Real Hope: Difficult Conversationsنموونە

Choice And Response

‘Oh, you’re an actual Christian?’ He looked at me, shock rippling across his face. ‘Oh, I feel so sorry for you.’

My left eyebrow popped up in annoyance as I prepared to pounce in defence when the Holy Spirit reminded me that I shouldn’t be offended by the mockery in his comment because it wasn’t about me. This was someone who had been hurt in some way by the church and I wasn’t about to add to his list of reasons as to why Christians should be pitied. Instead, I asked him why he felt that way. He didn’t want to get into it. So out of respect I let it slide and moved the conversation on.

I’m not one to shy away from a difficult conversation anymore because I’ve stopped expecting myself to have an answer for every uncomfortable question or comment. The Bible doesn’t expect it from me, God doesn’t expect it from me, so why do I expect it of myself? I can’t explain the suffering in the world. I can’t explain why bad things happen to good people. And I certainly can’t explain why people who claim to love God can be so judgemental and unkind.

What I now choose to do is use the tools God has given me and enter in to the difficult conversation with sympathy and empathy. I can’t answer every difficult question thrown my way or provide a sound theological argument for every tough topic, but I can sit in the mess of it and agree that it is, in fact, messy. And when I’m asked the one question I’m required to have an answer to – ‘Why do you believe in Jesus?’ – I choose to be honest. Because without a faith in a power that sits above the mess when I don’t understand it or can’t find an answer to it, the world is too much a dark place. My faith is my answer to the darkness.

Written by NERI MORRIS