation is ongoing.

I remember the scene in John 8 (which I recognize is a contested part of John, but I'm going to pass by that right now. Its not enough to make me write it off.) In the scene Jesus confronts the scene of a woman caught in adultery. Jesus says to the scribes and Pharisees, "Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her." (ESV)
Then, one by one, they leave until it is only Jesus and the woman left. Jesus, who Christians hold to have been the only man without sin, is therefore the only one justified to throw a stone. But He says, "Neither do I condemn you".
You better believe that it was mercy and not condemnation or a high moral code that made her "go, and from now on sin no more."

What is it that those outside the Christian faith see, our convictions or our mercy?

It seems that the people who Jesus had the least tolerance for were the Pharisees. the Pharisees were the ones with a high moral order. In fact, their disciplines were so high that they might be historically argued to have preserved the Judaistic faith, traditions and scriptures.
However, it is the pharisees who Jesus accuses- the ones who were technically the most sinless.
I love that we see Jesus act mercifully toward a Pharisee when he comes to Jesus to check his notes. It is in John 3, which is careful to point out that the Pharisee comes to Jesus "by night".
By Night. I bet you that this Pharisee's "gospel truth" was shaking, and that he was scared. He wasn't sure enough about this Jesus to let people see him going to talk to him maybe. But under the cover of darkness, he could disclose openly his questions. I like that Jesus meets him at this level. He doesn't come down on him for acting stealthily. Instead he goes ahead and explains and answers questions- even if they sometimes only seem to lead to more questions.

I understand why Christians speak above their level of knowledge and grasp for pat answers and rock solid doctrine. I understand. Coming face to face with hard questions and leaving them unanswered at the end of the day is scary and uncomfortable.
Fear is a dangerous motivator though. I read recently that the most repeated command in the Bible is to not be afraid. Do not worry, do not be anxious, do not be afraid, do not be terrified; the Bible is full of such sentiment.

Imagine if the members of "The Breakfast Club" held onto their fear and never opened up to each other. They would never have become venerable, shared, and in the end, liberated. There is something about truth that sets us free. But something about fear that binds us.

I'm not sure what would have happened if we threw a "born and raised Christian" into the mix with the Breakfast Club.

I imagine that He'd be the most afraid of opening up. Especially about his faith, because he wouldn't be able to stand under the fire of questions that would be inevitably thrown at him. He's only a teen. His own confidence might slip! Would he be open about the f***ed up part of his own life? Or would he be afraid that he would "betray his wittiness" by looking as if he were living beneath his own moral standards or faith ideal? If anyone else opens up about their garbage, however, he can't help but think, "sinner". He can't help thinking this because its how he runs his own life. He is a sinner when he sins and better than everyone else when he doesn't. This is how he justifies himself.
Everyone would despise him. Not because he is being the least like Christ, but because he's a closed door. If his disposition doesn't reek of judgement, than it certainly is drawing a line between him and everyone else. "If he's so much better than everyone else then he probably doesn't want to touch us lepers" the criminal would say. So in the end they would put him in the closet and lock the door. Everyone would be glad.
But what if he is better than everyone else! Let his convictions speak!
No. Let mercy speak.

Let compassion speak. Let truth speak. Let the Holy spirit have a clear, unbound, and fearless vessel through which to set free and speak life.

In Luke 6 Jesus says that,
"the Most High... is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful"

And he continues,
"Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you." (ESV)

One of our moral convictions as Christians is mercy itself.

In John 4 Jesus meets a Samaritan woman with a confused belief system and a messed up life. Jesus points out her moral shortcomings, but it is not as to condemn her. He had already passed the social barrier of speaking to a woman, and the social barrier of friendliness to a Samaritan. It was as if he was pointing out that he was willing to jump over the barrier of her sin as well. He shows her mercy.

Fear not only keeps us from our own healing and letting the Holy Spirit use us, but it draws lines between us and others when it means we are not willing to cross the barriers to get to who someone is (and show them Christ's mercy.)
This is exactly what the Pharisees were not doing (exactly what we as "Church-going Christians" have a danger of not doing). Maybe, like the Pharisees, we are afraid of breaking a rule, getting our hands dirty, touching the leper. Afraid. I understand. We need to remember that mercy should be front line in our arsenal of convictions. Remembering also that we have been shown great great mercy. Remembering where we came from. If we aren't motivated by this, then maybe we have to check ourselves. Have we received healing mercy in our own lives? Is our lives about how good we are or about how good God is to us? If we let God's mercy reign, we are justified. Free to be fearless in The Breakfast Club.

Because honestly,in me there is a basketcase, a jock, a dweeb, a beauty queen, a criminal.... and Jesus.