I received my very first Bible when I was six years old. I liked the pictures more than the words, and I liked the felt board stories in Sunday School most of all. I grew up in the Methodist Church, you know, one of the "First" ones in my city. I loved all of the animals in the stories. I was fascinated by the fact that every man had a big burly beard, and I thought all of their robes looked really comfortable when compared to my weekly tortures of mandatory dresses and hose. The Christmas story was always my favorite Bible story. I was captivated by Mary. She was so strong and loved Jesus so much. I actually had quite a few dreams about her when I was around this age, and one seemed so real I am tempted to call it a vision. In my dream/vision I awoke from sleep and stood on my bed to look out the window. Normally, through this window I could only see the side of my neighbors house that had a window that was always closed with the blinds down. This night however, the window was wide open and I saw Mary. She was wearing a deep sapphire colored robe and Jesus was in her arms. She was rocking him to sleep and singing. Then she looked up, straight into my eyes and I was flooded with joy, strength, awe, and mystery. The next night I woke up in the middle of the night and looked out my window to see if she was there again. However, the window that was not filtered through dream/vision was cloaked in darkness. I was sad when I realized I may never see her again, but I held onto that feeling she gave me, and I can still conjure it from time to time.
Jesus inspired similar feelings in me, except his were more personal while my feelings for Mary had a mentor like quality. Jesus was my friend. I loved the felt board picture of Jesus and the little children sitting on his lap and at his feet. I could tell him anything and I knew he wouldn't tell anybody. I knew he was always there for me. When I was sad, all I had to do was close my eyes and he would hold me and tell me everything was ok. The stories in the Bible told me he was always in my heart because of what he did for me on the cross. The Bible was solely a book of stories to me then, but it evolved as I grew older.
I joined the Methodist Church when I was 11 years old. I received a Hymnal, a Book of Discipline, and you guessed it, a Bible. By then, I saw the Bible as a book of rules to follow, or else. I only read it when I had to, but I got the gist of these rules and lived accordingly.
They were as follows:
Don't lie, EVER
Don't cheat in school, EVER
Don't hit your sister or your friends, even if they hit you first...EVER
Don't disobey your parents, EVER...this one was very important
Don't skip church, EVER
Don't be gay, EVER
Pray before meals and before you go to bed
You get the idea.
Around this age Sunday School started to remind me of regular school, and I didn't enjoy it very much. The felt boards were gone, we didn't have play time anymore, and we didn't have snack time. All I remember is learning rules, and learning what a pulpit and a narthex were. Looking back, I know this was because our church simply had no one to teach our age group who had any previous experience, but I missed Jesus as my friend. I feel God was up in heaven pointing his finger at me saying, "I'm watching you" like a school principal and not like a loving Father. My extreme focus on these rules faded the love and friendship I felt coming from Jesus my friend, and the fear set in. This fear shadow of what if I am not good enough would haunt me for most of my life. This fear would end up coagulating into the tangible form of Legalism until my life fell apart enough for God to love the scared girl I was on the inside of that coagulated legalistic shell. Ah, but I am getting ahead of myself.
My fear shadow had fallen on my heart so the light of Jesus' love was dimmed by the shiny new reinforced importance of Biblical Rules. Instead of soaking in God's love for me that exists solely because I exist, I started to believe that God loves me only if I followed these Biblical Rules. This snowballed into the misconcception that He had a love to work/rules ratio.
Notice the progression: 1: God loves me. 2. God loves me if I follow rules and doesn't love me if I do not follow these rules. 3. God will love me more if I follow more rules and do more "good" things and he will love me less if I do bad things and do not follow these rules.
I think the understanding of God's love for us is part of what Jesus means when he says in Luke 18:16, "But Jesus called for them and said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them, for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it." How will we ever have the courage to face God and enter the Kingdom of heaven if we do not soak in and embrace the eternal fact that God loves us solely because we exist?
No comments:
Post a Comment