One Time, I Thought I Was a Christian
One time I thought I was a Christian because I enjoyed going to “big church” more than children’s church. The swaying, speaking in tongues, and passing out were all entertaining. I enjoyed it, and I liked being there. The more services I attended, the more I could predict the services’ ebbs and flows. This is where I learned about people. Or so I thought.
One time I thought I was a Christian because our pastor inspired me. I enjoyed watching him deliver sermons with enthusiasm that enthralled the congregation. I wanted to demand the attention of large communities like his. I drew an illustration capturing one Sunday night service and gave it to our pastor with an encouraging message. I know it was more than once, but I remember this one. This is where I learned leadership, or so I thought.
One time I thought I was a Christian because four other friends (Dietrich, Joe, Carlton, Rodrick) and I formed a singing boys’ praise group called “The Boys in Praise” (we only learned of this name when Rodrick told our pastor after our first and only performance ministerial service). Rodrick was the worship leader’s son, and his dad conducted practice with us several times—this is where I learned performance.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I repented of backsliding one Sunday several Sundays. I walked to the front of the church during the altar call and repeated our pastor’s prayer. Making this declaration in front of everyone in the church proved I was unashamed. This is where I learned performance.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I doubled down on repentance by throwing all my “secular” CDs and mixtapes in the trash. I was told the music was corrupting and manipulating my mind, drawing me away from God. I thought I was a Christian because throwing those CD’s out was difficult, but I went through with it. This is where I learned self-performance.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I felt guilty about my attraction to beautiful women. I was convinced these lustful eyes made me the ire of God’s wrath. But the mere fact I could recognize that I had lustful eyes—the ability to see and acknowledge beautiful people—meant that I was a Christian.
One time I thought I was a Christian because after going public with my declaration (again), this time to all my new college buddies, I stopped listening to the music we enjoyed together the previous semester. I stopped going to parties with them. I stopped enjoying all the things that were a part of our culture. This is where I learned performance.
One time I thought I was a Christian because, on the final play of football practice, one of my teammates landed on my ankle and snapped my fibula. But the broken bone wasn’t the proof I was a Christian. My bone snapped, and I didn’t yell a single curse word while writhing in pain on the Abilene grass. I thought I was a Christian because it was affirmed by one of my teammates, “Man I know you saved Tim because you didn’t even say one cuss word when you got hurt.” This is where I learned performance.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I married a believer. And when things weren’t going so great in our marriage, we stuck it out, went to Christian marital counseling, and worked it out.
One time I thought I was a Christian because we left a predominately white evangelical church and stopped allowing a version of American religiosity and whiteness define our relationship.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I never smoked anything, ever.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I never drank alcohol.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I abstained from sex.
One time I thought I was a Christian because my mom affirmed it.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I stopped doing culturally black things.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I didn’t vote for anyone in a Presidential election.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I didn’t affirm the LGBTQ “agenda.”
One time I thought I was a Christian because I read all the latest Reformed Theological Christian books.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I was a member of a famous pastor’s church that we drove 30 minutes both ways to attend weekly.
One time I thought I was a Christian because my wife and I were home group leaders.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I prayed daily.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I read my Bible and memorized verses daily.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I knew how to neatly package together a coherent and reasonable answer for why everyone else should believe I’m a Christian.
One time I thought I was a Christian because other people affirmed it.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I felt it.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I knew it.
One time I thought I was a Christian because I was a great performer.
Now, performing (ministering, serving, or whatever you want to call it) for the audience and love of the One who I believe can see through all of my bullshit is as absurd as convincing The Emperor He Has No Clothes.
At one time I thought I was a Christian because I did, said, and didn’t do nor say a lot of stuff. No longer do I consider myself a Christian because; Instead, I consider myself loved and protected, and for that, I am grateful to believe in someone bigger than myself who can love me more than I can love myself sometimes. And that person for me is Jesus. Where or to whom else can I go?