She stared back blankly and sighed with inconvenience, “Tattoos are not how we want our dancers represented.”
The conversation drug on for a while after. I asked why she didn’t tell me that the year before, and she changed the subject into biblical references as to why my “body mutilation” was unsightly for the reputation of her squad. This wasn’t my first interaction like this with this particular teacher. On stage during practice for a musical she had called me out for my vulgar t-shirt that read “Mean People Suck,” stating how Jesus wouldn’t appreciate my shirt and I’d need to go home and change rather than continue rehearsal. So as I listened to her say, “I’m really sorry, Brie,” in a tone that didn’t sound sorry at all, and a disdainful glance that made me feel very small, I backed up and walked away from the conversation.
The thing is I didn’t know Jesus as a friend at that point and time in my life, but the picture I was getting would lead me to believe I wasn’t really made to be a part of that whole religious business anyway. I didn’t wear the right clothes, say the right things, do the right stuff, come from the right upbringing, or any of the hundreds of other actions that were apparently required to make me worthy of being called a Christian. Mean people sucked? Heck, the religious folks didn’t seem much better.
As God would have it, six months later He found me in His own little way. He divinely appointed kind followers of Christ to come across my path, ones who wouldn’t judge me for my past, but would just love me. It wasn’t the religious people who led me to the Lord. It was the friends of Jesus who I followed.
After I saw that post today and realized I still was hurt, it made me wish I remembered that teacher’s name. I would find her and message her. I would say, “I forgive you. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I know at the time I didn’t fit into your expectations of Christianity, but Jesus found me. I thought you’d like to know. He didn’t see any of the faults you saw. For Him I was just the right reputation He wanted to represent His team. I was lost. But then I was found. Perfect fit.”
I’m so grateful that I don’t have to be religious to be a lover of Jesus. I’m so glad I don’t have to fit a standard mold to serve my God. I’m so thankful that He loves me despite anything about me, and that Jesus died for me, tattoos and all. I’m in love with a Savior who sees the best in me and doesn’t look for the worst. I walk with a Risen Lord who doesn’t care that it took me twenty years to find Him, but is simply pleased that I found Him. He doesn’t point out the years that I fell away from His side, but He draws me closer every day since. I serve a God who doesn’t keep a tally of my wrongs or even my good works, but saves me with His grace. I live for a God who doesn’t demand I carry myself a particular way or perform within a certain ideal, but delights that I do because I love Him. I serve Him out of love, not because religion obligates me to do so.
Sometimes we “religious” folks can forget that. We get it all backwards and think it’s what we do that saves us when in fact we can do nothing. It’s by His grace we are saved, and when we can look upon others with His eyes of love and longing, rather than ones of judgment, perhaps we’ll see our family grow. Until then, there will be a lot of people hurt by religion. I just thank God He works beyond that.