I grew up in a little church where everyone is called “brother” or “sister” and the Second Coming or the penalties of sin were preached about at least 6 times a month. Bro. Haney was a wise man in the church, covered with leather skin and grace, and he used his deep voice to sing bass in our choir and to gently tease or soothe those around him. He was universally loved and when he spoke people truly listened.
When I was around twelve we had a testimonial service, which is sorta like an open mic night at a bar. Anyone can stand up and share their story about the greatness of a god who saved a wretch like them. Unfortunately, like an open mic night, what you mostly get are uninspiring and quasi-forced renditions of stories that are amazingly similar in content.
On that night, Bro. Haney stood up to speak. Due to my respect for him, I stopped whatever time-killing activity I was involved in and listened. What he said prompted me to think seriously about god for the first time. Unfortunately, it also led to a warped sense of who god is and what is going to happen next in his narrative.
With the certainty of a bad prosecutor Bro. Haney launched into an apocalyptic colloquy, stating that within his lifetime Jesus Christ would be coming back to rapture the church. All I could think was, “Damn! This guy is old; that doesn’t leave us much time!” My focus then turned to fearing god and the goal of leaving this irredeemable earth and going to heaven. However, like any religion based on fear and fatalism, it didn’t stick over the long haul.
Over the next 15 years I experienced a lot of life. I left my homogenous hometown the first chance I got and made a lot of decisions that most would argue were bad. I didn’t worry too much about god because, as was explained to me during my season of post-Haney fear, this world was irredeemable anyway and I already had my ticket to heaven.
During that time my eyes were opened to the world around me. I was exposed to diversity of race and sexual orientation for the first time. I realized that the stereotypes I learned growing up were not only incorrect, but were unjust, ignorant and hateful. I learned that while I lived in relative abundance, others die from abject poverty. I learned about exploitative labor practices often used to make our food and goods, and the environmental damage often caused by both. I learned about injustices within our legal system. My eyes were opened to the plights of the “least among us”.
I don’t know what prompted it, but I also began to have a deep sense that god was indeed concerned about affecting change in this world for those suffering. The life, compassion and empathies of Jesus became real to me. I became convinced that the earth isn’t simply some stopping point on the way to distant places called heaven and hell, but a place for us to try like hell to turn back into what god originally created. I am now certain that is the essence of Christianity. Bro. Haney was not only wrong about his prediction, but he was wrong about the very purpose of following in the way of Jesus.