“Stay away from her, man, she’ll just try to convert you! That’s all they do, really. They say they do not care, but they will not stop trying to convince you that Jesus is real.” My friend (and guy who I generally look up to in every way) said this to me my freshman year as I explained to him that I had just met this really cool Christian girl. I laughed it off, shrugging as I thought that ultimately nobody could “convert” me in any sense of the word. I mention this because I remember clearly thinking that if I were ever to become Christian, it would be through my own volition and my own explorations into faith. At the very least, I was not about to let a woman, no matter how “cool” she was, influence my core beliefs.
But something about his statement stuck with me, and I think I have finally worked out what it was. My friend believes that though a Christian will tell you they love you for who you are and would never want to force their beliefs upon you, they ultimately will respect you and regard you less until you profess their beliefs as well. He was a religious studies minor, a philosophy major, had read the Bible and had had many discussions with friends about their beliefs.
His understanding of the Christian world view was that of an exclusive club. Unless you pass a certain core set of standards, you will not be allowed into the hearts of the people in the club. Not only that, but it is like the exclusive club only speaks a certain language to each other, and they shift to regular language when they talk to the “outsiders.”
What I have come to realize is that this is true. Being a Christian is necessarily an exclusive world-view, much the same as being an engineer is different from being an English teacher. There is absolutely no way to avoid it. Christians see other Christians (and I imagine this is the same for all other sorts of religions) through different lenses than with non-Christians. The analogy of the professions falls short, however, because in most cases, it would be as if engineers believed that engineering was far superior to English teaching and was the only “right” profession to go into. No, even more so; unless you are an engineer, your life is meaningless.
Many people have this issue with “religions” in general. How dare someone consider their world-view and beliefs to be not only righteous but necessary to living a full and meaningful life? How could they ever claim to love me as a person if they see me as another lost soul, and I know deep down that were I to become Christian, they would rejoice?
Ultimately, adherents to Christianity are necessarily put at a difficult place in their relationships to non-Christians because Jesus claims in the Bible “I am the Way and the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” (John 14:6, NIV) How, then, could someone relate deeply to a friend who asks them “will I go to Heaven even if I do not believe in Jesus” or “Can I not have a relationship with God outside of this man Jesus?” The answer, if the Christian believes the words of the Bible as truth (which is, of course, a Pandora’s box that we shall not peek into at the moment), is seemingly a resounding “No.”
My mind screamed out at this. That doesn’t really capture the feeling. My whole being rebelled against this notion. There, that is better.
Part of my struggle with Christianity that it offered me a set of beliefs that required me to automatically look at other people and say “I’m sorry, I may love you, but you’re wrong. You may be on the right track, but you are wrong.”
I have since found, and am so relieved to say, that this is not correct. In my experiences, the longest lasting and most real friends I have had have been Christian. Maybe that is a product of who I choose to surround myself with. But I tend toward the explanation that they are the people who have loved me the most and judged me the least, even through my most shameful times.
But there is more to it than my own personal relationships. Christian, the word, can be broken down in a few ways. Two of which are “little Christ” or “Christ follower”. The implications of this are enormous. Christians are therefore called to act as Jesus Christ acted (questions of his historicity are unimportant as Christians believe he existed and that the Bible is reliable). Any way you look at it, Christ championed community, love of thy neighbor, and judgment left to God.
A Christian who looks down upon others as inferior is one who misses the message of Christianity. A part of that message is that we are all broken people who are called to live in community with one another, forgive each other and live deeply. Most people know the parable “Let him without sin cast the first stone.” This is inherent in the teachings of Jesus.
So what is Christianity all about? What is it that I have found that differs from my friend’s interpretation, from this exclusive club?
The personal message for all of us is that we are broken people. No matter how strong we may see others or ourselves, there is something not right. This relates directly to the “void” we all feel in some way. Christians are excited (as are adherents of other faiths) because they have found a way to the perfect healing of this brokenness.
The beauty of Christianity is the community that forms from this. It is a community of openness, love, and support.
Keep asking, keep searching.
There is hope.
Sean Matthews is a senior philosophy major who found religion to be a helpful part of his life in college. In this column, he explores the idea of how religion can fit into a college student’s life, and he shares his story in hopes that you’ll find a connection with your own experience.
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