Contradictions Rhetorical Analysis

Bethany,

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and beliefs. I am grateful that you are willing to be vulnerable about your experiences. I, too, will try to be equally open.

As I read your email, I could not help but be struck with the irony of the situation. Who would have thought that years ago in our dorm room one day I would be defending Christianity against your objections of contradictions to the faith! That sentence may put you on guard, but please understand that the following response is purely meant to explain my perspective. Also, please do not worry about the length of your email, as I need to apologize in advance to the length of this one. Actually, I take that back. Some things are worth taking the time to say. So, please, with patience, read on.

In response to your question on relativism, what I mean is that the underlying assumption in society is: there is no absolute truth. You believe what you want, and that is okay because I can believe what I want. Toleration is simply stating that I will not contend

with your beliefs because, in the end, we don't know which of us is correct. I was making a sweeping generalization; no, I do not mean that everyone has stopped searching for truth. I mean that our culture informs us there is no truth; only what feels right for you. This is juxtaposed to what we do, which is constantly seek for a belief system that we adopt as true. My point is that society is unwilling to debate the validity of different belief systems because everyone is afraid of offending each other.

Before I proceed, I feel the need to clarify. I felt this email mirrors the exact reason communication with you and Louvie ceased, and so I want to be blunt. My rebuttal is not condemnation. It is not judgment. It is making an argument from the Christian perspective about your beliefs. If you reject Christianity, then I hope we can enter into a dialogue about whether or not God's moral system is righteous. I believe you are correct in that you cannot be a Christian and reject His teachings; if you reject His moral standards as written in the Bible, you write Him off as an unjust god.

I cannot help but feel you have misunderstand the basic tenant of the Christian faith. Your statement that Christianity overemphasizes the afterlife demonstrates that no one has explained that Christianity is about living with Christ (I do not accept Christ as an insurance policy for my soul but to have fellowship with the Creator at all times of my existence, this life included). Neither did you respond to my direct question: have you ever experienced the in-dwelling of the Holy Ghost. If you had, you would know. He is not like any other spirit. I then, although being forward, can reasonably conclude you have never accepted Christ as your Savior because the in-dwelling of the Holy Spirit is the mark of salvation (Ephesians 1:12-14). I will therefore make the assumption that you are familiar with Scripture and Biblical teaching but have not been in a relationship with the Father, Son, or Holy Spirit.

Therefore, I know of no other way to explain the Christian perspective than to share my experiences. Do you remember how I shared how one night I thought I was dying? The person I thought was Jesus was telling me to give up the ghost, but something was holding me back. Finally, I asked Jesus to make His will plain to me. The response was unforgettable. A figure stepped out from parting clouds, light coming from Him and from around Him so I could see nothing of Him, only His outline. "Melissa," He said, "do you trust me?" "Yes," I replied. "Then roll over and go to sleep."

The experience shook me deeply. The presence of the One who stepped from the clouds made the "light" of the other spirit I had been speaking with seem like dirt. The glow, the unmistakable divinity and purity of that light outshone any previous experience. Since that night, I began to doubt if I was doing the right thing.

A few weeks later, I was substitute teaching. I had some spare time, so I was reading a book on spiritual warfare. The author was a minister who was speaking about casting out demons. As I read, terror struck me. A thought crossed my mind that I could not shake. This man had become obsessed with the spirit world, so much so that he was blinded by any other reality. For the first time, my eyes were opened to the fact that I was so concerned with angels and demons that I was missing the point of existence. I was wrong.

I called the pastor of the church I was attending at the time, and after a few minutes of conversation, he asked me a simple question I was stunned to realize I could not answer: who is Jesus Christ?

I had professed I was a Christian, believing the Bible to be the Word of God, yet when directly asked to profess Jesus as the Son of God, I could not. Perhaps you see the error: any spirit who cannot profess Jesus as the Son of God is none of His (I John 4:1-3). I could not possibly be a Christian if my spirit could not announce Jesus as the Son of God born in the flesh. However, I was not yet convinced I was lost.

A few days later, I was deeply bothered by the continuing question of whether or not I was doing right. I was reading the Scriptures where Jesus rebuked the Sadducees for not believing in the resurrection. In that moment, the words, "Do ye not therefore err, because ye know not the scriptures, neither the power of God?" were not for the Sadducees; they were for me. You might as well say the words were highlighted, literally. It was as though they were brighter than all the other words on the page, and the truth of what I read was undeniable. Just as the figure on the cloud was undeniably divine, so these words were undeniably true.

I was left confused and uncertain. If you can become obsessed with the spirit world to the point of being blind to reality, yet you need the spirit world to believe there is a God and to be right with Him, how in the world do you know what to do? One simple truth was implanted in me: the Bible is accurate. This was because I could not shake the truth of the words I had read. If I was in error, then what was true?

Since I had obviously misread the Scriptures, I knew I needed someone who understood them to tell me if I was in sin or not. I first called you, but you did not answer. Next I called the aforementioned pastor, and he flatly told me he could not support what I had described about communing with spirits as being Biblical. Right after I hung up with him, you returned my call, and I was saved soon after we hung up. I remember how surprised I was to hear myself answer your question, "You know what's wrong, right" with the confession of being lost. It was not conscious knowledge; I did not know it before the words came out of my mouth. It was, as I now understand, the revelation of sin from the Holy Spirit. It was what preachers call conviction.

My walk with Christ has not been a bed of roses. My faith is not an avoidance of confrontation, devoid of intense scrutiny, or without outside challenging. I have flung every doubt of my mind straight at the Scriptures and at God's character. I have challenged every belief I once held and every belief every minister has told me. My mother views my faith as equally terrible to my brother's drug additions (she actually said that). She confronted me several times about the judgmental and snobbish attitude of Christians. She outright hates Christ, and therefore hates any representation of Him in my life. Such does not bother me. She is taking out her anger at God on me, and so I can overlook it. Understand I am not ranting about my mother. I am trying to express that my belief in Christ is not a religion but an undeniable experience of truth which has been combatted and withstood deep analysis and the pain of rejection from those closest to me.

The night I was saved I learned one thing: I am a fool. You spoke of the freedom from guilt and self-condemnation. You said that you abandoned the impossible standard. I suggest you have missed the point. God's standard is impossible. The purpose of the ten commandments is to teach us that we cannot live up to God's expectations, as Paul states when he writes, "For all men have sinned and come short of the glory of God." If we try to uphold that standard, we fail miserably. We realize how inadequate we are at truly loving those who hate us and sacrificing our lives for the sake of those around us.

I propose this: I have more confidence in myself the more I acknowledge I am an imbecile.

Contradiction? Absolutely not. The more I acknowledge I am incapable of being righteous, the more I am liberated from the burden of trying to be so. Because I cannot be righteous (selfishness and pride are my main blocks to loving others), I have the joy of laying myself down. The less I have confidence in myself, the more I have confidence in my life. Why? This is extremely difficult to convey, but nonetheless here is my best effort. The more I reject my understanding of righteousness and reject my desires but instead submit my desires and understanding to be conformed to God's standards, the more I am liberated in knowing and doing righteousness. Again, the less I try to be righteous but instead allow God to be righteous through me, the more abundantly I enjoy the richness of love, selflessness, peace, contentment, and comfort in the presence of

God.

The Holy Spirit recently revealed to me a large flaw in my beliefs: because I have always held high the thought of earning everything, I am extremely worked based. That is, I believe I am righteous when I do x, y, and z. Such an attitude is false. It is, perhaps, the attitude that leads to abandoning the unattainable standard for a less demanding moral code. Instead, righteousness is abiding in righteousness; it is a state of being.

What, then, is righteousness? The One who wrote the unattainable law, the only One who is perfect, God. You see, I cannot be righteous unless I am in God. If I try to be righteous, I fail. Only God, who is perfect, can uphold the perfect standard of unfailing love, endless grace, endless patience towards others, and true self-sacrifice to the point of laying down my own life. When I die to my own opinion of what life should be and live in God, then I attain righteousness; He becomes my righteousness.

This is the basic tenant of Christian faith: acknowledging I am unable to be righteous and therefore asking God to be righteous for me by abiding in me and I in Him so that His life is lived through mine. I die so He may restore me to a vessel devoid of sin, a vessel born of the spirt and not merely of bodily desires.

I am certain I am unclear in all of this. My goal is to express that I have not adopted a new belief; I have not adopted a new guardian angel to guide me into spiritual enlightenment; I have not been convinced by people around me that I need Christ to go to heaven. Instead, I have been born-again. I have a new life. I am not the Melissa you knew. That Melissa died the night I confessed I was in error and needed God to save me from my faults. Neither am I living by a new law. Yes, I am under the high standard of perfection, yet I am not responsible for being perfect: the Holy Spirit who lives inside of me (note not possessing, not coaching me as our spirits did in Denison) is responsible for keeping me in a life God deems righteous. God is responsible for showing me my sins, teaching me how to correct my mistakes, and how to live a godly life. I am only responsible for subjecting myself to His instruction. I have to humble myself, acknowledging that He is wiser than I, so I can learn from Him what it means to love, cry, forgive, and ultimately live.