Political Memes

Alright, I want to say this first: I appreciate that you’ve stayed in this conversation. I really do. I can tell you care, that you take your tradition seriously, and that you’re trying to offer what you believe is truth. That matters to me. I'm going to speak just as plainly as you do, because I think you can handle it.

You keep pointing to your sin like it’s some badge of spiritual maturity. But Christ didn’t die so you could stay tethered to your brokenness. He died so you could actually change. He didn’t offer you a mirror just to say, “Yep, still filthy,” but to cleanse you and fill you with His Spirit so that His love becomes what people experience when they encounter you.

You speak of repentance as if it’s the destination. It’s not. It’s the doorway.

You talk about church as the only hospital, but then point to sacraments and tradition as the required price of admission. You keep reducing the gospel to obedience, when the whole point of transformation was not through your obedience, but His. You are like Christ because of Christ.

And if Christ in you and through you is the goal, then look at how He loved. He confronted religious pride. He broke bread with doubters. He listened before correcting. He touched wounds before calling people to sin no more.

Right now, your version of Christianity seems to say, “You’re disgusting. Come to church.”

But the gospel contradicts that directly with, “You are deeply loved. You have been made whole.”

Your sin isn’t the problem. If the work of the Cross is actually finished, your sin is not your problem. It was Christ’s.

What I see in you is a refusal to believe you can actually live differently. That Christ can actually live through you. That His Spirit doesn’t just forgive, it transforms.

You want me to come back to church? Then show me what church people look like when they truly believe they’ve been made new.

You say Christianity isn’t about me. But Jesus didn’t die to protect institutions. He died for people. For their hearts. For their healing. For their wholeness. That is the good news.

So I’ll keep talking to strangers here, or anywhere else I can connect with people. I’ll keep telling my story. I will bring the Church to them. Because someone out there needs to hear that there is nothing to be ashamed of anymore. Love defeated shame. Love defeated doctrine-as-a-weapon. Love is the good news we share through our words and our actions.

And since you speak often of repentance and obedience, I’ll offer this to you in your own language:

If the Church is a hospital, as you say, then what do you do when the wounded are afraid to walk through the doors, not because they reject healing, but because the people inside keep reopening their wounds?

Is it not a kind of spiritual malpractice to demand repentance from the hurting without first washing their feet?

You’re right, Christ calls us to die to ourselves. But if that death doesn’t make us more gentle, more approachable, more like a refuge for the broken, what exactly is dying in us? And what’s still holding on?

And one more thing. You seem to have misread my last question. It wasn’t for me.

It was for you.

Are you Christlike?

Not in your theology. Not in your discipline. Not in your sacraments or church attendance.
When people think of you, do they think of love?
Love in your tone. Love in your compassion.
Love in how you treat even a stranger—not just on some internet platform, but everywhere.

Because as Jesus said, that is how they will know you are His disciple.