The Discompassionate Christian

April 1, 2016

My faults are without end. I know it. I admit it.

I am a Christian. A Christian with flaws aplenty.

I've been raised to believe sin is sin (no degrees, no levels of severity), in spite of the fact that many of my conservative Christian brethren are quick to stack up sins in a hierarchy that--when you think about it--is most unholy.

So tonight I've decided to don the hat of the Pharisee and cast judgment from this well-intentioned sinner (which might remove me from Pharisee status, but I digress). I'm probably sinning just by typing these words. But I happen to believe in a merciful God who sometimes might actually just say "ok...let's see how this pans out. And even then, I will love you."

I've scoured the scripture for Jesus's encounters with the sins we confront each day. What occurs to me today--as I confronted this particular transgression in the flesh--is that one of my favorite of sweet Jesus's dictates is "let Ye who is without sin cast the first stone." Here's the thing: I can handle all kinds of behavior, excuse it, understand it, forgive it. But the Discompassionate Christian is of an ilk I struggle to tolerate: the person who lacks empathy and compassion for the plights of those in their midst; the deacon/Sunday school teacher/believer who sees only their own wonder and none of their own shortcomings. I don't understand it. It seems to me to be, from my own meek perspective, most unChristian.

Whatever the sin, however dire the wrong, Christ forgave. He empathized. He showed compassion. And yet there are believers wandering around out here seemingly incapable of the same. He is their God whom they claim to follow. Hell, they are the line-leaders! But cold-hearted, sanctimonious acrimony isn't up Jesus's alley. You can check me on that.

And it is my challenge to forgive those who themselves forgive not. Who understand not. Who care not. I ought not cast a stone.  But can I toss it around, just a little?

I do hate to write in the abstract, but sometimes when I get too specific, people get pissed off. These might be the very people who suffer from a void where an empathetic heart may be, but that's not for me to say. You know me, "I'd rather walk on my lips than criticize."

I just tripped on my lips.

Dear Lord, forgive me.

Halpert: The Compassionate Canine