Opinions expressed in columns on The Central Trend are the view of the individual writer and are not the opinion of the entire staff of The Central Trend or the Forest Hills Central staff or administration.
My dad always tells me I am a person of multitudes.
The many aspects of my identities I hold and the many communities I’m a part of can’t be put in a box. I’m an exception to almost all of the stereotypes of my many identities. However, out of my multitudes, one is my top priority; if someone asked for my one identity that was supreme over all the others, I would say “Christian.”
Though Christianity is the most popular religion in the United States and is especially dominant in Western Michigan, I still often feel alone in it. Sure, I see cross necklaces and “What Would Jesus Do” bracelets all over, but I always have to question if these are the types of Christians who use their religion as a lazy and, frankly, nonsensical excuse to be hateful towards those different from them, or as a safety net, in case fiery lakes and eternal torment do exist. Or maybe the type who go to church every Sunday as an obligation, simply because they were raised to do so.
I believe that the Bible teaches us to be like Christ, and I live my life accordingly. But am I going to expect others to see through that same lens or hold my non-Christian friends and family to that standard? No. It doesn’t make sense.
The reality is that not everyone is Christian. While I know that since becoming more earnest in my faith, I’ve been happier, less anxious, and all around a more successful person, I also believe that one can experience this same peace and joy from Islam, or from Judaism, or from atheism. I will not rule others or judge others based on my own personal morals and principles; they have their own, and it is my responsibility to love them regardless.
But there is a certain inherent connection I feel with like-minded people. An unspoken shared experience of being trans is something I can only find in queer spaces. The same is true with musicians or younger siblings.
I wish I could be able to ignore the differences between me and other Christians. I want to be the type of person who can ignore them and find comfort in our shared love of God. However, I fail to feel this same connection with other Christians, likely because of this intense division in the church. Christianity has over 45,000 different denominations, all with a unique set of beliefs on everything from baptism to the afterlife to how to take communion—dip the bread in the wine or take the elements separately?
It causes a bit of uncertainty: will this person accept me, even though I’m gay?
Some of the specifics get a little silly—I don’t think you’re going to be doomed to eternal damnation if you use distilled water for a baptism—but this division is causing real, life-changing problems. It gets to a point where I wonder—and this is a genuine question—if some of these “Christians” are truly asking what Jesus would do. Jesus, who flipped the tables of the moneychangers who were exploiting the poor and needy in the temple, who dined with lepers and the people society hated, who loved children and who empowered women—what would he do? Would he turn a blind eye to a genocide being committed by a government that uses his name? Would he try to stop two people who love each other more than anything from being married? Would he revoke a woman’s right to her own autonomy? Would he?
Jesus was a radical who flipped all stereotypes and assumptions of what the Messiah would be upside down.
If anything else, in all my imperfections and relapses into the same sin over and over again, I know I can look to God for what is right and good, and that brings me eternal peace.
Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night. (Psalm 1.1-2)
Kathryn Campbell • May 30, 2025 at 9:45 pm
sophia this is so good