Non-coercive love
Recently we invited a guest speaker, Jeffrey Rosario, to our church to talk about the history of Christian nationalism, where it came from, and how it's impacted the world and our culture today. It was a special weekend, with amazing food, time to connect with community, and a drawing closer to the Jesus I love.
The entire series is worth watching.
The biggest takeaway, which has been deeply reinforced in my mind, is the importance of non-coercive love.
That's the story of God's relationship to humanity, the story of redemption.
When confronted with evil and sin, Jesus chose the path of openness and care. When he was attacked and despised, he forgave and looked to the hearts of his accusers.
When we feel compelled to force belief and action it's because we lack conviction and kindness.
If we ever reach a point where we feel the need to enforce our personal beliefs on others it's because we don't trust the Holy Spirit to work in their lives.
A belief worth holding to doesn't need to be enacted on someone against their will.
I recently talked to a friend about this topic.
They aren't religious, but have consistently shown kindness, care, and love that in a way that should exemplify the Christian label. We had a brief discussion about the impact of Christianity in America, along with the dangers we're seeing of attempts to push a specific brand on the unwilling. My friend called out a refrain I've heard multiple times from atheists, that they have no problem with the Jesus of Nazareth, but do take issue with the institutionalized religion of its professed followers in our day. I could only agree with a heavy heart.
But I also take courage. Since the foundation of the world religion has been used as a weapon to enforce belief and action. Why should Christianity be any different?
Some days I feel embarrassed of the label, ashamed of how it's been weaponized. But I also have hope learning about the history of the brave who stood up to tyranny, turned to tools of love and care, instead of brandishing weapons of destruction.
In the meetings Jeffrey walked through the history of my particular denomination, and how it played an active part in pushing back against Christian nationalism over a hundred years ago—something that I can truly be proud of.
All of this reminds me of a book I've been reading on Roger Williams (a personal hero of mine). As the founder of Rhode Island, he chose to remove references to God in the founding of the colony. It wasn't because he lacked Christian conviction—as a Puritan preacher he held to many of the same beliefs as the leaders of other colonies—but he knew that an enforced religion wasn't the example of Christ, and wasn't a thing worth demanding of anyone without their free will.
That's the Christianity I'm inspired to profess. One that looks to the needy, cares for the defenseless, and follows the example of Christ in speaking truth to power.
God's love is beautiful. It doesn't hold a trick up its sleeve to enforce belief. It doesn't demand, it doesn't coerce. It's beautiful, it draws us, calls to us. It's so good that it doesn't have to be weaponized.