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That is utterly absurd. What religion am I, if i dont believe in zeus or apollo? Get that nonsense out of here. You believe in literally one more god than i do, and you are in agreement with me about all the rest.non belief is its own religion
Are you a lesbian looking for acceptance from religious people?Just had to post and share this. Some friends told me they had to work double duty at a weekend event booth, because one of their members went off for SIX HOURS holding up a sign in front of a Preacher who she felt was sending the wrong message about God.
She shared this on facebook and social media, where it was going viral.
I think she should publish this as an editorial, it is so well written yet
stays true to her religious beliefs as a Christian. Very moving and sincere:
It has taken me several days to process and pray through the events of this past weekend. Today I felt the Lord prompt me to share.
Disclaimer: This is a very long post. (Come on, at least act surprised…)
-For my job, we had purchased a vendor booth at the Houston Pride Festival.
We loaded our supplies in early Saturday morning and then returned at 11 to get in position for the event to start a...t noon. When we got there, we were stopped at the entrance and were told no one could come inside until an inspection was completed.
We were five minutes into our wait with the thousands of other people when we heard a voice.
The voice was that of a preacher on a microphone who had set up across the street in a barricaded area. He began screaming while his colleagues held up signs condemning the people at the festival. He yelled at the crowd with all the passion of a Sunday sermon about how disgusting they were, he told them God could not stand them, and repeated more times than my heart could take, “Shame on you!” They preached hatred, fear and condemnation in ways I don’t even want to repeat to you.
I stood in shock for a few minutes and tears began to form in my eyes, my heart was broken. All I could say to my co-worker was, “This isn’t right. That’s not Him.”
I only vaguely remember the next few minutes because my heart was beating out of my chest as I heard God’s voice in my spirit say, “Tell them.”
So, I grabbed any pen I could find in the bag my co-worker was carrying before he had to go inside, took the giant sign I had bought for the show and ran across the street. I set the sign face down to the blank side and asked what to do next. Immediately, I knew God wanted me to write this, something we talk about at our church a lot….“God is not mad at you”
Terrified and shaking, I went in front of the barricade on the sidewalk and stood in front of the men shouting. I turned to the crowd and help up my sign.
What happened over the next 6 hours has changed my heart forever.
I became the target of the preachers.
They quickly began to address me, shouting condemnation at what I was doing, imploring the crowd of thousands over the loud speakers “Do not read the sign this woman is making” (I had found someone with a sharpie to make it darker and wrote over the words again.)
He told them that I was wrong, that God is absolutely mad at them. He spoke shame onto me the way they had done over the crowd.
How dare I tell them God is not angry at them?
As I stood in silence, the other preachers off of the mic stood behind me yelling at my back across the fence throughout the entire day condemning my actions, asking how I could tell them God is not angry with them when He clearly hates sin. Telling me that I was sending them straight to hell.
I tried to drown them out and as I stared off into the crowd, I began to think about my own sin. I thought about the fact that you could change the name of the sin on those signs they were holding to one of my own and scream the same condemnation. How without the blood of Jesus, the same would apply to me.
But oh, how we have forgotten about the power of the blood of the Lamb.
I would be lying if I told you that it didn’t get to me, their screams of hatred hurt my heart in ways I could never explain. I had to quickly message one of my church leaders for prayer and guidance to navigate what was happening.
Those long hours of being yelled at by my own “brothers” has affected me even into this week. But in a way I am so glad I felt it, experienced it because it is NOTHING compared to what these people have gone through in their lifetime, all at the hands of “little Christs.”
But do you know what was happening while they were yelling?
The people were coming.
These beautiful people started to cross the street to come over to me individually, others in small groups.
Young, old, male and female, atheists and struggling christians, parents whose children had just come out to them...
Most came to ask if they could hug me, others to thank me for the sign or to ask me for a picture, many yelling thank you from across the street with the most open and appreciative hearts. But a handful came weeping that day. Weeping before they even reached where I was standing. Weeping because they had never been told God loved them, weeping because they lived their whole lives believing the lie that their fate was guaranteed hell. Having constantly been berated about how angry He was with them, how disgusting they were to Him and how much God hated them. I could barely take it. The honor of hugging these people, of seeing their beautiful faces, the grief of knowing that they had been told and at times believed that God hated them. That my Jesus has rejected them.
My Jesus?
The Jesus that kept His hand on me through blatant rebellion and deep, intentional sin, the Jesus who delivered me from addiction, the Jesus whose kindness has lead me to repentance over and over and over again.
I tried to take mental pictures, to count, anything I could think of to help me remember their beautiful faces but I lost track after 50 in the stream of hugs and tears and I love yous.
Let me tell you, these were some of the most kind hearted people I had ever met in my life. They blessed me, they gave the best hugs, many brought me water throughout the day when they would come to talk, and everyone of them came with the biggest hearts I have ever encountered.
And all the while this was happening, the hatred continued pouring out of the speakers at deafening volumes. A certain christian man would even come over to stand beside me when I would have conversations with some of them and criticize, accusing me of preaching a false Jesus.
A few hours later, the city crew began preparations for the parade that night. Two police officers approached me and said they were blocking everything off but if I wanted to, I was allowed to stand in front of the boundary fencing. So for hours, while every other preaching protester was behind 2 barricades, I was left standing in the rain on the open, empty street able to hold the sign to be seen by the tens of thousands that continued to funneled through the entrance.
I couldn’t muster anything eloquent or churchy or theological that day, I just told each one as we embraced that Jesus loved them and He wanted a relationship with them. To some I heard the Lord tell me to apologize. Because we as Christians have stood before them as representatives of God and said, “He hates you.”
We have spoken for Him with words that are not His own. We have acted as spoiled, entitled children of God instead of humble sons and daughters, who have forgotten how desperately we need Jesus every single day. Forgotten the cost of our own sins.
We have told them that their sin is worse than ours, that they are disgusting, unlovable, abominations. We have screamed it from microphones, communicated it in dirty judgmental looks and quiet conversations asking them to leave our polite little church congregations. We have sang Reckless Love to each other on Sunday then lived out a “religious love” to the world during the week. We put things on people that Jesus shed His own blood to remove from them.
But how will they ever know the love He has for them? How will they ever know the power of the blood available to them when we act as though we can bag it up like some legalistic blood bank and only give it to those we deem well enough or worthy as if we are the dispensers of it?
Guess what? We’re not.
It’s His love, His blood to share at His will and the Bible says He does not desire that ANY should perish.
I wonder though christians, do we really desire the same thing?
-Update: Since sharing this experience online, I have received numerous angry messages from Christians about my “flippant disregard” for acknowledging sin. About us “God is all love” type Christians and the assumption that they know every single thing we believe regarding salvation based acts of love like this one.
To them I say: We hear you. We do believe that [all] sin is serious, we can quote scripture as well, we can (and would love) to have a civilized conversation with you about the subject of sin but quite simply, Love came first.
So, how about we address them in order?
To the LGBTQIA community: On behalf of every Christian that has mistreated you, we are so sorry.
We love you, God loves you. He wants a relationship with you and so do we.
You disregard and deny God and religion with a religious fervor....you sound like you are about to bring out the snakes.....That is utterly absurd. What religion am I, if i dont believe in zeus or apollo? Get that nonsense out of here. You believe in literally one more god than i do, and you are in agreement with me about all the rest.non belief is its own religion
Hmm,no, wrong. Gods might exist. But i make fun of dimestore shamans...definitely...all day....You disregard and deny God and religion with a religious fervor..
Why am I getting an informative emoticon response to a simple question, emilynghiem?Are you a lesbian looking for acceptance from religious people?Just had to post and share this. Some friends told me they had to work double duty at a weekend event booth, because one of their members went off for SIX HOURS holding up a sign in front of a Preacher who she felt was sending the wrong message about God.
She shared this on facebook and social media, where it was going viral.
I think she should publish this as an editorial, it is so well written yet
stays true to her religious beliefs as a Christian. Very moving and sincere:
It has taken me several days to process and pray through the events of this past weekend. Today I felt the Lord prompt me to share.
Disclaimer: This is a very long post. (Come on, at least act surprised…)
-For my job, we had purchased a vendor booth at the Houston Pride Festival.
We loaded our supplies in early Saturday morning and then returned at 11 to get in position for the event to start a...t noon. When we got there, we were stopped at the entrance and were told no one could come inside until an inspection was completed.
We were five minutes into our wait with the thousands of other people when we heard a voice.
The voice was that of a preacher on a microphone who had set up across the street in a barricaded area. He began screaming while his colleagues held up signs condemning the people at the festival. He yelled at the crowd with all the passion of a Sunday sermon about how disgusting they were, he told them God could not stand them, and repeated more times than my heart could take, “Shame on you!” They preached hatred, fear and condemnation in ways I don’t even want to repeat to you.
I stood in shock for a few minutes and tears began to form in my eyes, my heart was broken. All I could say to my co-worker was, “This isn’t right. That’s not Him.”
I only vaguely remember the next few minutes because my heart was beating out of my chest as I heard God’s voice in my spirit say, “Tell them.”
So, I grabbed any pen I could find in the bag my co-worker was carrying before he had to go inside, took the giant sign I had bought for the show and ran across the street. I set the sign face down to the blank side and asked what to do next. Immediately, I knew God wanted me to write this, something we talk about at our church a lot….“God is not mad at you”
Terrified and shaking, I went in front of the barricade on the sidewalk and stood in front of the men shouting. I turned to the crowd and help up my sign.
What happened over the next 6 hours has changed my heart forever.
I became the target of the preachers.
They quickly began to address me, shouting condemnation at what I was doing, imploring the crowd of thousands over the loud speakers “Do not read the sign this woman is making” (I had found someone with a sharpie to make it darker and wrote over the words again.)
He told them that I was wrong, that God is absolutely mad at them. He spoke shame onto me the way they had done over the crowd.
How dare I tell them God is not angry at them?
As I stood in silence, the other preachers off of the mic stood behind me yelling at my back across the fence throughout the entire day condemning my actions, asking how I could tell them God is not angry with them when He clearly hates sin. Telling me that I was sending them straight to hell.
I tried to drown them out and as I stared off into the crowd, I began to think about my own sin. I thought about the fact that you could change the name of the sin on those signs they were holding to one of my own and scream the same condemnation. How without the blood of Jesus, the same would apply to me.
But oh, how we have forgotten about the power of the blood of the Lamb.
I would be lying if I told you that it didn’t get to me, their screams of hatred hurt my heart in ways I could never explain. I had to quickly message one of my church leaders for prayer and guidance to navigate what was happening.
Those long hours of being yelled at by my own “brothers” has affected me even into this week. But in a way I am so glad I felt it, experienced it because it is NOTHING compared to what these people have gone through in their lifetime, all at the hands of “little Christs.”
But do you know what was happening while they were yelling?
The people were coming.
These beautiful people started to cross the street to come over to me individually, others in small groups.
Young, old, male and female, atheists and struggling christians, parents whose children had just come out to them...
Most came to ask if they could hug me, others to thank me for the sign or to ask me for a picture, many yelling thank you from across the street with the most open and appreciative hearts. But a handful came weeping that day. Weeping before they even reached where I was standing. Weeping because they had never been told God loved them, weeping because they lived their whole lives believing the lie that their fate was guaranteed hell. Having constantly been berated about how angry He was with them, how disgusting they were to Him and how much God hated them. I could barely take it. The honor of hugging these people, of seeing their beautiful faces, the grief of knowing that they had been told and at times believed that God hated them. That my Jesus has rejected them.
My Jesus?
The Jesus that kept His hand on me through blatant rebellion and deep, intentional sin, the Jesus who delivered me from addiction, the Jesus whose kindness has lead me to repentance over and over and over again.
I tried to take mental pictures, to count, anything I could think of to help me remember their beautiful faces but I lost track after 50 in the stream of hugs and tears and I love yous.
Let me tell you, these were some of the most kind hearted people I had ever met in my life. They blessed me, they gave the best hugs, many brought me water throughout the day when they would come to talk, and everyone of them came with the biggest hearts I have ever encountered.
And all the while this was happening, the hatred continued pouring out of the speakers at deafening volumes. A certain christian man would even come over to stand beside me when I would have conversations with some of them and criticize, accusing me of preaching a false Jesus.
A few hours later, the city crew began preparations for the parade that night. Two police officers approached me and said they were blocking everything off but if I wanted to, I was allowed to stand in front of the boundary fencing. So for hours, while every other preaching protester was behind 2 barricades, I was left standing in the rain on the open, empty street able to hold the sign to be seen by the tens of thousands that continued to funneled through the entrance.
I couldn’t muster anything eloquent or churchy or theological that day, I just told each one as we embraced that Jesus loved them and He wanted a relationship with them. To some I heard the Lord tell me to apologize. Because we as Christians have stood before them as representatives of God and said, “He hates you.”
We have spoken for Him with words that are not His own. We have acted as spoiled, entitled children of God instead of humble sons and daughters, who have forgotten how desperately we need Jesus every single day. Forgotten the cost of our own sins.
We have told them that their sin is worse than ours, that they are disgusting, unlovable, abominations. We have screamed it from microphones, communicated it in dirty judgmental looks and quiet conversations asking them to leave our polite little church congregations. We have sang Reckless Love to each other on Sunday then lived out a “religious love” to the world during the week. We put things on people that Jesus shed His own blood to remove from them.
But how will they ever know the love He has for them? How will they ever know the power of the blood available to them when we act as though we can bag it up like some legalistic blood bank and only give it to those we deem well enough or worthy as if we are the dispensers of it?
Guess what? We’re not.
It’s His love, His blood to share at His will and the Bible says He does not desire that ANY should perish.
I wonder though christians, do we really desire the same thing?
-Update: Since sharing this experience online, I have received numerous angry messages from Christians about my “flippant disregard” for acknowledging sin. About us “God is all love” type Christians and the assumption that they know every single thing we believe regarding salvation based acts of love like this one.
To them I say: We hear you. We do believe that [all] sin is serious, we can quote scripture as well, we can (and would love) to have a civilized conversation with you about the subject of sin but quite simply, Love came first.
So, how about we address them in order?
To the LGBTQIA community: On behalf of every Christian that has mistreated you, we are so sorry.
We love you, God loves you. He wants a relationship with you and so do we.
Oh so now you change your tune?.....Hmm,no, wrong. Gods might exist. But i make fun of dimestore shamans...definitely...all day....You disregard and deny God and religion with a religious fervor..
Also,unicorms might exist. Also, dragons. I see no reason to accept any of it. And faith does not deserve respect.
Threatie MacThreat is at it again. The bible is multiple translations of multiple translations of multiple translations from oral history. And then cut up to fit agendas of the time.So what? Get your voodoo nonsense out of here.God loves them...but hates the sin
Gfy i don't take direction from some shitstain like you.
The Bible is clear
No, gods might exist. I will always say that. Do i think exactly one religion got it right, and all the others got it wrong? Ha, seems very unlikely. .Oh so now you change your tune?.....Hmm,no, wrong. Gods might exist. But i make fun of dimestore shamans...definitely...all day....You disregard and deny God and religion with a religious fervor..
Also,unicorms might exist. Also, dragons. I see no reason to accept any of it. And faith does not deserve respect.
I mean rules written by the Lord.You mean rules written by men claiming to have spoken to or received messages from some ethereal being?^^^ To me, people who have a much more firm grasp on what the Lord's rules happen to be are the better candidates compared to those who only go out there and do whatever the heck they want to with no regard to his word whatsoever.
God bless you always!!!
Holly
Only not everyone follows sadly.My question for the sign holder: How do you feel when someone breaks one of your rules?
God bless you always!!!
Holly
Dear JOSweetHeart
Obviously she is the forgiving type who focused more
on God's grace and love first, then developing a closer
RELATIONSHIP, and it's that RELATIONSHIP that helps
people NOT TO BREAK RULES. In that order.
Not judging and rejecting first and then expecting
people to follow second.
Hmm, no, there often isn't. Believing you have a personal relationship with a magical skydadday? That is psychosis. Yes, if you insisted to a psychologist that magical sky daddies communicate with you, you would be diagnosed with psychosis.There’s a difference between faith and psychosis.
You are part of the reason so many are lost. Good Allah I despise liberal "christian" churches.Just had to post and share this. Some friends told me they had to work double duty at a weekend event booth, because one of their members went off for SIX HOURS holding up a sign in front of a Preacher who she felt was sending the wrong message about God.
She shared this on facebook and social media, where it was going viral.
I think she should publish this as an editorial, it is so well written yet
stays true to her religious beliefs as a Christian. Very moving and sincere:
It has taken me several days to process and pray through the events of this past weekend. Today I felt the Lord prompt me to share.
Disclaimer: This is a very long post. (Come on, at least act surprised…)
-For my job, we had purchased a vendor booth at the Houston Pride Festival.
We loaded our supplies in early Saturday morning and then returned at 11 to get in position for the event to start a...t noon. When we got there, we were stopped at the entrance and were told no one could come inside until an inspection was completed.
We were five minutes into our wait with the thousands of other people when we heard a voice.
The voice was that of a preacher on a microphone who had set up across the street in a barricaded area. He began screaming while his colleagues held up signs condemning the people at the festival. He yelled at the crowd with all the passion of a Sunday sermon about how disgusting they were, he told them God could not stand them, and repeated more times than my heart could take, “Shame on you!” They preached hatred, fear and condemnation in ways I don’t even want to repeat to you.
I stood in shock for a few minutes and tears began to form in my eyes, my heart was broken. All I could say to my co-worker was, “This isn’t right. That’s not Him.”
I only vaguely remember the next few minutes because my heart was beating out of my chest as I heard God’s voice in my spirit say, “Tell them.”
So, I grabbed any pen I could find in the bag my co-worker was carrying before he had to go inside, took the giant sign I had bought for the show and ran across the street. I set the sign face down to the blank side and asked what to do next. Immediately, I knew God wanted me to write this, something we talk about at our church a lot….“God is not mad at you”
Terrified and shaking, I went in front of the barricade on the sidewalk and stood in front of the men shouting. I turned to the crowd and help up my sign.
What happened over the next 6 hours has changed my heart forever.
I became the target of the preachers.
They quickly began to address me, shouting condemnation at what I was doing, imploring the crowd of thousands over the loud speakers “Do not read the sign this woman is making” (I had found someone with a sharpie to make it darker and wrote over the words again.)
He told them that I was wrong, that God is absolutely mad at them. He spoke shame onto me the way they had done over the crowd.
How dare I tell them God is not angry at them?
As I stood in silence, the other preachers off of the mic stood behind me yelling at my back across the fence throughout the entire day condemning my actions, asking how I could tell them God is not angry with them when He clearly hates sin. Telling me that I was sending them straight to hell.
I tried to drown them out and as I stared off into the crowd, I began to think about my own sin. I thought about the fact that you could change the name of the sin on those signs they were holding to one of my own and scream the same condemnation. How without the blood of Jesus, the same would apply to me.
But oh, how we have forgotten about the power of the blood of the Lamb.
I would be lying if I told you that it didn’t get to me, their screams of hatred hurt my heart in ways I could never explain. I had to quickly message one of my church leaders for prayer and guidance to navigate what was happening.
Those long hours of being yelled at by my own “brothers” has affected me even into this week. But in a way I am so glad I felt it, experienced it because it is NOTHING compared to what these people have gone through in their lifetime, all at the hands of “little Christs.”
But do you know what was happening while they were yelling?
The people were coming.
These beautiful people started to cross the street to come over to me individually, others in small groups.
Young, old, male and female, atheists and struggling christians, parents whose children had just come out to them...
Most came to ask if they could hug me, others to thank me for the sign or to ask me for a picture, many yelling thank you from across the street with the most open and appreciative hearts. But a handful came weeping that day. Weeping before they even reached where I was standing. Weeping because they had never been told God loved them, weeping because they lived their whole lives believing the lie that their fate was guaranteed hell. Having constantly been berated about how angry He was with them, how disgusting they were to Him and how much God hated them. I could barely take it. The honor of hugging these people, of seeing their beautiful faces, the grief of knowing that they had been told and at times believed that God hated them. That my Jesus has rejected them.
My Jesus?
The Jesus that kept His hand on me through blatant rebellion and deep, intentional sin, the Jesus who delivered me from addiction, the Jesus whose kindness has lead me to repentance over and over and over again.
I tried to take mental pictures, to count, anything I could think of to help me remember their beautiful faces but I lost track after 50 in the stream of hugs and tears and I love yous.
Let me tell you, these were some of the most kind hearted people I had ever met in my life. They blessed me, they gave the best hugs, many brought me water throughout the day when they would come to talk, and everyone of them came with the biggest hearts I have ever encountered.
And all the while this was happening, the hatred continued pouring out of the speakers at deafening volumes. A certain christian man would even come over to stand beside me when I would have conversations with some of them and criticize, accusing me of preaching a false Jesus.
A few hours later, the city crew began preparations for the parade that night. Two police officers approached me and said they were blocking everything off but if I wanted to, I was allowed to stand in front of the boundary fencing. So for hours, while every other preaching protester was behind 2 barricades, I was left standing in the rain on the open, empty street able to hold the sign to be seen by the tens of thousands that continued to funneled through the entrance.
I couldn’t muster anything eloquent or churchy or theological that day, I just told each one as we embraced that Jesus loved them and He wanted a relationship with them. To some I heard the Lord tell me to apologize. Because we as Christians have stood before them as representatives of God and said, “He hates you.”
We have spoken for Him with words that are not His own. We have acted as spoiled, entitled children of God instead of humble sons and daughters, who have forgotten how desperately we need Jesus every single day. Forgotten the cost of our own sins.
We have told them that their sin is worse than ours, that they are disgusting, unlovable, abominations. We have screamed it from microphones, communicated it in dirty judgmental looks and quiet conversations asking them to leave our polite little church congregations. We have sang Reckless Love to each other on Sunday then lived out a “religious love” to the world during the week. We put things on people that Jesus shed His own blood to remove from them.
But how will they ever know the love He has for them? How will they ever know the power of the blood available to them when we act as though we can bag it up like some legalistic blood bank and only give it to those we deem well enough or worthy as if we are the dispensers of it?
Guess what? We’re not.
It’s His love, His blood to share at His will and the Bible says He does not desire that ANY should perish.
I wonder though christians, do we really desire the same thing?
-Update: Since sharing this experience online, I have received numerous angry messages from Christians about my “flippant disregard” for acknowledging sin. About us “God is all love” type Christians and the assumption that they know every single thing we believe regarding salvation based acts of love like this one.
To them I say: We hear you. We do believe that [all] sin is serious, we can quote scripture as well, we can (and would love) to have a civilized conversation with you about the subject of sin but quite simply, Love came first.
So, how about we address them in order?
To the LGBTQIA community: On behalf of every Christian that has mistreated you, we are so sorry.
We love you, God loves you. He wants a relationship with you and so do we.
You mean rules written by men claiming to have spoken to or received messages from some ethereal being?^^^ To me, people who have a much more firm grasp on what the Lord's rules happen to be are the better candidates compared to those who only go out there and do whatever the heck they want to with no regard to his word whatsoever.
God bless you always!!!
Holly
I mean rules written by the Lord.
God bless you always!!!
Holly
I asked a simple question.Why am I getting an informative emoticon response to a simple question, emilynghiem?Are you a lesbian looking for acceptance from religious people?Just had to post and share this. Some friends told me they had to work double duty at a weekend event booth, because one of their members went off for SIX HOURS holding up a sign in front of a Preacher who she felt was sending the wrong message about God.
She shared this on facebook and social media, where it was going viral.
I think she should publish this as an editorial, it is so well written yet
stays true to her religious beliefs as a Christian. Very moving and sincere:
It has taken me several days to process and pray through the events of this past weekend. Today I felt the Lord prompt me to share.
Disclaimer: This is a very long post. (Come on, at least act surprised…)
-For my job, we had purchased a vendor booth at the Houston Pride Festival.
We loaded our supplies in early Saturday morning and then returned at 11 to get in position for the event to start a...t noon. When we got there, we were stopped at the entrance and were told no one could come inside until an inspection was completed.
We were five minutes into our wait with the thousands of other people when we heard a voice.
The voice was that of a preacher on a microphone who had set up across the street in a barricaded area. He began screaming while his colleagues held up signs condemning the people at the festival. He yelled at the crowd with all the passion of a Sunday sermon about how disgusting they were, he told them God could not stand them, and repeated more times than my heart could take, “Shame on you!” They preached hatred, fear and condemnation in ways I don’t even want to repeat to you.
I stood in shock for a few minutes and tears began to form in my eyes, my heart was broken. All I could say to my co-worker was, “This isn’t right. That’s not Him.”
I only vaguely remember the next few minutes because my heart was beating out of my chest as I heard God’s voice in my spirit say, “Tell them.”
So, I grabbed any pen I could find in the bag my co-worker was carrying before he had to go inside, took the giant sign I had bought for the show and ran across the street. I set the sign face down to the blank side and asked what to do next. Immediately, I knew God wanted me to write this, something we talk about at our church a lot….“God is not mad at you”
Terrified and shaking, I went in front of the barricade on the sidewalk and stood in front of the men shouting. I turned to the crowd and help up my sign.
What happened over the next 6 hours has changed my heart forever.
I became the target of the preachers.
They quickly began to address me, shouting condemnation at what I was doing, imploring the crowd of thousands over the loud speakers “Do not read the sign this woman is making” (I had found someone with a sharpie to make it darker and wrote over the words again.)
He told them that I was wrong, that God is absolutely mad at them. He spoke shame onto me the way they had done over the crowd.
How dare I tell them God is not angry at them?
As I stood in silence, the other preachers off of the mic stood behind me yelling at my back across the fence throughout the entire day condemning my actions, asking how I could tell them God is not angry with them when He clearly hates sin. Telling me that I was sending them straight to hell.
I tried to drown them out and as I stared off into the crowd, I began to think about my own sin. I thought about the fact that you could change the name of the sin on those signs they were holding to one of my own and scream the same condemnation. How without the blood of Jesus, the same would apply to me.
But oh, how we have forgotten about the power of the blood of the Lamb.
I would be lying if I told you that it didn’t get to me, their screams of hatred hurt my heart in ways I could never explain. I had to quickly message one of my church leaders for prayer and guidance to navigate what was happening.
Those long hours of being yelled at by my own “brothers” has affected me even into this week. But in a way I am so glad I felt it, experienced it because it is NOTHING compared to what these people have gone through in their lifetime, all at the hands of “little Christs.”
But do you know what was happening while they were yelling?
The people were coming.
These beautiful people started to cross the street to come over to me individually, others in small groups.
Young, old, male and female, atheists and struggling christians, parents whose children had just come out to them...
Most came to ask if they could hug me, others to thank me for the sign or to ask me for a picture, many yelling thank you from across the street with the most open and appreciative hearts. But a handful came weeping that day. Weeping before they even reached where I was standing. Weeping because they had never been told God loved them, weeping because they lived their whole lives believing the lie that their fate was guaranteed hell. Having constantly been berated about how angry He was with them, how disgusting they were to Him and how much God hated them. I could barely take it. The honor of hugging these people, of seeing their beautiful faces, the grief of knowing that they had been told and at times believed that God hated them. That my Jesus has rejected them.
My Jesus?
The Jesus that kept His hand on me through blatant rebellion and deep, intentional sin, the Jesus who delivered me from addiction, the Jesus whose kindness has lead me to repentance over and over and over again.
I tried to take mental pictures, to count, anything I could think of to help me remember their beautiful faces but I lost track after 50 in the stream of hugs and tears and I love yous.
Let me tell you, these were some of the most kind hearted people I had ever met in my life. They blessed me, they gave the best hugs, many brought me water throughout the day when they would come to talk, and everyone of them came with the biggest hearts I have ever encountered.
And all the while this was happening, the hatred continued pouring out of the speakers at deafening volumes. A certain christian man would even come over to stand beside me when I would have conversations with some of them and criticize, accusing me of preaching a false Jesus.
A few hours later, the city crew began preparations for the parade that night. Two police officers approached me and said they were blocking everything off but if I wanted to, I was allowed to stand in front of the boundary fencing. So for hours, while every other preaching protester was behind 2 barricades, I was left standing in the rain on the open, empty street able to hold the sign to be seen by the tens of thousands that continued to funneled through the entrance.
I couldn’t muster anything eloquent or churchy or theological that day, I just told each one as we embraced that Jesus loved them and He wanted a relationship with them. To some I heard the Lord tell me to apologize. Because we as Christians have stood before them as representatives of God and said, “He hates you.”
We have spoken for Him with words that are not His own. We have acted as spoiled, entitled children of God instead of humble sons and daughters, who have forgotten how desperately we need Jesus every single day. Forgotten the cost of our own sins.
We have told them that their sin is worse than ours, that they are disgusting, unlovable, abominations. We have screamed it from microphones, communicated it in dirty judgmental looks and quiet conversations asking them to leave our polite little church congregations. We have sang Reckless Love to each other on Sunday then lived out a “religious love” to the world during the week. We put things on people that Jesus shed His own blood to remove from them.
But how will they ever know the love He has for them? How will they ever know the power of the blood available to them when we act as though we can bag it up like some legalistic blood bank and only give it to those we deem well enough or worthy as if we are the dispensers of it?
Guess what? We’re not.
It’s His love, His blood to share at His will and the Bible says He does not desire that ANY should perish.
I wonder though christians, do we really desire the same thing?
-Update: Since sharing this experience online, I have received numerous angry messages from Christians about my “flippant disregard” for acknowledging sin. About us “God is all love” type Christians and the assumption that they know every single thing we believe regarding salvation based acts of love like this one.
To them I say: We hear you. We do believe that [all] sin is serious, we can quote scripture as well, we can (and would love) to have a civilized conversation with you about the subject of sin but quite simply, Love came first.
So, how about we address them in order?
To the LGBTQIA community: On behalf of every Christian that has mistreated you, we are so sorry.
We love you, God loves you. He wants a relationship with you and so do we.
You asked a loaded question tycho1572
which tells me something about how I come across to you.
If you prefer, I can change it to Thank You
if that's more appropriate. Any dialogue and willingness
to ask and discuss is positive and should be encouraged.
Thanks for asking.
It's not me who's shocked and offended that people have different beliefs than I do, Skippy.I didnt ask for them to have my permission,nor would i...daveman, it's too early for a tantrum. Pace yourself.So are you, allegedly. So why are you acting like a spoiled child that people don't seek your permission to have their beliefs?Ooookay, shaman. Did the goddster tell you this by a voice in your head, or was it the special arrangement of your morning cereal?God doesn't feel hate but he does feel pain...
Boy, one can sure get away with saying a lot of nonsensical, laughable things, if he cloaks it in some sort of major religion or prevalent religious belief. Imagine the reaction if I insisted my houseplants love the sinner, hate the sin.
Come on people. This is 2019, and you are adults.
And then the sodomites stole THAT symbolAccording to the Bible God gets “mad” plenty of times when humans sin.
Ever hear of the great flood?
Jesus taught us to reject lies. Teaching boys they can be girls is teaching a lie. Telling people that homosexuality is perfectly normal and okay is a lie.
Jesus was pretty explicit about what happens to liars and those who reject his Word.
After the flood, God put the rainbow in the sky as a sign that He would never do that again.
Do you know what words mean when you use them? I'm not sure you do.So, he's a NICE cosmic dictator. Well, I'm certainly relieved.Gays are sinners.
Priests are sinners.
Straights are sinners.
Schoolteachers are sinners.
Electricians are sinners.
You're a sinner.
I'm a sinner.
EVERYBODY sins. God loves us anyway.
There is where you err. But that's for another thread.Eating shellfish is no longer a sin...and never was for Gentiles. Moasic law done away with by the New Covenant.
You're Biblical illiterate and not to be taken seriously
She lives in her own little world.Let us know if you're uncomfortable with answering my question, emilynghiem.
Well you'd be wrong once again.^^^ I highly doubt that the wine that the Lord drank is the kind of wine that people drink these days.
LOLLike booger-eaters.Ask the goofballs who wrote the bible. If granite is not to be eaten, what is its purpose, then?If shellfish are not to be eaten, what is their purpose then?
By the way, they are here because of natural selection acting upon popluations of their anceators. That is why they are here.
God bless you two always!!!
Holly
