Part 3 of By Their Fruits: A Great Way Off

I grew up in southwestern Virginia, on the edge of the Bible Belt, about an hour from Liberty University, the school Jerry Falwell founded in Lynchburg. That definitely shaped the brand of Christianity I was introduced to early on. Southern Baptist was the faith I met first, and for a long time I thought it was the whole thing. Part 2 ended with me walking away from it. This is how I came back.

Church was high school

To be fair, there were a lot of really good people in the Southern Baptist church. Some of the nicest people I knew growing up were very religious.

But my focus was always on the ones who used it as status. The ones who were mean to people until they learned they went to a church they knew. That was an everyday occurrence in school.

In a lot of ways, church felt like a second high school. You had the popular churches, with the hot and wealthy families. You had the poor churches. You had some casual ones in there. And seeing people use what church someone goes to against them is a big turn-off.

I’m neurodivergent, so I grew up knowing what it’s like to be ostracized. I could empathize with the kids who were ostracized for going to the wrong church. The church bullies, as I came to call them, turned me away.

No God in a world this cruel

It was the human element of church that turned me off. By middle school, I considered myself an atheist. It felt like there couldn’t be a God in a world this cruel. How in the world can there be a God that makes some of us feel so bad?

To be clear, God did none of this. Humans did. That’s where I was wrong, and it would take me nearly two decades to see it.

Better than them

Here’s the irony. What I gained by being an atheist was a sense of being better than the mean churchgoers. I wasn’t like them.

Jesus told a story about a man who felt that way. “The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are.” (Luke 18:11) I quoted that parable in A Bigger Table about the people I grew up around. It fits me just as well. I just left God out of the prayer.

It took me a long time to see the hypocrisy in my own ways. That was my own human limitation. I wasn’t a fool. I was human, like the people I was judging.

The way back

There were a few turning points for me.

The cruelty

Ironically, the Trump administration was a big one. I haven’t seen this level of cruelty and evil in my lifetime. Part 2 is about the people this cruelty is pushing out of the church. It pushed me in.

In difficult times, sometimes we need a helping hand. Watching the destruction done to our neighbors and neighborhoods, all in the name of power and money, is disheartening. I found comfort in learning to lean on God in the moments when it felt like too much. I’ve had many moments where I’ve felt like giving up, and always there’s that innate thing that steps in and comforts me. That’s a superpower, and I’m so glad I found it.

A Democrat with a Bible

Another big catalyst was James Talarico. Early in his campaign, I remember being drawn to the way he used Scripture to explain what was happening and what we can do about it. (The Man in the Mirror has the rest of his story.) I’ll be honest: I can’t recall ever hearing a Democrat use Scripture that way.

It hit me that there’s more to Christianity than I thought. I had always associated Christians with the right wing, and where I grew up, that was mostly true. That kept me away from a lot of Scripture. But that was my own ignorance.

Lewis

Talarico got me to pick up C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity. In essence, we all seem to carry the same moral sense, innate in us, and we can’t explain where it comes from. That’s where God comes in. I’ve said before that I think the argument is a bit simple. It’s still the best argument for the existence of God I’ve ever heard, and it connected with me. (A Bigger Table has more.)

The job

Then I was pushed out of my job through bullying, mostly over my neurodivergence. (Eleven Years a Cast Member is that story.) It put me in a really dark headspace.

I picked up the Bible and started reading Matthew. I found comfort in it. Jesus was ostracized. Jesus struggled. He told his followers they would live a hard life. It clicked. I wrote about that year in In Good Company.

I had spent so long thinking I was a horrible person, and that’s why bad things happened to me. Jesus’ disciples once asked him the same question about a man born blind: “Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.” (John 9:2–3) I’ve written about why suffering isn’t punishment in This Is My Luck.

I’d been reading the scoreboard wrong, the same way the psalmist did: “For I was envious at the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.” He couldn’t make sense of it either. “When I thought to know this, it was too painful for me; Until I went into the sanctuary of God; then understood I their end.” (Psalm 73:3, 16–17) People who cut corners often seem to have an easier time here. That scoreboard only counts what happens here. That realization was huge for me.

My wife

My wife was also a huge inspiration. She grew up Christian, and her experience was much different from mine. She could see the beauty in God, and she helped show me the way. My wife is the closest thing to a living and walking angel I’ve ever seen. It’s hard for me to believe that dumb luck led us together. This was God’s will.

A great way off

I feel like I’ve been given a new chance at life. I’m seeing the good and beauty in situations I would have complained about before. And ultimately, I think that’s the real journey here. I don’t care what you ultimately believe in, but let it be something that lifts you up. Christianity is making me a better person and a better husband. That’s the main point.

I thank God for this every day. He deserves all the glory.

When I picked up that Bible, I was still a great way off. That’s where Luke says the father saw his son: “But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran.” (Luke 15:20)