Dear Pneuma,

I struggle with the concept of community. I struggle with the idea of turning my determination over to a committee of believers. I struggle with the concept of surrendering myself, all that I am and can be, over to other people. I even struggle with the idea of turning myself over "to Jesus." On Sundays, we often sing hymns that imply a crucifixion of individual needs in following the call of Jesus in our lives.

I don't believe in it. I don't believe that anyone, Jesus Christ included, lives my life, and so I find an almost insurmountable barrier in myself when it comes to relinquishing self. There is a common thread in many Christian theologies that requires personal acceptance of failures, but no personal power in success. My sins are all my own, but any accomplishments are only "by the blood of Christ." I wonder, as a Christian, if I must accept this understanding: true Christians replace themselves with Christ, losing sin only in losing self.

I tried once, to nullify myself completely. I was in hate with my desires, my hopes, my dreams, my wounds, my body, my family, my friends. I was in hate with the entirety of life as I knew it. I decided to nullify myself, and found that I could not. What's more, in that bitter battle with God, I discovered that I had been denying myself for years. I had been standing in the tried and true methods of my ancestors, walking the straight and narrow, pretending that, simply, I could not actually matter. Putting goodness, purity, and "low maintenance" in place of my desires, my expectations, and my personal attainments, I still kept intruding. I simply would not go away, whether I mattered or not.

Waking back into life, I took some terrible chances. I made some terrible choices. I abrogated my will to my desires. I risked. I failed. I hurt people. I lost a carefully built network of relationships and patterns of choice, but I had decided to be. I live today, a life I treasure. I live today a life as full as it had been empty. I live today with a terrifying truth: I do matter, and every decision, choice, and action I make is my responsibility and my duty to God.

So often, on a Sunday morning, I hear sermons that seem to imply that Christ calls us to "renounce ourselves and the world," "to accept our insufficient powers," and to "turn ourselves over to him;" sermons of self-nullification, abrogation of will and a vision of sweet, easy surrender. I know a lie in this. I did not give myself to Christ with "joy and thanksgiving in my heart." I went kicking, screaming and crying. I went with hate boiling in my spirit. I went with nails and barbed wire in my soul. When I sing "I Surrender All," I am am Robert E. Lee at Appomatox Courthouse, not a pure and submissive bride, opening myself to my Lover's caresses and the inevitability of place in my community.

Christ has meaning for me because I am I. I believe that Christ's call is a call to the courage to be alive, the way that Jesus was alive. I believe it is a call to share, a call to compassion, and a call to the reckless belief that every human being matters absolutely. I do not believe that Christ carried me through the steepest times of my being: harried, yelled, encouraged, maybe Christ even stretched out his hand, but I climbed those hills myself, one filthy handful of clay at a time. I believe that many do the same.

Knowing these things in myself, I struggle with the idea of trusting the opinions and judgments of a religious community. I have a hard time letting a group be my wisdom. I have a hard time believing myself unequal to anyone in my community. I have a hard time bowing my head. Importantly, I find myself unwilling to be yoked to my community's vision when that vision requires a belief that the individual is a poor, miserly, insignificant, and powerless being. It feels like a betrayal of all the reasons I became a Christian in the first place.

Thanks for Listening,
Cobalt Dreams