I'm a Christian and I'm Sorry.

WOW! It's been over a year since I've written on here, maybe more like two. So much has happened not the least of which is I graduated from college, but I'll have to update later. Hopefully this will become more of a regular thing, but if youre reading this don't hold your breath. Right now though I have a poem that I heard the other day by Chris Tse who is a poet from Canada I believe. It's pretty good and worth a read or a listen, or both. WARNING: Tse does drope the "F" bomb two or three times, and while probally not needed does get the point across. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I would love to hear what you have to say about this so please comment. I originally heard about this from ragamuffinsoul.com which is Carlos Whitaker's blog there are some great conversations going in the comments there that might be worth a look as well.




I am a Christian.
I’m sorry

I’m sorry for the way that I come across
So fair and fake friendly and full on my self so judging your spiritual health by the words that you say and the way that you dress and the things that you do
Or maybe just judging you

I’m sorry for the way that I live my life.
So confident of my own beliefs that I would never think to think about thinking about yours

I’m sorry for the wars
Iron clad crusaders mounting steeds and drawing swords with such spirit
but if the spirit spoke they wouldn't hear it for you see the sword of the Spirit was not a sword
but the word was with God and the word was God and they preached this as they marched on the holy land.
Singing and praying
And killing and slaying.
And purging and healing
And raping and stealing.
It’s ironic that they lined their pockets in the name of God
Just like the priests who lined their pockets in the name of God.
Just like the people you can’t stand because they always raise their hand and spread their faith and hate and judgment in the name of God.
I’m sorry that I take the God's name in vain – or rather I’m sorry that I stain the name of God. Defending my selfish actions and selfless actions pertaining to the will of God.

I’m sorry for being intolerant.
For trying to talk down to you, for trying to talk over you, for not letting you talk.

I’m sorry for not walking the walk. For being a hypocritical critical Christian. Criticizing your pagan lifestyle while my own lifestyle styles itself like the televangelist’s hair. All slick and sly and slippery its a silver syllable slidethat wait until you hear well seebut that’s my greatest fear.
That the steps I take won’t match the words I speak so when I speak all you hear of me is a weak hypocritical critical Christian. Doing one thing and saying another. Loving my friend but hating my brother – it’s a show.

I’m sorry I get drunk on Saturday’s and go to church on Sunday’s to pray for my friends who get drunk on Saturday’s.
And on that note I’m sorry for making the church about the pews and the cross and the walls and the steeple, because the building is not the church; the church is the people.

I’m sorry that I hate you because you are gay.
I’m sorry I condemn you to hell because you’re gay instead of loving I jump to hatred. Mouth open and tongue preaching, eyes open but not seeing that you are the same as me just a F****** human being.

I’m sorry that I only hang out with Christian friends and we only do nice Christian things like pot luck dinners and board game nights. While in the night a man beats his girlfriend again. Another homeless man dies again. Is this the that my own pride has been but here I am with my same friends again but see what I always forget is that Jesus didn’t come to hang out with the priests and the lords, no. He hung out with cripples and beggars and whores.

Love.

I’m sorry for history. For native tribes wiped out in the name of the church. Lodges burning. Stomachs churning and yearning for justice as mothers, screaming and bleeding, pleading for their young ones are dragged away to church schools where they were abused.

I’m sorry for the way that I refuse to learn your culture, instead I just came to spread the gospel - and the plague.

I’m sorry that I stand at the front doors of abortion clinics screaming at fifteen-year-old girls as they enter instead of waiting at the back door to hug them as they leave.

I’m sorry for taking my wars and my faith to your lands when historically your lands is where my faith was born. And in the face of the storm I realize that if God is Allah and Allah is God then why are we shooting instead of sharing? Why are we launching instead of learning? Why are we warring instead of walking together? Why are we taking instead of talking together? Why are we bombing instead of breaking bread together as brothers? You see I think God looks down and He’s sad. And from His right hand throne above, Jesus asks “where is the love?” And if it takes Wil.I.Am and Justin Timberlake asking the same question for us to start asking the same question then where the f*** are we headed?

So I will take this stage to be my chapel and this mic to my confession booth, and in the presence of God and of you, the blessed, I confess I am a Christian. I’m sorry.

- A poem by Chris Tse