Some of the nicest people I’ve known have been non-Christians. Just sayin’.
Oh, I’ve known some pretty mean, crappy non-Christians, too–make no mistake. But I’ve also known unbelievers who were genuinely nice, friendly, welcoming people–people who often acted more like Jesus than a lot of Christians I know.
When I was young(er), I spent some time selling pianos for a music store in a Cincinnati mall. In the guitar department, I remember this long-haired, chain-smoking, guitar-playing rock & roll dude. If you weren’t part of that culture, his look alone would be enough to frighten you. Nicest guy you’d ever want to meet–would bend over backwards to help you out. We talked and laughed about all kinds of things, and over time I managed to earn enough of his trust that when his wife walked out on him, he sought me out for prayer and counsel because he knew I was a Christian. When you’re standing in a dark storage room with a rock & roll dude who smells like smoke, holding hands and praying while tears stream down his face, you feel like you’re making a difference. I still miss talking to that guy–not because he made me feel important or anything, but just because he was a good guy.
When I got “born-again” as a kid, I was serious about my faith beyond my years. But I also developed this simplistic, childlike expectation that every Christian would be generally nice, friendly, loving, happy–you know, kind of like it might be in heaven. I mean, if Jesus did all this great stuff in your life, I’d think you’d have a pretty cool temperament. (I don’t know why it never occured to me that I didn’t always act that way.)
Growing up in several churches in California, for the most part, the Christians didn’t let me down. Oh, everyone had their moments, but it seemed, at least on the outside, like people were generally good-natured overall. Maybe some of it was fake, I don’t know. But it was enough to keep my illusions alive.
My first wake-up call was the first time I lived in Tulsa, when I was in college at Oral Roberts University. Tulsa had been built up to me as this sort of Christian “Mecca”, a hot-spot for Christian activity and teaching. And I had grown up wanting to go to ORU because I believed if it was populated by Christians, it must be a utopian society where everyone is happy and everyone loves each other and nobody has any problems. (I’m chuckling as I write this.)
It didn’t take long for my illusions to be dashed. I found a number of professing Christians, both on and off campus, who were downright unpleasant. It seemed like I found more and more of them the longer I was there–until it almost became like if I saw someone scowling, I would assume they were a Christian.
Even now, living in this area the second time, I see it. Not every Christian acts that way, but there is almost a giveaway look, an unpleasant grimace, that makes me assume that person is a churchgoing Christian. Isn’t that a horrible thing to say? And it isn’t just Tulsa; I’ve lived in five different states in my adult life, and now that I know “the attitude”, I can see it pretty easily. And if it isn’t a scowl…it’s the arrogant, superior way that person carries himself/herself. Also not pretty to watch.
So why is it that non-Christians can sometimes act more Christlike than Christians do? I think there are several reasons, and I hope to cover them in future posts. (C.S. Lewis has some good thoughts on this also in Mere Christianity.) But for now, let me say that I have seen a higher concentration of this unpleasantness among Christians in places where the Christians are concentrated together and more isolated from the world around them. Water that collects in one place and doesn’t move…stagnates. That’s one reason why I think I’ve seen this stronger in Tulsa than in other places. I think when we congregate together and separate from the world, we stop having a proper outflow for our faith, and things get sort of constipated. That’s enough to make anyone grumpy.
It seems Christians really need a healthy balance between having community together and regular contact with the unbeliever. Whether you’re a Christian or not, maybe you have some thoughts on this. Spill it.
More later…
Wayward Son
Musician. Composer. Recovering perfectionist. Minister-in-transition. Lover of puns. Hijacker of rock song references. Questioner of the status quo.
I'm not really a rebel. Just a sincere Christ-follower with a thirst for significance that gets me into trouble. My quest has taken me over the fence of institutional Christianity. Here are some of my random thoughts along the way. Read along, join in the conversation. Just be nice.
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I think that certain Christian sects.. especially the Charismatic Fundamentalists.. like the ones at ORU.. seem to have a bit of a superiority complex.. I know that was my story at one time. It is sad because this type of fundamentalism breeds judgmentalism.
I agree – some of the nicest people I know would never step foot inside a church.
One of the best things I’ve seen that completely illustrates this is the movie Saved!. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a very funny and eye-opening look at Christianity. I love the part where the “superior” Christian (Mandy Moore) throws a bible at a girl and screams “I am FULL of Christ’s love!”. It says so much.
I blogged on this Christian Superiority Complex a while ago – it’s here if you want to read it.
KB,
I enjoyed reading your link and learning more of your story. Thank you for sharing it. Interestingly, the public image of ORU is not a completely accurate picture of the students or the faculty. When I was a student there, at least, there was a wide range of background and belief, not just the charismatic versions. Numerous faculty members were NOT charismatic, and many did not subscribe to Oral Roberts’ brand of theology, either. It was actually the first place where I learned to have respect for others who believed things differently than I did.
dc,
I appreciated reading your link as well. Thanks. I haven’t seen Saved!, but I recently have seen some movies I previously avoided because I thought they were anti-Christian–and I was suprised at the truth behind their message.
May I confess to the fact that in general I don’t really like Christians much?
Most of my key friends aren’t Christian and they affirm me – and, oddly, my vocation.
I really don’t get it and struggle with it a lot.
I may post on it one day.
Good point Jeff. I think that I was thinking of the other Chaismatic Fundamentalists in the Tulsa area.
Happy Saturday!