If I ruled the world, I would totally remodel the external image of the “perfect Christian.” You are probably going to ask, but of all the social, political, economic, environmental, socio-economic, cultural and mental issues of our world, why would I choose to focus on that issue? And then you may ask, is it even an issue? Well, it is an issue, maybe not a monstrous one that could end the world, but something we Harding students can relate to.
From the time of infancy, when our mothers strapped us up in cute red suspenders or in big, hideous bows (or both in some cases), we are conditioned to keep up appearances. Being a perfect Christian in the United States of the Bible Belt means having a certain look, style and smile. Take a minute and just think to yourself, what is the perfect Christian supposed to look like? If you are like me, then the first images that slide into your head are the models from Christianmingle.com (not that I have an account on that website or am trying to find my soul mate via blind Internet dating or anything …).
But look at the model couples on Christianmingle.com. They are all pretty, skinny and absolutely perfect because they have completed the only initiative in life that matters for many of us: marriage. Churchofchristsingles.com is guilty of the same advertising fallacy, as are Bigchurch.com, Christiansingles.com, Christiancupid.com, Christiancafe.com and Catholicmatch.com (these are all real).
Does it bother anyone else that we have this Sunday Service Barbie and Bible Study Ken mindset on what a “perfect Christian” looks like?
Christians, in my opinion, are supposed to be anything but cookie-cutter clones with straight and glamorous hair, celebrity physique and omnipresent smiles, wielding Bibles and donning cross necklaces. I am not in the least against looking your best for Sunday service or just any day in general, but looking like a GQ model or Miss America contender has nothing to do with being a perfect Christian.
God built us to be so radically different from each other that it should be like looking down at a spinning kaleidoscope of diverse appearances, personalities, cultures and emotions when we see humanity.
As Christians, we are supposed to be weird. We are supposed to stand out from the rest of the world because we don’t put our faith in appearances and propaganda. In real life, Christianity is a mad, messy easel painted with Chaco hippies, starving artists, fire jugglers, yoga lovers, skater boys, football jocks, re-enactment Civil War soldiers, Young Republicans, Broadway hopefuls, Dungeons & Dragons addicts and shuffleboard Olympians.
If God wanted a world perfectly ordered according to Western culture, he would have just created Barbie’s dream house in space.
We think we should all be striving for perfection in our quest to be Christ-like. And we are horrendously guilty of trying to cover up our imperfections with happy smiles and overpriced clothing. But being Christ-like is not about having the super-successful career, well-manicured front lawn, drop-dead-gorgeous spouse and Hallmark card family.
The only image of perfection, of being Christ-like, that should matter is that of a person kneeling at the foot of the cross, whether he or she is wearing Gucci or Goodwill.
