Why I'm Still a Christian

I was having a discussion with an agnostic friend of mine a few months ago when she commented that she wished there were some language to separate mean Christians from more loving ones. In the moment, I quickly agreed with her. "If I had a penny for every time I've felt that while watching some TV evangelist or sidewalk preacher make a mockery of what I believe, I'd... Well, I'd have a lot of pennies," I said.

This conversation came to mind recently when I read that author Anne Rice has in her words, "quit Christianity." Here is part of her explanation:

For those who care, and I understand if you don't: Today I quit being a Christian ... It's simply impossible for me to 'belong' to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I've tried. I've failed. I'm an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else.

As I said below, I quit being a Christian. I'm out. In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In the name of ... Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.

My faith in Christ is central to my life. My conversion from a pessimistic atheist lost in a world I didn't understand, to an optimistic believer in a universe created and sustained by a loving God is crucial to me. But following Christ does not mean following His followers. Christ is infinitely more important than Christianity and always will be, no matter what Christianity is, has been, or might become.

Anne Rice

Volumes could be written about the ideas Rice has presented here, but I hope to keep this to just a few brief thoughts.

When I read this story, I felt a deep resonance with it. I, along with almost every Christian I know and I would guess many others, have felt Anne's sentiment many times. We've felt love for Christ and disgust at his followers. We've felt embarrassment when some popular Christian figure utters hateful words or indignation when our non-Christian friends lump us in with some prevailing Christian stereotype. We've felt misrepresented and abused by organized religion. We've suffered hurt at the hands of other Christians and hated Christianity for it. We've seen hypocrisy over and over again by people who claim to follow Jesus and wanted nothing to do with them.

Once, during the beginning of my freshman year in college, I seriously considered the idea of just forming a whole new religion, with Jesus at its center. Abandon everything about organized "Christianity," including all history, names, and language. Call myself something completely different. Make a clean break.

But I couldn't. Because I felt Christ himself wouldn't allow it.

You see, all of Christianity is predicated on the notion that everyone, including Christians themselves, are sinful. We have a natural proclivity towards all the things I hated Christians for. And instead of abandoning sinners, Christ called us to love them. "There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." Even the anti-gay, the anti-Democrat, the anti-science. I realized that much of my desire to abandon Christians was rooted in a belief that I wasn't like them, that I was less sinful than they were—but everything I knew about Christ told me I wasn't. When I realized this, I wrote about it in a post called "The New Hypocrisy."

But there's more to it than that. God designed us to live in community with one another. Community is messy. It is full of messy, hurt, confused people. And Christianity is the largest, oldest community we have. I'm not suggesting people should stay in communities or relationships when they become abusive or members refuse to repent, but I am suggesting that there is no perfect community, Christian or otherwise. I was never going to find a religion or belief-system full of perfect people by abandoning messy Christians. The world is woefully messed up, and throwing my lot in with a small group of humble Christians has gained me so much more than abandoning them ever could have. As Jascha Heifetz said, "No matter what side of the argument you are on, you always find people on your side that you wish were on the other."

There's even more to it than that. It hurts me to hear Anne Rice tell the American public once again that mainstream Christians are "anti-gay, anti-feminist, anti-artificial birth control, anti-Democrat, anti-secular humanism, anti-science, and anti-life." Some of the staunchest Democrats I know are Christians. Some of the brightest scientists I know are Christians. My own wife is a glorious, unbounded Christian feminist. I could go on. These wonderful people have had a profound impact on me—as a Christian. I know this probably goes without saying, that there are many Christians who are not "anti" these things. But it hurts to hear this contradicted publicly.

Despite all this, I can't blame Anne. I'm not blaming her. She's absolutely right when she says following Christ doesn't mean following his followers. Amen to that. I often feel pulled to abandon Christians, just like her. But I've also come to believe that the one thing this "quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group" has going for it—Christ's forgiveness and redemption—is worth aligning myself with. I choose to live in community with these quarrelsome folks because I know I am quarrelsome enough myself, and Christ's redemption is what binds us together, as it did our Christian ancestors. I understand and commiserate with Anne's decision, but I'll stay for now.

Image: Los Angeles Times

Update 8/28/10: Anne Rice shared this post on her Facebook page with the following comment: "One more commentary from Justin Scott on my decision to walk away from organized religion. Let me comment briefly. I don't feel alone. I think the Body of Christ is not limited to any one church, sect or group, or to those who call themselves 'Christians.' It includes all of us who believe in Him. (And I appreciate Justin's gentle and generous approach.)"