Are You A Real Christian?

                I was raised Roman Catholic.  Like most kids, I wasn’t given a choice in the matter, I was born into it, a walking talking stereotype. Despite not attending parochial school, I was fond of wearing plaid skirts to class, complete with little girl lace trimmed socks, a teenage boy’s fantasy come to life.  (Although I never imagined anyone had such thoughts about me, many years later several former classmates confessed to me that indeed they did.  That kind of makes an ugly duckling feel better, but I’m digressing.)  I attended CCD (basically Bible or religious instruction, for those not in the know) every year from second grade until seventh, sacrificing Saturday morning cartoons, and missing Muppet Babies.  In seventh the instruction got more serious, and took place Monday nights, forcing me to miss Perfect Strangers. Serious my ass.  Although run by priests, they just showed afterschool specials, stories about teenagers faced with choices about shoplifting, taking drugs or “going too far” on a date.

                A family friend (we called him Uncle Al although he wasn’t a blood relation, he was my dead great uncle Franny’s best friend)  had studied to be a priest at nearby Graymoor.  At least once a year, he visited his old stomping grounds, taking me and my younger sister.  My favorite part was the gift shop, where I always purchased a bookmark.  Al hoped I would become a nun, and sent me Lives of the Saints picked up at various flea markets.  He especially sent me books about St. Theresa of Liseux, otherwise known as the Little Flower of God, because Theresa is my middle name. She was my patron saint.

                The idea of being a nun danced around in the back of my mind for many years.  When I was nine, I used to hold my own masses with only my sister in attendance.  I tried to build my own church in the backyard, after learning about Native Americans building wigwams.  I would make the sign of the cross in public given the slightest excuse.  Okay, I was a little freak, but I’ve since heard this kind of religious fervor wasn’t uncommon among Catholic schoolgirls.

                My religious phase passed, as it usually does with kids that age, and by the time I reached adulthood, I was officially a lapsed Catholic, although I still believed the basic ideals.  I still thought about becoming a nun, but more along the lines of “if I don’t find a husband, maybe I should just become a nun.”  (Funny that I’d absorbed that outdated societal norm.  Just fifty or sixty years before an unmarried Catholic woman of a certain age would have wound up a nun).  I revisited the idea several times in college, especially because I had a roommate that informed me today’s nuns lived in communal settings, like friends in a dorm.  She was considering that as an alternative to marriage herself. That didn’t sound half bad to me.  Actually, it sounded like fun.

                At some point, my lapsed Catholic status became “wouldn’t set foot in a church if I was paid” and, “I was raised Catholic, but I’m not anymore.” Most of the blows to my beliefs were inflicted by Dr. Coleman in college, who taught my Biblical Heritage in Lit class.  One time after class I said, “I’m losing my religion, Coleman, and it’s your fault.”  Amused, he said, “it’s not my fault.  It’s the truth!”

                My point is not to disparage religion, or to tell you a certain set of beliefs is wrong, it’s to illustrate that I know the Bible backwards and forwards.  I’ve actually read it.  At length. Many times.  From childhood, when said Bible was a big illustrated book my Uncle Al gave me that contained the goriest pictures.  The one that haunted my nightmares was of Elijah being lifted to heaven by a chariot of fire.  Elijah, his face contorted in pain, was aboard a flaming wagon and there was blood everywhere.  That did not look like a fun way to go to heaven.  I still don’t know what the artists were trying to convey with that image.

                So, knowing the Bible the way I do, I cannot fathom the beliefs of today’s so-called Christians.  I mean, have they read what the Bible says and absorbed what Jesus taught? Because I’ve browsed the pages of some staunch, self-proclaimed Christians that preach a steady, consistent message of hate.

                These days, I’m not quite sure what I believe other than the fact that how you treat others on this earth is your single most defining characteristic.  It determines where you go next.  Do I have any answers?  No.  I just know the energy you give off in your lifetime, whether it’s positive or negative, is what defines you as an individual.  I think most of us probably give off more positive than negative, but there are times when the world has descended into darkness, and it’s because negative energy has taken over.  For instance, the Rwanda massacre and the Holocaust. 

                The negative energy on these phony Christians’ pages should alarm us all, because it’s contagious, and if you need to be reminded where that ends up, look at some of the photos of Auschwitz after liberation.

                You don’t have to identify as a Christian to agree with the basic teachings of Jesus.  Jesus taught love and acceptance, tolerance, and a lack of judgment.  However, you do have to agree with basic teachings of Jesus to be a Christian.  If you don’t, I don’t know what you are, but you are not Christian.

                To those Christians that are constantly bashing illegals, I say Matthew 25: 31 is quite clear on this point:

             ‘Away with you, you cursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his demons.[d] 42 For I was hungry, and you didn’t feed me. I was thirsty, and you didn’t give me a drink. 43 I was a stranger, and you didn’t invite me into your home. I was naked, and you didn’t give me clothing. I was sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’

44 “Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and not help you?’

45 “And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’

                What Bible are these people reading?  I’d like to know.  Apparently, they’re not reading it.  They’re letting other people tell them what it says.  Christ even showed mercy to those that committed crimes and were in prison!  How can you call yourself a Christian, and be so heartless?  That illegal alien picked up on the border is Jesus.  He is in every single person you would label, judge, and shun.  Your failure to see this will be your undoing.

                Yes, in order to be a real Christian, you must show compassion to the “least of your brother and sisters.”  That means the people you think are beneath you, for whatever reason.  Because they’re the wrong race, or the wrong ethnicity, or have made the wrong choices.  The Bible is clear.  The most important thing to do is love your fellow humans, and by loving your fellow humans, you love God, because God is in everyone.

                None of us are perfect, least of all me.  It may be another universally held truth that we will all fall short of our quest to be good.  There is always going to be something we shouldn’t have done, or something we should have done and didn’t.  There will be times when we put our own selfish needs over the greater good.  We are only human. 

                But, here’s the clincher, we’re supposed to be trying.  And if you’re calling yourself a Christian and posting hateful things against minorities, or certain political groups, or homosexuals, or anyone different than you, then you need to open that book and read it.  You are not following the teachings of Christ.  Maybe you’ve been tricked into following Satan.  Because once you start posting hate you’ve fallen away from the light, and you are too blinded by your own pain to see it.

            Being a Christian doesn’t mean making the sign of the cross, or wearing one around your neck, or going to church, or singing hymns, or telling other people how they should live their lives, or informing them they’re going to hell because you don’t agree with their choices.  It means you strive to love others as if every single one is Jesus.  Christianity is supposed to be synonymous with love. 

                So, for the love of God, stop the hate.