More human than human

My previous spiritual path (New Thought/Religious Science/Unity) was light on Jesus — an attribute I quite liked.

See, like so many of us, I used to equate Christianity with the Pat Robertson variety. As a kid, I remember flipping past (yes, past) the 700 Club trying to find cartoons. This American mainstream fundamentalist Evangelical Christian phenomenon had to do with being white, male, clean, judgmental, righteous, race-driven, tidy, ‘pure’ (in public), and — to cut to the true sentimentality of the matter — boring, mediocre, and prudish.

This sect of Christianity found it important to be good at NOT doing things: Not cussing, not drinking, not listening to rap music, not hanging out with people who aren’t straight or white, and essentially not being human.

I’m happy to have fairly recently come upon the notion that Christianity is not a behaviorist ideology. It’s not really even a belief system. Sure, a change in behavior/belief may be a byproduct of Christianity, but from what I’m seeing, it’s not the main point.

Having your shit together in a socially acceptable way is not a prerequisite to Christianity. Christianity — at its core — directly addresses and walks into the blood, bone, messiness, dirt, and ambiguity of the human condition.

It’s about the ever-present cycle of death and resurrection on micro and macro levels of life that we encounter all day, every day.

Jesus never said that God will only love us if we’re part of the upstanding, mediocre, mainstream, well-behaved, wealthy, healthy Roman (insert whatever tribe happens to be in charge at the moment here) establishment. In fact, he seemed to hold the stance that these types were often the least ready for his message.

Jesus always went away and hung out among the sinners, the sick, the heartbroken, the marginalized, and the needy at the fringes.

Side Note: He also sat with tax collectors, which were the equivalent of today’s hated Wall Street types; more on this on an upcoming post, though —so stay tuned.

Christianity — at its core — directly addresses and walks into the blood, bone, messiness, dirt, and ambiguity of the human condition.

It’s in the hearts of sinners — those who realize their human fragility — where he found the people who are thirsty for the grace of God. It’s they, who’ve suffered greatly. It’s they, who’ve loved deeply.

When we’re on our knees with nothing left... 
When we look into a newborn’s eyes…

These are the moments when we can finally surrender our brilliant ideas about life, lay down our capacity to hurt others for our own tribal/personal gain, and accept and put into action a love from something… greater.

This is where grace can take root. Not in a McMansion at the good side of town where the stock market plays the part of god. Because grace never really tastes good.

Grace isn’t something you spoon feed yourself after your chia seeds and hemp supplements.

Grace is a profound love from the divine that’s thrust onto us even though we don’t believe we’re worthy.

When we hit the lows of life — or when we experience profound, unconditional/nonsensical love — that’s where this God finds us. Yes, this God is always coming to us wanting to be known. She follows us into our deepest, darkest depths, grabs us by the shoulders, and — through the smallest opening in our consciousness of faith — loves us.

Grace isn’t something you spoon feed yourself after your chia seeds and hemp supplements.

Jesus straight-up goes there. He comes to us. He walks in the mud with humanity. He never spiritualized things away from a pulpit. He grabbed the soiled hands and looked directly into the eyes of leapers, tax collectors, prostitutes, and beggars and told them, plainly and directly, you are a beloved child of God.

Yes, it’s true.

I’m finding this God endlessly endearing at this point in my life.

[embed]https://upscri.be/90caa9/[/embed]