My name is MatthewBlakeAtkinson (if you haven’t heard me tell the story it can be found here, but it’s important that when you read my name you say it really fast and awkwardly)…let me try that again. My name is MatthewBlakeAtkinson and I’m a recovering Christian. And then you respond, “Hi Matt.”
Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a 12 step program to help people overcome Christianity. The quote above or the sentence I just wrote…man, when I was a Christian those words would have made me feel so uncomfortable.
I would have read it through the conservative Christian version of beer goggles…blinded to the message, because something that was said was contrary to what some guy on some pulpit had told me was true. The way I would have read it would have been “to believe in God is stupidity” and “omg (the g is for gosh, because Christians can’t say oh my god) matt just said he’s not a Christian”. And my response would have been to try to fix those thoughts…to fix that person…to turn them around and get them back on board the good ship Christianity.
But, what if the way I used to view the world and interpret things was wrong? The quote above wasn’t saying that believing in God is stupid. It’s saying it’s stupid to take someone else’s word for it. It goes on to say, “with our own eyes we see, and with our own skin we feel…each person must puzzle it out for himself or herself.”
Make up your own damn mind. Don’t believe it because someone said so. What do you feel? What do you see? Talk about it. Ask questions. Fuck up. I remember how I used to feel when I was a Christian. I used to feel so guilty all the time.
Like, even me saying I’m a recovering Christian. If I heard someone say that my immediate thought wouldn’t have been to listen…it would have been to preach. To tell them they’re wrong. To win them over. But, what was I trying to win them over to? A religion that didn’t work for me. That’s a pretty fucking hard sell.
The reality is, I was a fucking mess. Christianity didn’t help me. Because really, I was beyond its scope. An old pastor friend used to say that Christianity was often this place where it's “nice to be nice to the nice.” But, what did the church really have to offer those with open wounds? Those who fucked up seemingly beyond redemption’s stretch?
I was reminded of the feeling church gave me by a man I met on the train yesterday. He was an usher in his church. He talked about the nice things. Preachers who stayed in the book. And being married for 47 years. But, I told him about my divorce. And how hard it was to be a preacher’s son. And what the church didn’t give me when I was in my darkest hour.
The conversation wound around and somehow got to him not being able to go to the casino, because he didn’t want a brother to see him there. He didn’t want to cause his brother to stumble because of him being in a gambling house. I told him, “Man…that’s only what they can see. They don’t know your heart.” He was so worried about appearances, but didn’t want to get to the real.
I’d dropped a bunch of real on him, but when I asked him to get real and analyze his casino scene to see that appearances don’t fucking matter…he ran. Immediately he started talking about how bright the sun was and how big the river was. I had legit questions that might have been good for both of us to look at. But, he didn’t want real. He wanted to get me to come to church. “Can I ask you a personal question? How long has it been since you’ve been to church?”
It felt hollow. It felt shitty. Inauthentic. So convinced that he’s right…not really even him, but his cause. But, when it came time to think for himself, he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. But, man I sooooo relate to that guy. I would have been a deer caught in the headlights too. Wait, the Christian handbook doesn’t have an answer for this one, so umm…come to church with me. No fucking way man.
Tell me a story. Get real. Drop the bullshit and the “well the pastor told me that when I’m ushering I need to have a mint in my mouth.” That’s surface/keeping up appearances bullshit. It’s not just your breath that stinks bro. But, it’s okay. I’m a fuck up. You’re a fuck up. Get over yourself and your religion and cut to the chase I hate the idea that what everyone needs is Christianity or church or any religion. What we need is healing and real grace, but we have to be real to really get those things.
We had a former male prostitute come to church one Sunday and tell his “testimony”. It was heavy. He had a lot of sex with dudes. Did a lot of drugs. He was an expert sinner. But, then…enter Christianity and everything’s great. And the crowd breathes a big sigh of relief. Whew. He USED TO be a sinner, now he’s one of us.
But, what’s really going on in that crowd? Some of them are stuck in the one of us mentality…but others are saying, “Fuck…I was hoping he was going to say he’s still fucked up, because I am so hungover right now or I watched porn before church or I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying because of that MILF over there wearing that low cut dress.”
Where is the church for the fucked up? I guess that’s what I’m getting at. What about the people that fall through the cracks? Like my friend the former stripper. She went to church one Sunday and was told she couldn’t sit where she was seated because they were filming the service and she wasn’t dressed right.
And what about the heartbroken girl who has to endure judgment as she walks in the clinic to get an abortion? Or any of the other tons of people who just don’t feel comfortable ever setting foot in a church? I know after my whole situation with strip clubs the last place I wanted to be was church.
But, man I’ll tell anyone my story. Because it’s real. I know what I’ve felt. I know what it was like to feel like an outsider to the Christian club. It fucking hurts. Those were my people. But, once I crossed a certain line…they came to me only to get me to come back to their Christian club…not to listen to my story….not to hear about my broken heart and my open wounds. Their Christian buzzwords were like salt on my wounds.
But, there was one Christian friend I told who totally got it. And you know what his response was? He confessed his worst sin to me. Finally. The real. It was such a great moment for both of us.
He told me that in Sunday School the other day, he used my story of butt dials from strip clubs and my wife finding a love note I wrote to a stripper. The group started to give the standard Christian answers for what to do with a sinner like me. But, he got them to see the other side. To flip it. My wife got the support of the church, which is great...she needed it and deserved it. But, I had a broken heart long before any of that happened.
My buddy actually got real in Sunday School. So fucking cool. He said that tears were running down the faces of a handful of people in the group...knowing they've judged people in my spot...knowing they didn't listen to the whole story...knowing they had applied religion where they needed to apply grace. Or maybe, they too are terrible sinners, and are stuck with the guilt that comes with trying to appear to be a good Christian while your insides are being ripped to shreds by the life hidden under the surface.
There’s always a bigger picture. Everyone has a heartbreaking story. But, we have to go to the places where it’s safe to be real. And for me I can do more of that at the bar than I ever could at church. Much respect to the people who can do Christianity and be real. I can't at least right now. And honestly that fucking sucks. I believe in Jesus. I believe in grace, because it’s what changed me and made me able to be real and not plastic. I’m a recovering Christian, yes…but that’s a good thing.
well said.
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