Something to Read

Jeffrey Overstreet’s most recent Film Forum has some interesting things to say on the Christian “ghetto” mindset that so often pervades “Christian” art (as well as most other areas of life). And if you’ve read Opus for any length of time, I hope you’d have figured out that this something that I personally wrestle with, and find it necessary to wrestle with, both as an artist and as one who writes about the arts. In the article, Overstreet links to two other excellent articles (here and here) that also grapple with this issue.

And the segue…

Recently, I’ve found myself wrestling with the idea that God has just decided to leave me to my own devices (a frightening thought the more I think about it). Such doubt is nothing new. It’s always something that seems natural — probably due to all of that cynicism I picked up in high school — but the doubts have seemed especially potent in the past two weeks. I’ve had no real desire to engage in any “Christian” activities, i.e. reading my Bible, praying, going to church, or even really talking to any other Christians (or anyone for that matter). Anytime I try to do something, the cynicism/fear take over and that part of me just shuts down.

In fact, the wedding rehearsal I attended tonight was the first time I’ve had fellowship with a moderately large congregation of “likeminded” believers in a long time. It was certainly the first time I’d heard anyone pray (including myself) in a long time, and that really struck me. Or rather, it was the way they prayed.

I’ve always hated the casual, offhanded way in which most modern Christians refer to God, as if He was an old college roommate or childhood buddy. There seems to be very little reverence, very little awe in such communication. I hate the treacly songs we sing on Sunday mornings. We use words like “I want to know You/I want see Your face/I want to know You more,” but we’d probably shit our pants and turn ourselves inside-out with terror if that really happened. In the Bible, Christ calls us “friends,” but a “friendly” God doesn’t seem capable of helping me through these moments.

But there is a part of me that wants my “relationship” with God to function on a “friendly” basis. It’s hard to really feel like a God deserving only of reverence is capable of showing compassion, and sometimes that’s all I want. I wish I could stop thinking about it so damn much, that I could read something in the Bible, take it at face value, and get comfort. I wish I could raise my hands up, smile, and just switch on the “joy” of Christianity. Instead I just stand there, (sometimes) mouthing the words, and wondering if I somehow skipped some integral step when I got “saved.”

I sat there tonight, listening to this prayer that referred to God as “Father,” that thanked Him for mundane little things, that spoke to Him like He was right there in the room, sitting at the table, about to eat with us. No fear, no reverence, no awe… just camaraderie. A camaraderie that I seem to have in short supply these days.