We can argue about the tangible parts of Christianity, of the Gospel: logistics, facts, figures, and underlying philosophy. The untouchable part, however, is how the gospel changes a person.
I was very resistant to the Judeo-Christian idea of "god" for most of my childhood and adolescence, even though I was raised under the basics: god made you, he loves, you; he sent Jesus for you. I knew that I believed in "god", because a creator, to me, was a given. I just didn't like how he was defined (and in contradicting definitions made by differing people groups). To me, god is more like this. I didn't know about Jews or Pagans, Buddhists and Hindus seemed cool, and Muslims were foreign and radical to me. Above all, though, I thought Christians were lame. Fakers. (Who is that happy all the time? They're just so nice. Ugh.) Definitely hypocrites. My antagonistic perception of Christians arose from witnessing God's goodness radiating from them, and the heat was too much. I felt ashamed around Christians, even though, from my perspective, I had done nothing wrong.
Religion, in my mind (with Christianity leading the brigade), was a crutch for people who were too dumb and weak to just be able to figure it out on their own: that life was about gaining as many experiences as possible, feeling fulfilled, and pursuing happiness all in the presence of good company. We live and we die, and if you are good and honest enough, you get to finish it out by going to heaven to be with "god". Love and happiness were the goals; god was just a convenient vehicle for getting to them. I only prayed when I needed something. I said, wrote, sang, and dreamt, whole-heartedly, without abandon, and with childish fervor: "Love is all I need!"
Religion, in my mind (with Christianity leading the brigade), was a crutch for people who were too dumb and weak to just be able to figure it out on their own: that life was about gaining as many experiences as possible, feeling fulfilled, and pursuing happiness all in the presence of good company. We live and we die, and if you are good and honest enough, you get to finish it out by going to heaven to be with "god". Love and happiness were the goals; god was just a convenient vehicle for getting to them. I only prayed when I needed something. I said, wrote, sang, and dreamt, whole-heartedly, without abandon, and with childish fervor: "Love is all I need!"
Before God, I wandered aimlessly. I was fragile, sensitive, easily impressed-upon. I fell in love over and over and over again. People, ideas, knowledge, emotion, and experience were my pillars. I was a theistic humanist with a bent in my heart against Christianity, if you like labels. I was never openly aggressive towards Christians; I just tried not to be around them. I believed in god, but I believed more in the mystery and awesomeness of his people. I believed that people were inherently good, that there was an endless capacity for goodness, love, and creativity. I wanted to witness something amazing, to be a part of something huge. I believed that we all were destined for greatness, as unstable rocks waiting for the earthquake, trembling. I was hopelessly lost, even though I didn't know it, waiting for anything or anyone to take my hand. Love is all I need!
Eventually, my pillars began to rust and crumble. You can ignore it, suppress it, numb yourself to it, or beg for it in death, but eventually the 'hard questions' of life (the meaning of existence type questions) will arise and demand heavy answers. Only one ideology can bear up under the weight of this. The Gospel elicits a response; you can't sleep through this. You may not wake up.
If "god" exists, if he revealed himself to man, if the way he revealed himself to man can be narrowed down as absolute truth measured against a pool of subjective man-made truths, and if that account is trustworthy, you can know God.
The Gospel: God exists, He made you; He knows you, and He loves you. So much so, in fact, that He simply could not and would not exist to sit back and watch us slowly kill ourselves devouring the gunk of this world; that kills Him. So He sent a Game Changer to do for us what we could not do for ourselves, namely, pull us out of the mess we've created here, the mess that separates us from God. The Gospel is reconciliation with God through Christ (or I also love: God Our Sins Paying Everyone Life, not my acronym, for emphasis). Christ abolished the old law that said we have to be good enough, the one that demanded unending sacrifices to cover our shortcomings, by becoming the ultimate sacrifice, sealing the new law of grace on anyone who believes it. The Game Changer gives us something we don't deserve.
I can see now. It's like looking through a clear pane when all you've ever known was shrouded, frosted glass. Stable rocks after the earthquake. Someone holding my hand. Being found. Being defined.
My life has purpose. I am noticeably different. Reading the Bible makes sense, there is purpose in praying, I am free to love Christians now; they are my brothers. I extend the law of grace that is marked on me like a tattoo. It starts with a lot less of me and a lot more of Him. It's the greatest redemption story ever told. It's the taking of an imperfect mess and making it purposefully profitable for the truly greater good {Him}. It's the greatest love story ever told. It's belonging to someone; it's being truly admired and loved. It's the object of my true affection given to the only One I love. Of course it's a process! I'm not perfect! But it looks like a little less road rage, a little less yelling at the kids, a little less wanting someone else to be taken down a few pegs. It's the opposite of getting what's coming to you; it's grace. A way out from anxiety, someone on the other end of the line when I need help who won't fail. It's not keeping a record of wrongs against anyone because none are held up against me. I have direction; I still wander, but it's not aimless, and it's always back into His arms.
My life has purpose. I am noticeably different. Reading the Bible makes sense, there is purpose in praying, I am free to love Christians now; they are my brothers. I extend the law of grace that is marked on me like a tattoo. It starts with a lot less of me and a lot more of Him. It's the greatest redemption story ever told. It's the taking of an imperfect mess and making it purposefully profitable for the truly greater good {Him}. It's the greatest love story ever told. It's belonging to someone; it's being truly admired and loved. It's the object of my true affection given to the only One I love. Of course it's a process! I'm not perfect! But it looks like a little less road rage, a little less yelling at the kids, a little less wanting someone else to be taken down a few pegs. It's the opposite of getting what's coming to you; it's grace. A way out from anxiety, someone on the other end of the line when I need help who won't fail. It's not keeping a record of wrongs against anyone because none are held up against me. I have direction; I still wander, but it's not aimless, and it's always back into His arms.
It's wild, endless. It's freedom!