This meme caught my attention earlier in the week. It got me thinking. I couldn’t shake it.
It really didn’t matter to me that it was aimed at Joel Osteen. I have a problem with the “prosperity gospel” (as Christians should) and Osteen is fun for memes, but I don’t think about him that much. I understand the point here, but it was the comparison that really sat in my spirit, not the “takedown” of Osteen.
These days, everyone wants to be “affirmed.” Everyone wants a pat on the back for who they are.
I’m gay.
I’m black.
I’m non-binary.
I’m two-spirit, transgender with multiple personalities.
Whatever. Everyone has a “thing” and it’s all aimed at forcing other people to affirm not only is that thing okay, but that thing actually makes them a better person, and someone worth valuing. It’s rooted in narcissism, but don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s only the political cultists and activists who do this. All of us want affirmation. We all want someone to tell us we are good – wonderful, even – just the way we are.
It’s why the “prosperity gospel” thrives in America. By being kind enough to others, we can feel that we are worthy of good fortune.
I wasn’t raised in the Church or even by Christians. I found faith in Christ as a teenager, on my own, and I’ve been a grateful follower ever since. Although I believe in the creator of all things, I still struggle with my own insecurity and weaknesses. Sometimes, I’m plagued by unhappiness and sometimes even tragedy. Christ is not the solution to reality; He was the only way out.
Here’s the thing – I find it impossible to genuinely connect with God if all I’m seeking is affirmation. It seems so shallow to seek out positivity and lift my spirit more than anything else. It always ends in just wanting more – more happiness, more health, more money, more passion. Whatever the “more” is, I just want more of it.
It is not possible to find peace unless we acknowledge our complete wretchedness. After all, if I’m able to convince myself I’m happy and fulfilled by simply saying a daily affirmation, what do I need God for?
My wretchedness is what lifts me up. Recognizing that I’m helpless in front of the Almighty and that my sins are my fault, it allows me to see that He can rescue me from my sin. I can be equipped for eternity and holiness by the One Who Can. He is the One I can trust, and not my own murky self.
My filthiness is in the shadows of an all-knowing Creator. To such extraordinary power and omnipotence, who am I? No one is me.
This is why God’s relationship with us can be so beautiful, so fulfilling, and so valuable. Nothing can I bring to Him. There is no sacrifice I could make that would be worth His praise. I don’t even have a body that is made to be in His presence. Let’s not forget, He had to cover Moses as He passed by, lest His face destroy the prophet. We’re not made to withstand pure Holiness. No.
You can only begin to see your own abject misery and realize how wonderful and amazing it is for you to be loved by the One that should be taking you. We aren’t royalty. Worse, we are the diseased degenerates who wail outside the gates of the palace, and yet the King comes to us and says, “I love you. You are my daughters and sons. Come to my table and wear my robes. You are worthy, because I make it so.”
How can you possibly understand the depths of God’s love and the sacrifice He made for us unless you understand the depths of your own depravity?
The “affirmation culture,” in the Church and outside of it, asks us to believe we are already worthy and we have already reached the destination. It is enough to acknowledge it and allow God into your heart.
It is in realizing that we don’t deserve to be worthy and capable of doing so. NeverWe cannot be good enough on our own to experience the greatest satisfaction and joy when we look for God. He takes us from our filth and dresses us in royal robes. We can’t be grateful for that miracle if we don’t understand the mess we are independent of the Creator.
In church we always say, “But God…” I was lost…but God. I was in pain…but God. I was hateful…but God.
God is our “but,” the one who comes between us and our deserved fate. He holds the sentence of our lives together. I was on a path to degradation and pain…but God.
I am wretched…but God.
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