A REturn to Faith, How Politics Changed Faith

There’s an old saying…

A religious man goes to church and thinks about fishing. A spiritual man goes fishing… and thinks about God.

Now, I don’t fish, not really. I am a diver. Down there, the rules of the world work differently. Buoyancy quiets the joints and the thoughts.

When I hover over the corals, in this quiet blue space, awe fills me. You know the kind that feels like God is with you, and in you and through you. I remember that line from church. Some Sundays, I miss how the old version of my faith used to feel when I was younger. There were many times I felt incredibly close to him, I used to say, Real Life Jesus. Safe. Held. Connected.

I also went through a particularly memorable time where I thought God worked like some kind of cosmic Santa Claus. If I was a good girl, I’d get blessings, and if I was a naughty girl, I’d get problems. That flavor of faith, the kind without Grace...that is a Faith that relies on control and manipulation. Not for me. That's not who Jesus is.

In reality, my faith journey has been a back-and-forth, push-and-pull kind of thing for most of my life. But it’s always been important to me.

I tiptoed into church leadership in my 30's. That view behind the curtain, into the “business” of church, sent me away for quite a few years. It is heartbreaking to see 'church' get tangled up in politics and power. And in recent months, it's become extreme. How can you talk about family and a meaningful faith journey while voting against healthcare and food stamps. I don't know for sure, but I'd bet Jesus would be pretty upset. His directive on such things was super clear. In fact, the ONLY time the man lost his temper that I am aware of was a the money hungry grifters and power brokers of the day. (just sayin)

I don’t know about you, but I find the subject of hypocrisy—especially when it’s wrapped in faith—deeply painful.

And that old saying, “the church is not a home for saints, it’s a hospital for sinners”? It doesn’t quite land for me when those same sinners are propping up political philosophies that actively harm those we were told to care for. This feels to me like the farthest thing from Christian conservative values I can imagine. And it hurts.

Like a lot of people in my generation, I drifted. Not because I stopped loving Jesus. But because the church started to feel like a place he would be disappointed in. And in my opinion, politics change faith.

But, what’s interesting is, lately I’ve been watching my son and his young family find a new church home. They’re falling in love with Jesus. I have been surprised at how deeply that moved me, actually. I recognize the power and I remember the weight and comfort what they’re experiencing. That relationship, that anchor, that is steady presence when life is hard and people are fragile and hurting. I remember that Jesus too. The one I talked to as a young woman. The one I cried to when I thought I’d ruined everything (again). The one who met me right in the middle of my mess.

These days, I’m thinking a lot about how many of us didn’t walk away from Jesus, we walked away from what came after. We got disillusioned with the institutions.

I look at policies that hurt the poor, and we make excuses about why it's ok. Let's gaslight the weak. I see exclusion being framed as moral clarity. And I don’t recognize the Jesus I love in any of it. The Jesus I know fed the hungry, healed the sick, and welcomed outsiders without making them prove they were worthy first.

That’s the Jesus I still believe in. And that’s the faith I’m returning to.