Good heavens, you're annoying! 1

If you say, "I know I'm just as big a sinner, but . . ." before you criticize someone or "I'm going to burn in Hell!" after you make a catty remark, you just might be an annoying Christian.

My Life as a Pharisee

My Life as a Pharisee

After Judas Iscariot, the Pharisees are probably the people in the Bible we most love to hate. They represent the status quo (which wasn't all that bad for them, but was for most of the Jews living under the Roman empire). They nit-picked over silly laws: you could give your cattle food and water on the Sabbath, but you couldn't heal people. And don't forget to tithe your spices! They liked to dress up and get the best seats at religious services and banquets.

Even things that seem good take on a bad tone in the hands of the Pharisees. You would think that it's admirable to be grateful for your life and the opportunities you've had, like the Pharisee in Luke (Luke 18:9-14), but never thank God that you are better (less sinful) than a crooked tax collector. Even if the Pharisees say the right things, they don't practice them. Matthew said they were “like whitewashed tombs, beautiful on the outside, but full of dead men's bones.” (Matthew 23:27-28)

And today, don't thank God that you are better than the Pharisees! We practice or are afflicted with Churchianity, which is to Christianity what the Pharisees' Templeism was to Judaism, obsession with trappings and status and non-spiritual church problems, as anyone who has ever been asked to move from someone's pew or who has witnessed a vestry meeting can tell you. (I have had both of these experiences.) And even if we know how we're supposed to behave, we don't always. This is putting it kindly. A less kindly way to put it is that we're hypocrites.

Naturally, no one wants to admit to being a Pharisee. But there are plenty of people eager to point your Churchianity out to you, Why aren't you having homeless people over for dinner? Why don't you see that Ann Coulter or Bernie Sanders or the bitch or son of one who stole your significant other is as much a beloved child of God as you are and deserves to be treated as such? Why do you always try to get a front row seat at Christian rock concerts? (That all the other Christians are doing it is not a valid defense.)

This is hard enough to take, even when we know deep down it's true.  But even worse is the criticism from the “spiritual but not religious” people, who find God in places other than church. They can't understand why anyone would want to sit in a building that either freezes or roasts them, be bored at best or guilt tripped at worst and be asked for money to pay for it all. If you need a Coffee Hour donut that badly, the bakery is probably closer than the church.

Obviously, if you need organized religion, there is something wrong with you and you need counseling or maybe just a life. They, on the other hand, don't need anything.

I admit that I am a sinner. (And a big“You're welcome” to everyone who just said, “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”) And I know that in God's eyes my sins are as bad as those of a drug dealer or hit person, but I am very thankful that they are easier to commit.

And, I admit that I like the fact that I know what “substitutional atonement,” “undercroft,” and “narthex” mean. There has to be some upside to being a church geek or, like me, a very much in progress one. I'm aware that this pride is one of my convenient-to-commit sins.

And I admit . . . no, I declare that for me, church is one of the best places to find God. I love the music, the stained glass, the candles, the liturgy, even the sermon. I'd love the incense, too, if my priest would let us use it. And I love the socializing and the“feeling of community.”

Maybe the Pharisees felt the same way. Maybe they too were trying to find God. Maybe they were beloved children of God who were really messing up. (Maybe?)

The point of this post (Or is it a rant?) is not to defend the Pharisees. The point – at least the one I want to make, which may not be the point you get, which is fine – is that “church people” are going to get flack for being church people. Maybe our critics find us frightening.(Again, maybe?) Maybe they think we are ruining Christianity. But that's OK. We are not conducting our spiritual lives to get other people's approval, just as they are not trying to get our approval.

So serve on the committees, eat the donuts, make your special chili for the potluck (or bring your favorite “store cookies”), sing the hymns, and have your Kleenex ready for the parts of the service that always get you. Hang out with the church geeks and enjoy some  so-bad-they're-good puns. Just remember, these are details that you can use to get closer to God, not ends in themselves, and that this is not the only way to do it.

God may think, “For a Christian, you are really messing up.” And then He (or She) will say, “But I love you anyway.”

As your first step on the path to church geekism, dazzle your friends by knowing the difference between Pharisees and Sadducees!