Amazing Grace

Why is it that one so often finds more grace outside the church than inside? That's something I've wondered about for a very long time. Let me start this off by saying that I am not writing this from a victim's standpoint, whining and bitching that I've been hurt by people in the church and that's why I no longer attend. No. If I did, I would be extremely hypocritical, as I know that I, too, can be extremely ungracious; I still wrestle with it at times. To those I've hurt, I am deeply sorry. This may sound a tad hypocritical coming on the heels of my last post, but it needs to be said.

When I first started dating DH 12 years ago, he told me that he was a "radical gracist" in the Pauline tradition. When he at first explained to me where he was coming from, I really didn't understand it. I was one of those that really liked rules: black and white. I liked defined lines where I knew where I stood and understood my boundaries. If I stepped outside those boundaries, well I knew there would be consequences for my actions - but at least I knew that. I had a very sensitive conscience, and hated breaking rules. I didn't like things that were subjective. The funny thing is, I should have liked math, as there are always right and wrong answers, yet due to my chromosomal deficiency, I hated it. Oh, sure, I talked grace, but somehow I had missed out what it really was. I really didn't understand it. I didn't realize that at the time; I thought I did. But I didn't. I very much had a rod up my you-know-what and was a stick-in-the-mud and could be extremely judgemental. For example, I really didn't understand how certain denominations could justify ordaining gay ministers. I mean, it was right there in black and white in the Bible that they were going to hell. How could they not see it?

Yet, on the other hand, I always felt that it was more important to show people love than rules. I really didn't see how throwing a bunch of rules at someone would encourage them to come to church or convert them to christianity. Showing them that you cared was the only way to make them see that you had something special that they might be interested in knowing more about. Launching a lot of scripture at them would not be the appropriate thing to do.

In schools of legal thought, I would consider myself a natural law person, as opposed to a positivist. Let me take a moment to explain that. Natural law means that there is a higher law or higher principle than man-made rules. For example, if a pregnant woman was speeding to the hospital because she was miscarrying her baby and a policeman pulled her over, the right thing to do by natural law would be to let her off: there was a higher goal, preserving the life of the baby. Now, if the policeman was operating under positive law, he would give her the ticket: she had violated the law, and should therefore receive the ticket, even if there was a reason.

The whole idea of radical grace was a little disconcerting to me. I mean, Paul does say that everything is acceptable, but that made me uncomfortable. Everything??? When I thought of the ramifications, that made me very uncomfortable. Then I met some of DH's friends. They were some of the most gracious people that I've ever met. I haven't always been that gracious towards them, I'm sorry to say. Yet, they had something that I admired.

Slowly but surely, I felt some of my legalism and judgementalism strip away. It wasn't working anyway. The more I tried to be good and failed, the more miserable I was. I wanted freedom. Not because I was planning on running around abusing my freedom, but inwardly, I've always hated rules for the sake of rules. Sure, we need some rules to function by as a society, but there was enough of a rebel in me to say that some rules weren't worth keeping. Just because it's a rule doesn't necessarily make it right. For some rules, there is no basic moral reason behind them. For example, we don't drive on the right-hand-side of the road in North America because it's immoral to drive on the left.

As someone said to me, "If it pleases you to please the Lord, then you can please yourself." I began to realize that who was I to judge someone because they were gay? What did it matter to me? Wasn't it between God and their conscience? Why was it any of my business? Why did I think I had the right to judge them? When I realized that, it was a tremendous relief. It was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I realized that I had been very arrogant in thinking that I could play judge and jury. People are grown ups and can be responsible for their own decisions. Now, I may not necessarily like what a person may do, but it's not my place to judge. Here's an example: I don't like abortion - not by a long shot. Yet, I don't feel I have the right to force a woman to have a baby she doesn't want or can't afford. All I hope is that she makes an informed choice.

It reminds me of the novel, "In His Steps" in which a group of church members took a vow that for the next year they would do nothing without first asking themselves the question, "What Would Jesus Do?" How they anwered that question was between them and God. No one else in the group that took the pledge was to question a choice that another member had made. A decision one person made would not be the same decision that another person made. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could live like that? Wouldn't it be intensely freeing?

I'm not saying that *everyone* inside the church is ungracious; I'm talking more about the institution in general. I think Jesus was right when he said, "If your neighbour is taking you to court and on the way you meet up with him, settle it there." The reason would be it's better if you the two parties can work it out together; the minute you get an institution involved, you end up handing over some (or all) of your autonomy and nobody gets the result they want and often justice isn't served. The same thing with church; it's an institution. It seems to be the nature of institutions. The minute they are involved (whether government or churches), rules, protocol and procedure come into play and the whole goal of the exercise is lost. The rules are there so that people have guidelines of behaviour; so that people can "expect" others to behave in a certain way. The church, sadly, becomes more about keeping the flock in line than showing grace. How often has a person in a church either unconscionably or consciously done something unexpected? I don't need to elaborate; we've all seen the reaction and fallout when that happens.

A long time ago, I know of an individual who was going through a tough time (Person "A") and the church didn't make it easy on them. Yet there was one person (Person "B") who stepped up to the plate and went and did something very loving and gracious for Person A. I know some people thought that perhaps Person B was condoning what Person A had done. Who cares? I'm sure what Person B did was a real bright moment during what was otherwise a very very painful time for Person A.

Perhaps because we're all walking wounded and it's those that are disturbed by the legalism they've come across in the church that it's those of us who are outside can understand grace more than those inside. (Notice I said *can* not *do*). I'm not perfect - far from it. As I said, I still wrestle with legalism and ungrace. I still lose my temper (as evidenced by my last post). I'm a pilgrim on this road searching for truth - just as you are. Where your path may go, may not be the same as me. And I'm all right with that. I don't expect you to agree with me 100%. Wouldn't it be ironic if I got hate mail for this post? I think it would just go to prove exactly what I've been saying...