Christians

"I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." This quote, commonly (but not definitively) attributed to Mahatma Gandhi, often reflects my own sentiments. I am often confronted with words spoken and behaviors exhibited Christians that fly in the face of what I understand about the heart of Jesus Christ. My pain increases when I think about what all those who do not know Jesus might now think of him. Its a unique feeling of awkward discomfort-- I classify it as an "I-want-to-hide-under-a-rock-for-a-hundred-years-or-until-this-goes-away" emotion. The representation of un-Christlike Christians in the media is so pervasive that I hesitate to identify myself as a Christian; not as much that I don't want to identify with Christ as much as I don't want to be identified with people who would do or say such awful things.

I was reading a book this afternoon called "Good News About Injustice" by Gary Haugen, the founder of International Justice Mission. There's a a section that talks about the history of justice work in the United States, and how much of it was fueled by the evangelical church. It told the stories of Dr. Kate Bushnell, Reverend Edgar Gardner Murphy, and  Jessie Daniel Ames, three Christians who played a major role in abolishing forced prostitution, child labor, and mob lynching in the United States. It was their belief in Christ gave them the conviction and the determination to risk their own health to stand up against a system that attacked what they understood about the heart of Jesus.

These three are far from being the only Christians who have done this. There are hundreds of similar stories about Christians, Protestants and Catholics alike, who have chosen to live out the love of Christ for humanity at risk to their own lives. William Wilberforce, Mother Teresa, Donaldina Cameron, Martin Luther King, Jr., are just a couple more prominent names. Then there's the untold scores of men and women who have lived out their lives demonstrating the love of Jesus for their families, friends, strangers, and communities yet whose service has never been recognized by the Church at large. 

As I read this chapter, I realized that as many incredibly silly people who call themselves Christians as there are (and to be honest, I'm probably one of them more often than I care to admit), there are so many more that use their lives to paint beautiful pictures of what it means to embody the Jesus's love for a hurting world. This thought greatly reduces my level of cynicism. Gary Haugen writes that "... the biblical mandate to seek justice and rescue the oppressed is an integral and magnificent theme of the Christian heritage." Far from being averse to the label "Christian," I should be excited about the history from which I come and eager to join the millions of others who share a belief in a God who cares enough and is powerful enough to do something about injustice in this world. I hope to live my life in a way that blatantly demonstrates the love of Christ for all people.