I wasn't going to post again before Easter, but something a fellow blogger wrote made me think again.
I am a Christian. There. I've said it.
Time was when it was fine to admit to being a Christian. Not any more. Things have changed, and if you tell people you're a Christian, they seem to see you in a different light altogether. They also tell you how much the church has to answer for, from wars to child abuse, and so it's easier in some ways to keep quiet.
They also make assumptions.
Some time ago a friend of mine, who was angry with me, suddenly shouted at me "call yourself a Christian!" I was very taken aback, because apart for the fact that she knows I sing in the church choir, I had never, to her, "called myself a Christian". But she had made the connection, and a judgement, and I was condemned. Because of course Christians are supposed to behave so much better than everyone else, even (and especially) by those who have no faith at all.
But...I am a Christian. Not a good one; not a particularly prayerful one; certainly not a preachy one. I rarely mention it, and I have a long way to go. And I have lots of doubts. But basically, it seems to make sense. I make no judgements about those of different faiths or none; I don't know whether I am "saved" (whatever that means). I certainly don't deserve to be. But there it is.
I recently read a wonderful book: "Unapologetic", by Francis Spufford. It is a very readable
exposition of why he's a believer. And no. He's not preachy either. He's not even a paid-up theologian; just a (very good) writer. In fact, the book is full of the F word, and very down to earth. But just in case, at this Eastertide, anyone reading this might be interested, I do commend it. If nothing else, it makes for very entertaining reading.
Happy Easter (again)!