Editor responds to hate with love

By Jonathan McFadden
mcfaddenj@mytjnow.com

Back in 1965, Jackie DeShannon sang “What the World Needs Now Is Love.”

She was right.

When I decided I would write a response on faith and create a balance after several opinion columns in Nov. 3’s Johnsonian, I debated about the path I would take.

There was no doubt I felt led to write something, but I had to do a little self-examination and external observation.

As a Christian, I wanted to say something and properly distinguish between religion and faith. I felt like I had to come behind the negativity and immediately guard against one or two people’s opinions.

Then, I stopped, gave myself a mental slap and said, “Cool your heels, you’re at Winthrop for crying out loud. It’s an opinion—it’s okay.”

So, instead of preparing a sermon (joking of course), I decided to think carefully about faith and love.

Attacks on faith attack one’s entire belief system. It takes something fundamental and foundational to one’s life and does a booboo on it.

Admittedly, that stinks. 

It’s not a good feeling. It stings. 

So, when the column “Editor denies God” ran in the Nov. 3 edition of The Johnsonian, I could have easily taken apart every point I didn’t agree with and vomit it here on these pages.

But not today.

I could have immaturely called everything written wrong and unfounded and distorted.

Pointless.

Today and everyday, I want to continue to respond in love.

Not your average “I love you…no I love you more” love. Not the love a child feels for his parents. Not the love a fashionista feels for her next pair of shoes. 

Instead, I posit a love I feel, or better yet believe, transcends everything, dismantles all animosity (or incites it, depending on the perspective), bears under criticism and remains consistent all the same.

I’m talking about the love of Jesus Christ. 

Don’t roll your eyes and turn the page. Remember, I’m not preparing a sermon. 

Here’s it simply: I believe in God. I believe in the sacrifice Jesus Christ made on Calvary because of His unfathomable love for us. I believe in His resurrection. I believe in His insurmountable grace. I believe in sharing that same grace. I believe a lot of people probably think I’m crazy.

That belief—or those “lies” as it was termed in the column—is at the center of my life.

That faith doesn’t act as a cure-all to all of life’s ups and downs. It doesn’t give me an excuse or rationale for escaping life’s problems. More to the point, it’s not religion. 

I don’t like religion. I go to church and I read my Bible; I pray and try to keep a song in my heart and a smile on my face. When trouble comes, I try to remain steady. 

None of it is for religion’s sake. 

It’s not to make me feel good (because it doesn’t always). It’s not about pleasing anyone else (because you never really will).  

Many people have been hurt by religion. 

The people who practice religion in the name of God, Allah or whoever have hurt even more people. Religion has been distorted and, in some instances, degraded to a popularity contest or marketing strategy.

There’s a reason some find pleasure in disproving the existence of a supreme deity. There’s a reason people don’t believe in a God.

Do I shun them? Do I persecute them?

No, that would be silly. Nothing would be solved, and Christ would look like the tyrannical jerk some have made themselves out to be. 

Everyone has the right to have an opinion, and I would never seek to rob anyone of that principle. 

If I had the space to explain why I believe in God, how I’ve seen Him work in the lives of others, how I compare my belief to the gravitational pull of Jupiter, I would lay it all down here. 

But for now, all I can say is God gave me hope and still does today.

Faith is different. It’s not about trying to have all the answers or becoming the sole authority on life’s mysteries and problems.

It’s the complete opposite.

It’s acknowledging that we don’t have all the answers. It’s realizing that everything about the world or even God can’t be explained with logical, tangible proof.

For some, that’s discomforting—it’s intangible and therefore untrustworthy. It doesn’t make sense because we’ve been trained to be intellectuals who only believe in what we ourselves can see or prove (perhaps humanity has more of a messiah complex than it’s willing realize).

If you read that column on Nov. 3 and felt angry, don’t be.

If you read that column and could care less or agreed, that’s okay too because you’ve read through to the end of this column, which accomplishes my goal. 

I’m a living testimony of the reality of God. I didn’t come out the womb with a Bible in hand. I wasn’t raised in an overtly religious or even devoutly Christian home.

My parents didn’t make me go to the front of the church and make a confession of faith; they weren’t even around when I accepted Christ in my life.

I do understand that faith doesn’t come easily for everyone. 

Heck, for most Christians it still doesn’t ever come easily. 

And, that’s okay.

There’s so much more I would love to say but time is short—literally and figuratively. 

I don’t believe we’re here for ourselves. I don’t believe life is a waste, and I don’t believe anyone’s expendable. 

Faced with this reality, what to do?

Love.

What do we do when people insult us, persecute us or falsely say negative things about us?

We love harder. 

Will all accept the message?

No.

Should we stop trying?

Not at all.

So, what can we possibly do?

Love, not judge.

Love, not condemn.

Love, not harm. 

Just love.