Do you still love me anymore?

I was motivated by the acceptance of my parents as a child. When I was disciplined, the first question I would ask when it was over was, “Do you still love me anymore?” It did not matter the punishment, or when I had to make amends for something I may have done wrong. All that be damned. My main concern was that I still had their love.

Of course, it was always a resounding Yes! Followed by much affection and attention. Now, you seasoned parents may see a bit of manipulation here, but the question was always real, and my heart always wanted to hear the answer.

It took a while to learn that my parents’ love for me was not dependent upon my actions. And through my teenage years that certainly was tried and I became sure of it. My question is, why did it take so long?

Part of my mindset I attribute to theological teaching. I remember one night at a church in Utica we attended when I was between the ages of 7 and 9. There was a youth rally and the main event was a slide show that accompanied the song, “I Wish We’d All Been Ready,” by Larry Norman.

The words to the song are bad enough…children dying, family members disappearing in the blink of an eye, but the chorus, “There’s no time to change your mind, the son has come and you’ve been left behind.”

And if that wasn’t bad enough, the photos accompanying the music were Armageddon-like, with mushroom clouds, children burned by radiation, hungry babies with swollen stomachs and repeating images of flames…I guess that was supposed to be hell. There was even an underlying soundtrack, although faint, of the voices of those in torture whenever those latter pictures were on the screen.

It was at that point I developed a fear of God, not the reverence the Bible refers to, but outright terror. I was even afraid to ask, “Do you still love me anymore?” It wasn’t until years later, in a liberal church with a pastor that never spoke of hell, that I was released from a fear of eternal punishment. I remember the moment well, and I cried with relief when I realized that I don’t even have to ask, his love always comes with a resounding yes.

God isn’t ready with the assembly-line judgment represented in this song, or in books like the Left Behind sagas. What kind of message does that send anyway? That’s not the gospel that Jesus preached or lived.

This same church, to show their love, shunned our family after my father gave an encouraging word to a family during a particular church service. Friends were not allowed to see or talk to me, a 7-year-old. They sure showed us. I didn’t join a church until I was well into my 30s.

To this day, I don’t understand why pastors speak condemnation to their congregations, or why books and movies depicting the utter destruction of mankind rendered by a hateful God are so incredibly popular among Christians. Personally, I’d rather read Harry Potter. And I still can’t listen to the Larry Norman song. “Hotel California” by the Eagles scared me too, but I got over that and will listen to the song in its entirety every now and then. But that other one still gives me chills.

Romans 2:4 states just what it is that leads a soul to repentance. “Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God's kindness leads you toward repentance?”

It’s the kindness, tolerance and patience, not the fiery wrath of an Almighty God, whose hands we’d rather not fall into, that softens and changes the heart.