I'm Judging You (19 page)

Chauvinism in biblical texts has justified laws that have led to the persistence of subservience of women to men. The Bible actually sanctions women being property, and too many societal norms have been informed and justified by this view. A wife is told to submit to her husband because he's the head of the house, but submission is not blind obedience. People interpret things differently, but the idea of submission as ownership is dangerous. It affects how women get to exercise their own agency in the confines of their marriage. Some women stay in abusive marriages because they are living the submission doctrine, and some have even submitted their lives at the hands of abusive husbands who went one punch too far, or picked up a knife, or a gun.

I definitely struggle with how the Old Testament, especially, represents women as inferior, and I struggle with how we are told that we are still paying for Eve's mistake. The Bible preaches forgiveness, but the way these cramps are set up, somebody up there is still mad at us for Eve. The sexism in the Holy Manual goes long, and it's difficult to be a Christian feminist and grapple with that. Ultimately, we attempt to make ourselves feel better by saying: the Bible is man-written, and as with all things manmade, it's flawed.

Speaking of men being faulty in religion, some of the people we've put in elevated positions to speak with God's authority are liars and cheats. Word on these holy streets is: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” Yet we're playing “follow the leader” behind folks who are guiding us toward all types of dens of iniquity with greed and wealth built using the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Men (and women) of God do not need to be poor, desolate, or without sin to be of service. Preachers, pastors, and prophets aren't perfect. They are regular people who answered the call to spread the gospel, and their position lends them the ears of sinners who want to be saints. It behooves them to be more intentional with their actions and more principled than the average person. Yet we have absurdly named pastors who are asking their congregations to donate and fundraise $65 million in order to get “the church” a new, state-of-the-art private jet so they can comfortably “spread their ministry” around the world.

Are travel agents unable to get you tickets to go wherever you need to, Minister? Maybe Kayak and Expedia are blocked on the church Wi-Fi network. A man of God spending $65 million on a plane better not have
anyone
in his flock struggling to make ends meet. If you are able to make that ask of your people, they better not be people living paycheck to paycheck or wondering where their next meal is coming from. We have pimps on the pulpit preaching pride to impoverished paupers they promised to protect. CAN I GET AN AMEN FOR THAT ALLITERATION?

If the prosperity of megachurches was parallel to the prosperity of the people in the community they were in, there would be less to judge them for. But what is the point of a million-dollar mansion surrounded by shacks? What is the point of a billionaire whose closest friends are destitute?

Far too many pastors are exploiting the very people they should be helping, and all they do is tell them, “This is what Jesus wants. This is His will.” How about NO, with your greedy ass? They are the worst PR reps for Jesus ever. Churching has become a business, and the distrust of it has been well earned.

There are megachurches with hundred-million-dollar budgets, and they are operating as nonprofit organizations, escaping the grubby hands of the IRS by not having to pay taxes. Earning $100 million of revenue in a year?! There are small nations in the world whose gross domestic product isn't that much. One megachurch got robbed on a Sunday and the thief got away with $600,000 in cash from the heist. It was the amount raised during their two services that day, so doing that math, the church might be averaging around $32 million a year in cash donations. That is not counting electronic payments or checks or credit cards, mind you. Thirty-two million dollars, tax-free. If some of these giant churches had to pay taxes, the revenue could reform our public education system, or do some good for the last, the least, and the left-out in our world.

When a place of worship is bringing in that much money, it's hard not to see the supreme hustle behind that. I can understand why people might start a congregation. If I was a less honest person, one who wasn't petrified of eternal damnation, I might do the same. We would have Mary Mary come and sing “Blame It On the Jesus” at the opening, and then Bebe and Cece Winans will be guests on Harvest Sunday, because their love songs for Jesus are everything everyone needs. And the church would be called Holy Rock of Ages Hold My Mule Pentecostal COGIC AME Baptist Community Church. Our ushers would wear the finest in red crushed-velvet robes, with matching gloves. But since I'm trying to stay on Saint Peter's VIP list, I cannot even.

Don't get me wrong. Megachurches in and of themselves are not bad. Maybe you've been blessed to lead thousands of people because you happen to be anointed. But some of these giant churches are built in neighborhoods where most people are living in abject poverty. There are far too few that work toward building up the condition of the very congregation they purport to serve, and far too many wealthy shepherds with starving sheep. That cannot be holy. The road to hell will be littered with the gator shoes of crooked pastors and other “holy” men. They'll get to heaven's gates one day, trying to hit Saint Peter with the “I'm outside, open the door” text, and Saint Peter will be all “New phone. Who dis?”

Religion got more problems than that Team Bad Decisions cousin we all have and remain Facebook friends with because they keep us humble. People are being told to pray their illnesses away, as if medicine (or therapy) couldn't be Jesus's tool to help you get better. People are being told to repress anything sexual about themselves if they aren't married. There are threats of fire and brimstone if you make small mistakes, and they cause people deep psychological scars. Organized religion, practiced fundamentally and literally, is a strong tool of control. So I understand why people do not believe in it or a higher power.

I do not judge atheists for being nonbelievers, because to place trust in some unseeable, untouchable being who is nowhere and everywhere is an intensely personal thing to do. Especially in a world where there is so much suffering. Many of us who have faith struggle with a God who allows so much evil and so many bad things to happen. It makes sense for people to think there isn't a God. The lack of tangible, reproducible proof of the existence of a God or higher power makes it completely understandable. It is your prerogative to think there is no God or ghosts or angels or heaven.

However, some atheists carry a badge of killjoy. Have you ever mentioned God or some higher power in front of an atheist friend and had them basically laugh in your face? Sir. Ma'am. I know you're Captain Cynicism, but just because you can't find joy in the idea of God doesn't mean you should be a perpetual Debbie Downer. You say, “God is good! I woke up this morning,” and they retort with, “Or maybe your heart just kept pumping blood. But okay.”

Can I live? Can I have my good feels? Did you have to be the wet, dank blanket on my life? Fine, I'll go tell someone else my testimony. When you are made to feel like you're an irrational nincompoop for having faith, you realize that extremism one way or another
—
whether it's blind faith or staunch skepticism
—
is counterproductive.

I am not knocking anyone for not believing in anything, but I have to say that it's hard for me to think that the entirety of this world—the plants and animals and just
being
—is random. Atheist, Christian, Muslim, seeking, or not, I do have a firm belief that we are all connected.

When I look up to the stars at night and see them twinkle, I wonder if they were designed by a Master Architect who just wanted to give us something pretty to look at, even through the ugliness of life. When I see a diagram of the atoms that make up our bodies, and they look identical to those very stars, I cannot help but think it connects to how we're all made from the same dust the universe is. When I see a scan of the brain and it resembles a map of the Milky Way, I am moved to believe that it's because everything that exists is also a part of us. Then I want to sing “Kumbaya” and hold hands with everyone … but I'm not sure if they washed their hands. And even though space dust might be in them, so are bacteria. Never mind. Let's connect from afar.

For me, life is easier with the thought that there is some order in all this chaos. I cannot cope with the disasters, tragedies, and heartbreaks that happen every day thinking that it is all some random occurrence with no lesson or purpose or connection to something greater. I cannot get out of bed in the morning not thinking our existence is being dealt with by a force we cannot see. Thinking that there is nothing beyond our flawed, selfish, accident-prone selves would plunge me into depths of despair. My faith is my comfort, and my spirituality connects me with the grand scheme of things. I am but one pin in the cushion of life, but because I am part of everything, I am bigger than I could ever imagine.

I don't believe that faith and reason, including belief in scientific theories, are mutually exclusive. There are major scholars who have said that the more they study the world in all its intricacies, the less they can explain things, and the more they believe in a higher power. This is because science cannot explain many things, try as it may. Science and spirituality do not have to be completely different systems. For example, if the goal of science is to study patterns in systems, and spirituality is a belief in a master architect, couldn't it be possible that the creator designed patterns in nature for you and I to understand creation better? Didn't the three wise men look to the stars for guidance to help them find sweet, newborn, caramel-complected, alabaster six-pound-ten-ounce baby Jesus? That was totally prehistoric Google Maps.

When I am asked why I'm a Christian, I cannot give an answer that will convince anyone else to become one. I am not an evangelist. For me, faith is a lifeline. I think about my life, and I see something has ordered my steps: Someone has made sure I met the right people. Someone has allowed me to prosper in spite of myself. It must be so, because there are too many things I cannot explain. Because in my heart, I know I am a child of God. Because when I am brought to tears about my life, I need someone to glorify. Because I believe that I am a product of God's grace and I hold that love doctrine to heart. Because when I hear music, I feel like it was divinely created. Because when I say a prayer I feel myself at ease in the world. I am a Christian because the idea of someone sacrificing their life for mine makes me swell with pride, and it lets me know that I am worthy. Sometimes I also think really delicious chicken is God's way of saying He hasn't given up on us yet. GLORY, HALLELUJAH.

Also, I believe our very existence is proof that there's something/someone/some things greater than all of us, and different from science, at play. We are walking miracles, and to think it just came together from some Big Bang doesn't curl all the way over for me. Our very existence is against every single odd. For me, a higher power (God) seems to be behind it. There is just too much that we cannot explain.

I honor that power through my Christianity. I believe in the Jewish carpenter who served the poor, saw the humanity in a prostitute, and sacrificed his life so our flawed selves could live. And sometimes, when He was tired of our shenanigans, even flipped a table or two. I am a Christian because I've seen more than I could explain, and it keeps my side-eye for religion as a whole at bay. When I was five years old, in my house coloring on a Sunday morning, someone walked in looking dejected and grief-stricken. Before they spoke up, I was like, “Grandpa died.” I had just seen him a few hours before when he was on his way to church, and there was nothing on earth that should have let me know that. But I knew. Some people call it energy, some people call it God. For me, I feel I've been tapped into the divine since an early age, and it is my choice to carry it with me for the rest of my life.

I do not expect or even try to convince anyone else to be religious or practice any spirituality. Your faith, your choice. Just walk in love and try not to be a hateful shrew and you'd be doing life right. The Bible can be a guide, but you don't need to be able to quote Scripture to be a good Christian. How you live is what really speaks for your faith, more than the words you say. None of what Grandma taught me (and none of what I know is true) said, “Use Jesus as your crutch and savior when you do or say something stupid.” People are so great at being hateful douche-canoes and saying they're doing so on behalf of Christ. Religion is supposed to be a user's guide to good living, but good people don't need a Good Book to know they shouldn't be intergalactic imbeciles. And terrible people just like to use it as justification for their awful ways.

And yet with all the glory and wonder that God and a faith community can bring, we stay invoking the name of the Lord for our couthless behavior, and that ain't right. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John didn't evangelize just for us to be out here using God as a Get Out of Jail Free card. I know Jesus paid for our sins, but they didn't break Wonderbread at the Last Supper so we can be lying on Him like this. The part that slays me slowly is when people do a terrible thing and then they say, “Only God can judge me.” NAH! I can too. Folks are good for hitting you with the “He who has no sins, let him/her cast the first stone” line. NOPE. I'm throwing a proverbial rock at your head, because your messiness should be called out. Every entity needs checks and balances, and people are outchea running amok in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. I'm Christian, and my side-eye to many religious institutions doesn't make me any less faithful. All shepherds shouldn't be followed blindly by their sheep. A sinner is just a saint who fell down, right? Well, some of us sinners fall down, stay there, and then use God as the reason why we wallow on the floor. No, ma'ams and sirs.