My (unchurched) adult son stood up for Jesus and Scripture

“When you love a child, you do not deal in reasonable probabilities. You deal in dreadful possibilities, which spool from your mind in repeating loops like the worst stories on the news.” The Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor wrote that in 2014, but it seems even more relevant now when each day’s news is more disturbing than the one before.

I grew up in the 1950’s when we practiced those hide-under-your-desk bomb drills. I came of age during the Vietnam War. My own children grew up in the 1970’s when many still feared mass annihilation and the littlest ones still asked, “Who will take care of me?” if their parents were killed and they survived a nuclear holocaust.

And yet throughout it all, I somehow managed to feel safe. When I was a child, my parents were consistently loving, present, and calm. Church was woven into our lives, and the watercolor of an angel that hung by my bed reassured me that a guardian angel watched over me. That childhood faith grew up with me, and though there have been times when I’ve been furious with God, I’ve never doubted God’s existence.

As I’ve said before, my own children spent so much time at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Ft. Collins, Colorado when they were growing up that it became a second home. I like to think that’s why they were spared some of the terrors their peers experienced in those vulnerable years.

But the honest and painful truth is that, except for weddings and funerals, my children have chosen not to attend church since they left home.

So I’ve worried how my now 40-something sons and their unchurched children can cope with all the “dreadful possibilities” that unspool daily in the news, without reliance on God’s presence in their lives.

What good did all that church-going do if they left it all behind?

And then last week my younger son posted on Facebook an impassioned defense of faithful Christianity:

What Christianity is SUPPOSED to be is the following of the teachings of Jesus. And Jesus wouldn’t turn his back on a refugee, he wouldn’t hate somebody because of who they are or what they do, nor would he ever turn anybody away.

Jesus told us to love our neighbors, and to turn the other cheek. He told us “Judge not lest ye be judged.” Seems pretty self explanatory there.

At the same time, he would not stand idly by while somebody was persecuted – he would get in the way.

In fact, the only time that Jesus lost his sh**, it was directed at the money lenders.

Think about that…

I was raised in a Christian household. I was never taught to hate in church, but to love. I was never taught to judge in church, but to accept, even if I didn’t agree. I was never taught we needed to suppress others who disagree with our own beliefs or who hold different beliefs – I was taught to accept.

I have two young daughters. I would, if I somehow had the ability, meet every single immigrant, every single refugee, every single foreigner coming to make the United States their new home. I would shake every hand, I would introduce my daughters to them, I would say “Welcome to your new home. Welcome to the United States where you’re free to believe in your religion, where you’re free to worship however you see fit, where you aren’t judged, persecuted, or in danger for your life. Welcome.”

I do not fear the refugees or the immigrants.

Nor should you. If you’re Christian, ask yourself, truly, What Would Jesus Do? Would he build a wall? Would he threaten deportation? Would he display hate toward those in need?

God is love. Jesus is love.

It’s right there in the Bible.

I was stunned. I had no idea the depth of his faith or his passion for the Way of Jesus.

So I write this post to say to those of you raising children in the faith during these tumultuous times: keep it up. It may not seem to matter when they go away to college or to work, but no longer to church, but it does matter. It does.

It gave Micah the words and the stories to be able to respond to the “worst stories on the news” with faith and courage.

It has given him a framework in which to raise his own children, my grandchildren.