Every Thursday afternoon, a group of moms and their kids comes to my house for beer and conversation (don’t worry, the kids don’t drink the beer). We began “happy hour” several years ago when two moms I knew were taking an Alpha Course at church and wanted to ask questions about what they heard. A Bible study was too intimidating, but a backyard, a bag of chips, and a six pack of beer was safe and familiar. So we let our kids run hog wild through the house, refused to push them on the swings, ignored them unless someone was screaming or bleeding, and debated the trinity, the deity of Christ, human suffering, and a host of Christian hot buttons over glasses of vintage ale.
Sadly ironic, was that these ladies had avoided church because they feared judgment for their questions. Each had known a hellfire and brimstone Christian who had badgered them about their eternal security, insulted their lack of faith, and hassled them about converting. None of these would-be evangelists had managed to communicate that while God is Holy, he is also abundantly full of grace, comfort, and peace. How could I share the grace without without sacrificing or harping on the holy?
Too often, Christians act as if we need to protect God, to defend him against the bad things. We forget that God welcomes doubters, wailers, whiners, skeptics, and liars. God is not the nerdy bespectacled kid on the playground who needs our protection. He knows he is frightening to those who know him. My friends were irreverent and curious, not scared. I was the nervous one, and boldly questioning an Almighty God made me uneasy.
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