Yesterday, I talked about some of my problems with Christianity in light of my Asperger's Syndrome. Today, I want to discuss Christianity's assets. I may contradict some of what I said yesterday, but, hopefully, my readers have come to expect a lack of stability in my posts.
One aspect of Christianity that attracts me is grace: the notion that God took the first step to initiate a loving relationship with me, even though I'm undeserving. In most social situations, I feel as if I have to earn people's love. If I am intelligent, witty, articulate, charming, attractive, talented, or have money, then people will like me. If I am lacking in those things (or cannot effectively convey to others that I have them), then they dislike me, dismiss me, or forget about me.
God, however, is different. God loved us while we were yet sinners (Romans 5:8). Whether I am rich or poor, handsome or ugly, talented or inept, charming or repulsive, God loves me and desires a relationship with me. And another comforting thought is this: Even those whose social skills are better than mine are not necessarily in a better position, as far as God is concerned. In God's eyes, all are sinners in need of a Savior. We all have moral flaws and need to grow, so we shouldn't look down on one another.
Another aspect of Christianity that somewhat appeals to me is the idea of regeneration. I say "somewhat" because I have mixed feelings. Christianity promises that God can change me, which resonates with me, since I have difficulty changing myself. In a sense, Christianity doesn't advocate doing as much as being. God doesn't just want us to avoid murder and adultery, but he wants us to be the types of people who do not hate and lust. He desires for us to be pure on the inside and the outside, not merely to avoid outward sins. This contradicts what I said yesterday, when I complained that Christianity (unlike Judaism) does not offer clear, doable tasks that I can understand and follow. Of course it doesn't, since it is concerned with how we are, not just what we do. And God is the only one who can change how we are.
Another reason for my mixed feelings is that I don't always see the fruits of regeneration in the lives of myself or other Christians. I'm not saying this from the standpoint of an atheist, who smugly condemns Christians while ignoring his own moral shortcomings and those of other atheists (e.g., Stalin, Mao). Nor am I contending that I am different from all those morally degenerate Christians, since I struggle to see the fruit of the Spirit in my own life, as well as the lives of others. I'm just saying that there are a lot of Christians out there who are jerks. Christians act as if believing the way they do brings moral superiority, but I really fail to see how they are better than anyone else. Not only do they practice the same sins, but they also do a lot of the same good deeds.
This gives me problems with a lot of Christian cliches that I've heard over the years. For example, Christians say that we should be nice to others to draw them to Christ. Once unbelievers see how nice we are, the argument runs, then they will want what we have and convert to Christianity. But Christians don't have a monopoly on being nice. There are people of all religions, philosophies, and creeds who appear to be friendly, affable people. Why should my being nice draw someone else to my worldview, when that person will undoubtedly encounter nice people with other perspectives?
Conversely, I've heard Christians say that, if we sin, then that will compromise our witness, making non-believers question God's ability to change people. But if God automatically changes people once they become Christians, then why do Christians sin? And why should I have to put on a false mask to convince others that God has changed me? If God has changed me, then I shouldn't have to pretend to be something I'm not in order to attract people. I just feel that Christians want me to do false advertising for God. I'm not saying that God hasn't changed people. I just don't think that I should have to pretend that God has changed me or made me perfect. He hasn't, or at least not as much as I'd like.
So I set out to write about Christianity's assets, and I ended up complaining about its deficiencies (from my perspective). Sometimes, as I struggle with my life and faith, I just wonder if I can find any place to rest.