PRELL: See you at Salt

Jesse Antelman, junior in health and human performance, leads worship during Anthem on May 2, 2008, at Cornerstone Church of Ames. Anthem is put on during the Friday of Dead Week every semester. File Photo: Iowa State Daily

Tim Young

Jesse Antelman, junior in health and human performance, leads worship during Anthem on May 2, 2008, at Cornerstone Church of Ames. Anthem is put on during the Friday of Dead Week every semester. File Photo: Iowa State Daily

Sophie Prell

I need to meet more Christians.

When I sat with the congregation at Cornerstone Church for the weekly Salt Company meeting on Thursday, it suddenly occurred to me I had been holding onto a stereotypical and unrealistic image of what a Christian is.

I looked around and I saw nearly every category of people imaginable. There were blacks, whites, Asians, Latinos, people with disabilities, people with tattoos and people with piercings.

And here I thought all the Christian boys wore long-sleeve blue button-up dress shirts and khakis, while all the Christian girls wore full-length plaid skirts and plain blouses, which wasn’t the case at all.

One young man wore a tight purple T-shirt, gauged ear plugs, a pink-and-white belt, tight blue jeans and black loafers. One girl sported a punk haircut framing her face, which, including her ears, is home to eight piercings. Had you asked me to describe a Christian several weeks ago, I can tell you these attributes would not have come to mind.

But let’s rewind, shall we? What was I doing at Salt Company. as a politically left-leaning transgender girl and adamant non-Christian?

Due to Uhuru and my increased exposure on campus, one member from the congregation by the name of Samantha requested to meet with me so we could hold a respectful dialogue.

Sipping away at my strawberry smoothie while she drank her tea, we constructively discussed our differences in perspective, our pasts and more.

Samantha didn’t pass judgment on me. She didn’t tell me I was wrong and she would pray for me to leave my heathen ways. She didn’t threaten me and say I must come to know Jesus before I burn forever in a lake of fire.

This isn’t to say she agreed with or even understood my life, but she was trying to and I appreciated that. When all was said and done, she didn’t ask me to come to Salt Company.

And interestingly enough, that’s why I came.

Like Frodo approaching Mount Doom, I have to admit I was maybe just a teensy little bit nervous. Maybe.

My experiences with Christians in the past hadn’t been anything like meeting and chatting with Samantha. If anything, they had been the antithesis of Samantha: judgmental, damning and completely unwilling to so much listen to another’s point of view, let alone try to understand or accept it. I think I had some justification in my anxiety.

And then I saw those people who challenged my conceptions of Christians. Mr. Purple Shirt, Ms. Septum Piercing, and Mr. God Is My Ecstasy, hands raised high as he sang from the bottom of his heart and top of his lungs. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as genuinely happy as I saw him and others in the crowd that night.

Not only that, but when Alex Tuckness, associate professor of political science and speaker for Salt Company, recited lines not of condemnation but of humility, my curiosity roused. According to the New International Version Bible’s translation of Romans 9:20, “But who are you, O man, to talk back to God?”

Tuckness went on to discuss the meaning and impact of the passage, asking the crowd, “Why should we think that we can comprehend all of God’s creations?”

What strikes me is just how differently people can interpret this passage and Tuckness’ question. As I sat there pondering what it all meant for me, it crossed my mind that if God exists, I am indeed one of his creations. In fact, if he exists, we would all be his creations, regardless of any categorization we could possibly conceive as humans.

And who are we to say that we understand his creations? Who are we to pass judgment?

I don’t know why I am the way I am, but I know I don’t feel any condemnation when trying to pluck answers from the mystical pool of knowledge lying just beyond our human perception.

I know that’s something I can’t rationally explain, just like I can’t rationally explain why the one time Samantha didn’t ask if the person she was talking to would like to join her for worship was the time she spoke to me. The lack of that question was a main reason for my attendance.

I still don’t believe in God with a capital G, I still find a lot of Christian teachings to be somewhat self-deprecating, I’ve seen a lot of Christian hypocrisy and I’m still unsure about Yeshua being the Savior.

But even under the shadow of so much doubt, I think I’ll keep going to Salt Company for now. We may disagree, we may not understand each other, we may even think of each other as pretty weird or even lowly at times, but there’s something I’ve found I need to start acknowledging:

Just because Christians believe in a supposedly higher standard of morality, that doesn’t make them perfect. Yes, they should still perpetually work to be better people, as should we all. Love thy neighbor as thyself, treat others as you would like to be treated, live and let live, encourage people to be happy, et cetera. But people make mistakes.

So surprise, surprise, Sophie. Christians are people too.

– Sophie Prell is a junior in pre-journalism and mass communication from Alta.