reflections on a Christian life

On Friday we rented the movie Philomena. For those of you who are still waiting for it to show up on the streaming Netflix listing, here is your spoiler alert.

In the climax of the movie, Sister Hildegarde, the old nurse who was responsible for delivering Philomena’s baby and keeping Philomena from ever being reunited with her son who had been sold in adoption, unrepentantly reveals her heart. Hildegarde declares that whereas she kept herself chaste her whole life, Philomena had committed fornication so she and her child were deserving of punishment.

Hildegarde is looking for fairness in life and recognition for her perseverance. It is easy for me to identify with her struggle. I grew up in the church absorbing a mix of moral teaching and warnings to avoid transgression.

One of the earliest songs taught in Sunday school had the lines, “be careful little hands what you do, be careful little mouths what you say, be careful little feet where go”. There was also a line about the “Father up above looking down in love”, so it must have been hitting the shame button rather than the guilt button. I got the message: don’t screw up.

A particular Bible quote burned into my memory was “be sure your sin will find you out.” Other passages were more challenging to sort out: “The Lord is slow to anger, abounding in love and forgiving sin and rebellion. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation.” Did that mean that even though you were forgiven you were going to be punished?

Needless to say, I was sufficiently aware that I was supposed to do my darnedest to avoid sin. But there were supposedly upsides: Long life was promised if I obeyed my parents and the book of Proverbs was full of illustrations of the benefits of clean living. Rumor had it that there was also an award ceremony in heaven- kind of like handing out Sunday school pins. Those of us who were not only “saved” but also accumulated good deeds on earth would get crowns or something.

All of this great awareness helped shape my behavior and choices.   I tried to stay out of detention in school and steer clear of parties where I might be “tempted”.   Of course if I did slip up I felt that much worse for it (Remember that “Father looking down in love”?   Who needs the NSA?).

To order my world I built the following rationalization: People who pulled pranks, danced, tried drugs or sex, and drove their cars fast were not having fun- even though they related the stories as if they really thought they were having fun. Those of us who did the right thing and stayed home from the dances, turned down the joint, kept to the speed limit were having real fun even though we didn’t feel like it.

Every now and then there would be someone who would cross over from the darkness to the light and get “saved”. They would attempt to reinforce our view of things through sharing their story or “testimony”. The testimony would titillate the listener with a captivating retelling of what was like to enjoy the “pleasures of the world” reassuring us these things were not really fun (I keep thinking of Peter Boyle at the pulpit of the African American Church in the movie “Dream Team”). After thrilling us with the tale of their walk on the wild side, they would share how they now see things differently and wish they never did the things they had. We would leave the meeting remarking on what a “great” testimony that was. “Great” meant, “Wow, God had power to rescue them from even all that fun!” Of course, if I gave my testimony it wouldn’t be labeled “great”. I never set off a ladyfinger without supervision and you wouldn’t catch me stepping on the hose at the gas station to set off the bell. On giving my testimony I would typically get reassurances that I was protected from a lot of things so I should be thankful.

I mean that was the way it was supposed to work. Those sins left scars and did damage. I was supposed to be better off for not having given in. If someone fried their brain on drugs or smacked into a tree while speeding and later came to Christ, they still had to live with the affects of their sin. That’s how the world operated. God would not undo what was done or make it all better. My responsibility toward that person was to help them to make the best of things and to encourage them that Jesus was able to use their testimony to convince others to turn their life around so those persons wouldn’t suffer that fate- or at least that they were able to remind me that I should feel grateful to have avoided that pain. As for those who appeared to have gotten away with their “crime against God”: shoplifted without getting caught, had sex without pregnancy, smoked without contracting cancer, well, they had damage too even if it didn’t appear so.

Now I was not trapped in legalism. I understood forgiveness and grace and that salvation was not earned. So what was it that I was missing and what was Sister Hildegarde missing?

I think it was the second commandment of Christ: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” If I loved my neighbor as myself, I would suffer with their suffering, celebrate with their joy and work for their good with the same passion and energy I have for my own. I would not be sorting out who has received more from God whether it is more forgiveness or more blessings. And I would never accept that the kingdom of darkness deserves a single triumph in this world.