Reflection on Christian experience

I’ve seen some posts calling out Christians (in a USA context, it may apply abroad) - specifically how in today’s time, Evangelical Christians often group together on the right-wing side of politics.

(This is long, see closing thoughts for TLDR)

Of course, and many who take time to understand the Bible and the Gospel, will understand that Jesus was really proclaiming peace and selfless love for others. This lies in opposition to the Evangelical of today, who cares about class, identity, hierarchy, tradition, and power consolidation.

I am still new to Socialism and my overall leftist ideologies, so please critique and point out logical fallacies if present.

Here is a short story of an experience I had on a mission trip, that I feel sums up today’s disparity between followers of Jesus’ words and modern day Christians. I hope you enjoy.

A little story:

(LCMS) Years ago, I went on a mission trip with a church group to a different state. Halfway through the trip, we had an evening service at the “HQ” church. The sermon that evening was focused on John 13 - when Jesus washed the disciples feet - would recommend reading it if anyone hasn’t.

The pastor stops reading after a few chapters in. He kicks a clear tub of bright orange towels out from behind the lectern and announces, “alright everyone, go into your groups and wash someone’s feet”.

The very second he closes his lips, a laughter erupts from each and every preteen to high school senior. They all thought washing feet was funny, unserious, crass. The grief I feel in that moment was immeasurable. Over and over I thought to myself “Aren’t we supposed to be Christians?” (Mostly everyone here was affiliated with an LCMS School or church)

Myself and 3 others in that room were the few that were not Caucasian. I did not go to private Christian schools like everyone else had. Look only a few generations back, and you’ll see my great-great-grandmother as a slave in the south. The complexity and dreadful irony I felt will never leave my memory.

In my group, I chose to wash a mid 40 year old woman’s feet, because I assumed that someone older would take this seriously. I went ahead and washed, trying to stay focused on Jesus’ message from John 13. What was supposed to be a beautiful moment of reflection and study was now of shame and near-cringe.

Afterwards, we were directed by the pastor to meet in our group rooms to have our evening talk, which was routine. I sat myself at the head of a long office table as all group members filter in. My group leader starts “Highs-and-Lows” (what was the high of your day and what was the low).

At my turn, I (paraphrasing from memory) expressed that I had no ‘High’ for today. I told them all how ashamed and hurt I was, that I came all this way wanting to serve others and grow in faith just to have other self proclaimed Christians laugh at the very same text that I set my full, intentional faith in. My heart was heavy as stone; I began to sob.

In this moment of pain, I pondered on Jesus. How did Jesus feel when he wept? The savior of humanity being rejected by his own people (Luke 19).

Abruptly, I stopped crying. My sorrow quickly became joy. A wind of peace and assurance blew over my body, telling me “this is what it’s about”. True Unconditional Love for your neighbors is Jesus’ ethos. (To this day I believe the Holy Spirit was with me during this time). Never in my life was I so joyful; almost hysterically. I finally “got it”.

For the rest of the trip, I worked even harder than before; handing out food to homeless, tending co-op produce, and trying to uplift those cast aside by society. Some other people told me they noticed a change (while others, stayed the same).

Closing thoughts:

I learned that being a Christian, in practice, is about rather than solely identifying as Christian to get into heaven. For my life, it’s about loving others, helping the those in need, and being ACTIVE. (What good is faith if you ain’t doing shit with it???) I see many parallels with my conclusion and forms of socialism.