I had an interesting question the other day: are Christians good?
The subject came up because there is a defense offered by some Christians (and some people outside the faith, I imagine) that we Christians are “good” by dint of the Savior redeeming us from sin. We are given a new, God-inspired and -directed nature. Our sins and our past are washed way into the sea of forgiveness. We have God’s very Spirit in us to remind us and prompt us and even empower us. We can move through love into the Kingdom…
All the theology comes to mind, and I could write like this for a long time without repeating myself.
But still I wonder…
I wonder because, first of all, I consider myself to be a Christian, in several senses of that description. I attend a church, I read the scriptures, I refrain (mostly) from swearing, I donate money to my church, and for a long time I voted Republican. (Don’t laugh. This was a big part of it.) I had no hatred for anyone, of course, and I had gentle remonstrances against those who said that to be Christian meant to fight against the things that Christ fought against. There are other things I do that mark me as Christian: I pray, I share, I follow Christ—where he goes, I try to go and keep up.
All good things.
But do they make me good, and am I good for doing them?
I don’t know.
Maybe that’s not the point.
I can say this: I follow Christ where he leads me and challenges me. The issue of whether I’m good is probably irrelevant.
I think the issue comes up, though, because (in my opinion) people think that Christians are good people, and so good people are Christians.
I don’t think either is necessarily true.
For one, right in the beginning Jesus was noted (and denounced) for comporting with wicked people, including sex workers and tax collectors, barkeeps and Sabbath-breakers. The least, the lost, the lonely, the left behind. People who made choices to do the wrong things, again and again, at least by the light of the “good people.” Christianity in the beginning collected all the awful people who were broken enough to need a Savior.
Christians aren’t good people. They’re people who are missing vital parts of a healthy soul, or broken in their spirit, or damaged and twisted and hurt, who limp along until they find a Helper who loves them and carries them along the journey. From what I can see in real life, Christians comprise the people who simply want, need, and embrace salvation in humility.
And of course, good people aren’t Christians. By that I mean that it is possible to be good and kind, humble and just, careful and honest—and you do not need Christ in order to do so. I have many, many friends in this world, many who do not claim Christ. They are good people who do good things. I’m going to stand alongside them because we’re united in our love of honesty and justice and kindness. It’s irrelevant to me whether they’re theologically aligned with me or whether they’re acceptable to society.
The question really is irrelevant, in my book, whether Christians are “good.”
What matters, to me, is the embrace of Christ by Christians. Christ-followers follow Christ. (I know. A tautology. I am smart even though I lack smarts.)
It is a dance, not a ticket you get punched as you complete your tasks and obligations. Prayed-check. Tithed-check. Sat in church-check. Spoke about Jesus-check. Check-check-check.
It is a dance because we, as individuals and as a community, are learning how to handle the tension between the God who enables us to do good, and our selves that must choose and then do good.
I dance with the Lord. I dance with someone who enables me and helps me and challenges me and reminds me and rebukes me. I can do better. I can be kinder. I can love more. I can listen carefully. I can follow Christ. And in my dance I can do the things that emulate what Jesus does.
I’m not here to say I’m “good” or that everyone who’s not a Christian is “bad.”
I’m here to do what I can and help where I can. I’m here to follow my elders and teachers and inspirations, and I’m here do go into the trenches and dig out the buried and the broken and the beaten. Not worry about whether I’m doing good or being good.
I’m just here to dance.