Living Under Self-imposed Halos

By Brian Elroy McKinley

"You are an abomination in the sight of the Lord," said the bearded man with a faded, button-down shirt and light blue jeans. He was holding a seven-foot wooden cross.
"How am I an abomination in the sight of the Lord?" I asked in response to my accuser. He probably could have picked any number of areas of my life, and I might have agreed with him. I was smoking a pipe. I had just purchased tobacco from a store that also sold pornography. I was wearing all black (you know, like witches and other demoniacs). I probably had bad breath, and, if he could read my mind, he probably knew I hadn't averted my eyes when my location in line put me in direct view of the dirty books in the corner. I wondered which of these he would choose.
"You're wearing earrings," came my answer.
Hadn't thought of that one. He caught me by surprise.
"Earrings?" I asked. "How is that...."
"It's improper for a man to dress like a woman!" blurted the other man standing to the right of the cross.
"By wearing earrings you live a life that's counter to God's will," said the cross-holding one.
My mind filled with activity. Do I write these two guys off as fanatics? Do I give them the address of Cedar Springs mental hospital? Do I make a defense for my earrings? Do I rip them out in a gesture of emotional repentance and sell them at their street value of $6.49, giving the revenue to someone in need of a meal? I decided that as a brother in the same faith, I should pursue the conversation and hear the support for their accusation--I argued in defense of my earrings.
Pointing at the woman who had just stopped to listen, I said, "Historically men were the ones who wore earrings. Woman stole the idea from men, so shouldn't you be telling her she's the abomination in the sight of the Lord?" It sounded like a good argument to me.
"That's just tradition!" answered the cross-holding man. "We're talking about biblical truths, not man-made ones."
Hmmmm, didn't get anywhere with that argument. I decided to use the old, obscure-Bible-verse tactic.
"In the Old Testament we read where Joshua's men wore earrings as a sign of victory in their battles," I said, feeling, most likely, more cocky than anyone quoting Bible verses ever should.
"Still tradition. Jesus didn't wear earrings, and neither should you," came the voice of the other man, also wearing a beard, faded shirt and blue jeans. "You should give up these sinful ways and give your life to Christ."
I felt like I was on Jeopardy. Buzzzzz...sorry, wrong answer! My brotherly love was failing me, and I decided to pull out the old catch-'em-with-the-holes-in-their-logic routine.
"Jesus wore a dress and drank wine. You're not wearing a dress, and I don't suppose you'll have a glass of wine when you pack up your cross for the day," I said, this time with definitely more cockiness than any brother in Christ should ever have.
"No I won't, but that's not what we're talking about," said the non-cross-holding man. "We're talking about living a biblical life, one that's glorifying to the Lord, and you're not doing that by wearing earrings."
So much for logical arguments. I decided to change the subject.
"Why do you come out here with this giant cross and yell at people as they walk by?" I asked. "It doesn't do a very good job of conveying God's love, and you're only making people think Christians are obnoxious."
"Are you a Christian?" asked the one without the cross.
"Yes, I am," I replied.
"Are you one of those Christians that just goes to church on Sunday and lives like a heathen the rest of the week, or have you given your life completely over to Christ?"
Having discovered that giving one's life over to Christ is an ongoing process, and knowing on that day I couldn't truthfully say I had completely rejected the world in His favor (remember the Playboy peeking I'd done just moments earlier), I said "I'm a Christian who daily must seek God's forgiveness and grace in my life. I'm far from perfect, but I want what God wants."
"Then why do you wear those earrings?" said the cross holder.
Oh no, not the earrings again.
"Slaves wore earrings as a sign of their bondage to a master," I tried one more time. "I wear mine as a sign of my bondage to Christ."
Wow, what a great argument. It was sort of true. I'd gotten my first earring in Northern Ireland. Almost all men under thirty wear earrings there, whether Catholic or Protestant, and I thought it was a nice symbol. Since both sides need grace to resolve their conflict, I thought having an earring could be a reminder for me of my ongoing need for God's grace. Nothing biblical about it really, just a reminder in my own flesh of how needy we all are. I must be real needy because now I have three.
My great argument was wasted, as probably it should have been, because my two accusers suddenly started yelling at someone else who was going into the tobacco and magazine stand. I pursued my earlier question.
"How do you feel yelling at people on a street is going to help further God's Kingdom?" I asked.
"People need to hear the word of God and change their ways," said the cross holder.
"I agree, but these people only think you, and your God, are fools. How can that be good?" I said.
"These people aren't rejecting us; they're rejecting God. Plus, the more people scoff at us, the more God will bless us for being fools in the sight of the world," said the cross holder.
"Uh, how's tha...."
"Christ said, 'Blessed are those who are persecuted in My name'" said the other.
It suddenly dawned on me that these two guys were seeking a form of martyrdom in order to feel they were truly Christians.
"So by yelling at people, and having them think you are fools, you set yourself apart from the world, prove your love to Christ and receive greater blessings in your life as a result?" I asked, bordering on sarcasm with that one.
"Christ said we must reject the world and publicly proclaim the world's need for salvation. People can't deal with that because their hearts are sinful. If we truly love God, then we must be willing to be called fools for His name's sake," said the non-cross-holding man. "Is your love for Christ so shallow that you're not willing to do that?"
Ouch! That one hurt. Talk about a slap to my pride. I wanted to strike back with something witty and cutting, but I had suddenly become aware I was angry. I had been thinking I was better than these guys. I was poking them with what I felt were good questions, but I did so with faulty motivation. I was dividing the Kingdom of God into them and me. I was doing the same thing the Protestants and Catholics are doing in Northern Ireland. My earring argument rang in my ears as a condemnation of my spirit of division (isn't that just like God to have an ironic sense of humor).
At the same time I became aware of what really bothered me about these two sidewalk shouters. They were indeed boldly stating how sinful the world is and that we need to stand up for our faith in Christ, but their attitude was the same as mine had just been, one of division. They were shouting out from under a self-imposed halo and taking public condemnation as proof of their righteousness. Their unwillingness to take my debate seriously reminded me of how I often write off thoughtful challenges to my own beliefs. So much easier, it is, to think myself right, and believe others inferior when they disagree, than to acknowledge my own desperate needs and pursue a faith in Christ that relies solely on His continued grace. So much easier, it is, to pat myself on the back for being a good martyr than to admit daily that I fail, am loved by God anyway and have forgiveness when I ask for it. So much easier, it is, for me to point out the sins in others' lives than to admit the ones in my life and share with others how God wants us despite our failings.
"Don't go in that store! They promote pornography!" yelled the non-cross-holding man at a passing woman.
"Turn away from your sinful ways lest you burn in hell!" shouted the other.
"You know, I'm finding it real hard to like you guys because you're an embarrassment to my faith," I said. "But I shouldn't feel this way. Should I?"
"Are you embarrassed by Jesus Christ?" asked the cross holder.
"No. I'm not, but I'm embarrassed by you. And I think I know why," I replied. "I'm embarrassed because I realize how easily I do the same thing you're doing."
The cross holder looked at me much like a parent does when growing weary of a child's questions. The other one kept shouting at the passers-by.
"I'm embarrassed because I know it's easier to condemn people than to love them. I'm embarrassed because the more you shout at people, the more I want to join everyone else and snicker at you rather than show how I should love you," I said.
"Don't support the kind of filth that's sold in there!" shouted the non-cross holder at another pedestrian.
"Well if you really loved Jesus, being embarrassed wouldn't bother you," said the cross-holding man.
It was getting real easy to dislike these guys. I've talked to bricks that were better at conversation (I really just wanted them to hear this great revelation I was having). I tell you, there are times in my life when I've felt that violence may have been a better form of persuasion than talking, but fortunately for me (my knees get weak at the sight of blood) I've never used it. Wanting to do the right thing, instead of letting myself return to anger, I decided it was time to leave.
"Well, I hope you keep reading your Bible and seeking God's will," I said. Just couldn't accept a good personal revelation and go peacefully, now could I? I had to use this seemingly nice Christian-like admonition to tell them underhandedly that they hadn't read the Bible well enough the first time.
"We will. You read it again too, and maybe God will strengthen you so that next time you won't mind being embarrassed," said the non-cross holder. Ooh, counter-jab. Have to tell you, I really wanted to beat the love of Jesus into these guys, but I was already feeling guilty for wanting to beat them silly without the love of Jesus, so I just smiled and turned away.
Walking as if through oil, myopic thoughts blinding me to pedestrians and parking meters (rammed my shoulder right into one), face and feet focused ahead but thoughts and theology still lingering on moments passed, I reached the street corner and turned a mental bend at precisely the same time. Martyrs, I thought, show love for those who persecute them. Street shouters, like the ones I just left, show only the kind of anger that they, and I, had just manifested. Just as my anger disqualified me from being right in this situation, it also disqualified the shouters. Sadly, their "martyrdom" only benefitted them the way my anger only served to protect my pride. Each of us fought to maintain our own kingdoms; none of us helped extend the Lord's.
I suddenly felt a strong need to share this second revelation with the shouters. I turned back for a moment, took two steps, then stopped.
"You are an abomination in the sight of the Lord," I could hear one of them yell from half a block away.
Well, maybe I'd better not.
Turning again to face the street light, I waited patiently while rubbing between my left thumb and forefinger the three little metal rings in my ear. Perhaps it was time to get a fourth.

Email: el@elroy.com

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