I’ve always been a believer

Never thought I’d become a Chreaster

Only going to church on Christmas and Easter

But even now it’s getting hard

I’m like an overboiled egg

I remember what my late pastor once said

Sitting in church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than sitting in a garage makes you a car

What is church?

Is it a group of humans – living in communion?

Why then is everyone there so mean?

Something else I’ve seen: hate because of one’s skin tone, a homophobic zone under a steeple, the belief that the wealthy or educated are evil

Where does divorce fit in?

And what about women who’ve had an abortion?

And men who don’t work to support their families?

The piercing gossip disguised as righteous prayer

I’m looking for some understanding

And I’m not saying I’ve never been there

There’s certainly blood on my hands, as the saying goes

I’ve been thinking this week about the path Jesus chose

Kneeling to his “enemies”

Washing a coward’s feet

Sharing new life with women first

Forgiving an adulteress who’d been repeatedly cursed

Restoring a traitor

Saving a villain a place in paradise

Being a corrupt humanity’s Savior

Though I’m a Chreaster, it still strikes me as a surprise

But I find I experience this more outside the walls

The unfiltered sky is more glorious than those stained glass windows

Wood pews are uncomfortable

But beach towels, oh!

A Sunday morning run along the water

Where there’s no need to dress fancy

I’m unpolished as I run the streets

And I feel delighted by all the neighbors’ greets: the gay couple who is kind, the autistic kid who is cared for, the city official who takes my taxes

My soul relaxes – in the Lord I believe in

This year I might not be Chreastin’

As spring time blossoms

I think it’s awesome

That He is still working on me and all of humanity

Relativism is a contradiction

But Ecclesiastes does warn to not be overly righteous

The Lord invites us – to do as He did

To love without limit

These days I’m not in church often but in my faith I don’t teeter

I’m still a believer, if no longer a Chreaster

This Easter, in nature, among my neighbors, that’s how I’ll spend it