The cross I want the world to see

As many of you know, I always read newspaper comics. I check in daily with Snoopy and the gang, Luann, Mutts, Blondie, and Beetle Bailey. It feels right to start my day with a bit of humor and a prayer or two. Occasionally, cartoons inspire ideas for my columns or are so poignant and meaningful that they stop me in my tracks.

The other day, Ray Billingsley, the creator of the cartoon “Curtis,” turned his artistry into a Bible lesson. I love “Curtis,” which features a young Black preteen living in the inner city with his mom, dad, and little brother. The boys often fight, the dad complains, and mom always plays the role of the lovely peacemaker and fried chicken specialist.

Mr. Billingsley’s own childhood memories likely inspire these fun family stories.

In a recent strip, Curtis is sitting on the steps of a brownstone in his neighborhood, eating a bag of potato chips. A woman approaches him with her hands on her hips and angrily asks, “What are you doing on my stoop selling drugs?!” Curtis nervously replies, “I-I’m just eating potato chips.” The woman responds, “That’s what a dealer would say! Go sell your drugs elsewhere before I call the police—or worse, your mother!”

Curtis then runs away and turns to the reader, saying, “Notice she was wearing a cross around her neck?”

It’s one thing to wear a cross around our neck. It’s another to carry its message in our hearts. It’s easy to claim the label of “Christian,” but much more challenging to live with humility, grace, and mercy.

One of the saddest things I’ve witnessed is not someone turning away from Christianity but rather someone turning away from faith because of Christians.

My grandmother, a devoted Christian woman, often called those who use faith to benefit themselves “The High and Mighty.” I understood what she meant when she used the phrase. The High and Mighty believe they are better Christians than others. She reminded me, “You know, honey, faith isn’t about the preachin’, it’s about livin’ like Jesus.”

When we turn folks away from Him in any way, we should take our High and Mighty selves out to the woodshed, close the door, and let the Lord deal with us. It won’t be pretty, but perhaps it will heal our souls.

Long ago, when I was in my teens, a young girl bore a baby out of wedlock. She was shamed by several of her friends’ mothers who were all Christians. But my mother said to me, “She is just the one that got caught, that’s all. She will suffer but should never be condemned, nor should she be judged.” Mom could always see two sides to everyone’s story. Compassion and kindness are the cornerstones of Christianity.

I’ve lived long enough to know Christians won’t always agree. We never have. We see Scripture differently at times. We vote differently. We worship differently. But disagreement was never meant to become divisive hatred. Somewhere along the way, too many of us begin measuring faith by the volume of our opinions instead of the depth of our compassion.

I often wonder what people outside the church perceive when they look at us.  Do they see individuals eager to win arguments, or do they see those willing to wash someone’s feet?  Do they hear condemnation first, or do they hear compassion? I hope they see Jesus.  Unfortunately, I’m afraid that too often, they only see us.

It breaks my heart when the name of Christ is used to divide, judge, or gain power. When we use Christianity to advance ourselves instead of reflecting Christ, something precious is lost.

If my faith causes people to feel bruised instead of comforted, suspicious instead of hopeful, or divided instead of loved, maybe I should focus less on defending God and more on truly following Him. Faith was never meant to be a weapon; it was meant to be a light.  We should use our faith to heal, love, and provide hope rather than to destroy.

We can have differing opinions and debate the interpretation of God’s words, but how can we claim to love God while simultaneously despising those made in His image? How can we look down on others, take pleasure in tearing them apart, or believe ourselves to be superior to them, all the while professing our faith?

When I see Christians using faith to light a hateful path, it hurts my soul. Then I remember the One who healed the broken, touched the untouchable, forgave the guilty, and loved those everyone else had written off.

That’s the cross I want the world to see.

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Lynn Walker Gendusa began her writing career as a columnist for the LaGrange News. Today, her essays are featured regularly throughout Georgia and Tennessee. She can be reached at www.lynngendusa.com. For more of her inspirational stories, click here.