I was talking to a Buddhist about faith the other day. We were just talking — the kind of easy conversation you fall into on the road with people you’ve just met. And I said I was a Christian. And then there was this pause. The recalibrating. The quiet sorting of me into a box.
We’ve been traveling as a family for a while now, and I keep bumping into this. It’s not that I’m hiding what I believe. I’ll tell anyone — I believe Jesus is God. No hesitation. The struggle isn’t with the faith. It’s with the word. And everything the world has loaded onto it.
What People Hear When I Say “Christian”
When that word comes out of my mouth, people don’t hear what I mean. They hear something else. And I can feel the questions they’re too polite to ask: Are you going to judge me? Are you going to look down on how I live? Are you going to try to win me over to your team by telling me I’m wrong?
I get why. Before I became a Christian, the word didn’t mean love or grace to me. It made me think of arguments. Culture wars. Being told I wasn’t enough. Being told I was sinful and wrong.
So I sit in this weird tension. I love God. I have faith that Jesus is who He said He was. And I fumble a little every time the label comes up — not because of Him, but because of what people assume it means about me.
Nobody Argued Me Into My Faith
Here’s the thing I wish I could explain before anyone puts their guard up: nobody talked me into following Jesus. There was no airtight argument. No pamphlet. No debate I lost.
I was loved into it.
That’s it. That’s the whole thing. A handful of people showed me something real. Not a pitch. Not friendship with an agenda. Just ordinary, messy, no-strings love — the kind where someone sees you and you can tell they actually mean it. And that love pointed somewhere. It pointed to Jesus.
I came to faith in my mid-thirties, which means I didn’t grow up with this stuff. I’m learning it all late. And because the door in for me was love — not logic — I think I carry it differently. Not better. Probably worse in a lot of ways. But differently.
I’m a Bad Student, But I’m Still in the Room
I’ll just say it — I don’t think I’m a good “Christian.” At least not by some people’s definition. If there’s a grade, I’m pulling a C-minus. I don’t understand the differences between denominations. The rules and rituals that separate one camp from another. I don’t care.
Maybe someday that stuff will matter to me. Maybe when I’ve figured out how to love my neighbor and my enemy on the same day, I’ll have room to care about the finer points. But right now I don’t, and I’m not going to pretend I do.
I think of myself as a student of the rabbi Jesus. Not a good one. I ask the same questions over and over and still struggle to understand the answers. Days later I forget. But I do it from loyalty, not from walking away. There’s a difference between questioning your way out of something and wrestling your way deeper in. I’d like to think I’m doing the second one. Most days I’m not sure.
I’m Stuck on “Love Your Enemy”
You want to know where I am in this journey? I’m stuck on “love your enemy.” That’s it.
Love the person who wronged you. Love the person who’d celebrate your failure. Every instinct I have says protect yourself, fight back, cut them off. And Jesus says love them. That’s not something you nod at and move on from. That’s a complete rewiring of how I operate. I spent thirty-something years in self-protect mode. I’m still learning how to put that down.
Until I can get closer to living that out, debating the finer points feels like getting stuck in bureaucracy before adopting morality.
So Maybe I’m Not a Good “Christian”
I don’t know how to fix what the word “Christian” means to people. I don’t think it’s my place to. All I can do is try to live like Jesus did. And I fail at that daily.
I have faith that Jesus is God. I have faith that following Him is the most important thing I’ll ever do. I’m still stuck on the most basic teachings. But here I am. And I’d rather be an honest, messy follower who’s figuring it out than someone who has all the answers and none of the love.
If you’ve been burned by the word “Christian” — I’m not here to convince you of anything. I’m not recruiting for a team. I’m just a guy on the road with his family, wrestling with my understanding of the world around me, trying to love people the way I was loved into faith in the first place.
And if you’re someone who loves Jesus but feels weird about the label — I’d love to know how you talk about it. Because I’m still figuring that out. I don’t think I’m the only one.