I was surprised when I used the word hate yesterday. The sentence "I hate this brand of Christianity" was typed as it had been thought. I paused afterward to decide whether I really meant that or not. Of course, the next sentence revealed that I did mean to use that word. Though today, I question whether or not what I feel toward this group of people is actually hatred.
True hatred is a pretty raw and ugly thing. It drives men to kill one another, or wish for another man's death in ones heart. People say love is blind and I think hatred is too. When you are full of hate you cease to be able to see any other way but hatred. It's consuming and its effects are devastating not only to the person being hated but the person hating as well.
So do I truly hate the brand of Christianity I described yesterday? Maybe not so much. I do not wish death upon these people. But anger is not out of the question. I see an injustice in the way these people treat others and it makes me angry. In their arrogance people get trampled. Perhaps a little like I trampled them yesterday in my own arrogance and pride.
Much of the brand of Christianity I wrote about yesterday is based on my old church, which is probably of little surprise. There are days when I wish I could go back and tell off the preacher and force him to understand that the way he goes about church and pastoring hurt people. But I know that my words would mean nothing to him. I can't force him to understand anything. Nothing would change in his world by anything that I would say. It would be of little use and probably only make me angrier to do such a thing.
So what do I do with this anger? I don't entirely know. Only that I need to do something with it or I'll just be bitter and angry the rest of my life. Which isn't really an attractive option...