I Believed You

My friend shared this and it put into words exactly my experience at 34, witnessing the rise of Christian nationalism and extremism. But first, in true Bry fashion; I have to give my two cents:

As a kid who grew up in church and attended a Christian school at one point, raised as an army brat in war times, and moving to a new state or city every couple of years, I was very fortunate to have the experience and perspective of the expansive culture that our country includes within the crevices of every small town and large city.

I’m grateful to know the many freedoms and unfortunate downfalls of our country, I’ve witnessed a lot of beauty and a lot of heartache growing up the way that I did. I know first and second hand the importance of freedom, education and autonomy and understanding the impact of privilege and classism.

Religion is beautiful, I find faith to be resounding and at times, magical. My belief system is specific to me and I won’t share it with you unless it’s appropriate to do so. I align myself with my own personal values that I’ve gathered throughout my life and I also give myself the grace to learn more, incorporating ideals that bring me closer to what I see as my true and highest self during this lifetime. It’s how I was raised and this explains it:

So anyways, this is what my good friend shared:

"To the church of my youth,

What did you expect me to do?

You taught me to love my neighbors, to model the life of Jesus. To be kind and considerate, and to stand up for the bullied.

You taught me to love people, consider others as more important than myself.

You taught me to sing "red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight."

We sang it together, pressing the volume pedal and leaning our hearts into the chorus. You said that “He loved all the children of the world”.

You taught me to love my enemies, to even do good to those who wish for bad things. You taught me to never "hate" anyone and to always find ways to encourage people.

You taught me it's better to give than receive, to be last instead of first. To help the poor, the widow, the stranger at the gate.

You taught me that Jesus looks at what I do for the least-of-these as the true depth of my faith. You taught me to focus on my own sin and not to judge. You taught me to be accepting and forgiving.

So I paid attention.

I took in every lesson.

And I did what you taught me.

But now, you call me a “libtard”. A queer-lover. You call me "woke." A backslider. You call me a heretic. You make fun of my heart. You mock the people I’m trying to help. You say I’m a child of the devil.

You call me soft. A snowflake. A socialist. You shun the very people you told me to help.

What did you expect me to do?

I thought you were serious, but apparently not.

You hate nearly all the people I love. You stand against nearly all the things I stand for. I'm trying to see a way forward, but it's hard when I survey all the hurt, harm, and darkness that comes in the wake of your beliefs and presence.

What did you expect me to do?

I believed it all the way.

I'm still believing it all the way.

Which leaves me wondering, what happened to you?"

—Chris Kratzer