Day 15: I am Thankful Jesus Hates Religion Too

Ok, if you ask me if I'm religious, I'll say yes.  Because I do think that that's how I'd be perceived by the majority of the world.  I don't want to present a false picture of myself and most people, if they were to ask, would just want a "yes" or "no" answer.  At that point they aren't usually in the mood for the, "It's a Relationship not a Religion," speech.

Also, the Bible itself is not afraid to call Christianity a religion, albeit there is an implied asterix:

"Pure and genuine religion is the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you." James 1:27 (NLT)

That kind of religion is excellent.  I have a friend who works with teenage mothers.  Some of the girls have been kicked out of their houses and she has cared to the point of letting them live in her home with her family.  Excellent religion.

But when I say the word "religion," caring for others is not the first picture that comes to my mind.  More commonly the term is associated with stodgy people who are putting their noses where they don't belong trying to control their own behavior and the behavior of everyone around them.  For the rest of my discourse today, this empty definition is what I mean when I refer to "religion."

My story: I grew up in and around a very religious culture.  There were a lot of rules.  A LOT of rules.  And I don't feel that it came down to me from my family directly, but more from the general culture of the groups we were surrounded by at the time.  A LOT of rules.  Occasionally, my mom would firmly hand them to me in "stern voice" but I also know that she was giving to me what had been given to her.  A LOT of rules.

I was always taught that we were saved by grace.  That means that salvation from sin was not earned by doing anything, it was a gift that Christ gave us in exchange for us giving our hearts (our souls) to Him.  That was free.  But the ability to please God AFTER salvation.  That required work.  A LOT of work.  A LOT of rules.

In the 80's and early 90's, at least among my circle of evangelical families and churches, there was a big push for what is now called "Formula Christianity."  There was a belief that if you followed a certain set of rules mentioned in the Bible, then you would have God's favor and you would be blessed.  If you did not follow the rules...yep, you were cursed.

Outside of my own behavior, my family ended up being on the more liberal side of the rules.  (You'd think that being home-schooled, not being allowed to listen to secular music, not being allowed to date, and not being allowed to wear a two-piece swimsuit would be considered pretty strict...but not in this environment.)  Then the word got out that my parent's marriage was in trouble.  Divorce is a bad, bad word in this religious world.  Like, murder would be better.  The family, including myself, ended up being excluded from the formula.  We didn't make it.  We didn't qualify and there was nothing I could do about it...

...except make sure that I grew up to do "the formula" right.  Insert perfectionism immediately followed by failure.  Frustration followed failure.  Emotional pain followed frustration.  As the cycle prolonged depression followed the emotional pain.  Eventually, mental torment followed the depression.

But, of course, to be religiously perfect you have to read the Bible.  And eventually the Scripture I was reading began to work it's way into my battered brain.

Jesus hated this kind of religion.  The "rules make me acceptable to God" kind of religion.  When confronting this issue he was not a sweet timid girly man with a soft British accent.  He got violent.  He went after the religious in the temple with a whip.  Not just a random whip He happened upon conveniently, either.  He sat and made a whip to tear people's stuff up.  Pre-meditated.

He had this to say:

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites!  You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when you have succeeded, you make them twice as much a child of hell as you are." 

Matthew 23:15 (NIV)

You see, He loves us.  He wants us.  Religion reserves Him for those who are good enough to deserve Him.

God despises anything that makes it hard for us to find Him.  

I never managed to be good enough.  I stopped trying.  I began to trust Him to simply love me.  I gave Him my heart.  And after I relaxed, He began to change me from the inside out.  He began to make me more like Him.  I began to blossom.

God's not depressed.  As I become like Him I become less depressed.  It's slow.  Sometimes better and sometimes worse but always consistently forward towards freedom.

This video has been bouncing around quite a bit so I'm going to jump on the bandwagon, too.  (It hurts my prideful side, though.)

Yeeeeah, still not quite done, but I'm done for now.