Love the Sinner

I enjoyed my niece’s observations on “evangelicals” (“Do You Really Believe?” February) and attended the church she speaks of in Phillipsburg, Missouri. when I was her age. I don’t recall a fervor for a literal interpretation of the Bible particularly espoused, but I know many of the church members there did have those views. I did not hear anyone say that the farmers and wives attending the Presbyterian church across the unpaved road were definitely bound for the Lake of Eternal Fire—although again, it’s no doubt that some in the church felt that way. The belief in God, the proper view of His plan, and the correct way to worship Him, were of high importance to most of the community—so much so that a local church was divided over the picture of the church founder hanging in the auditorium. Half the church split away and built their own church, without any portraits of founders. One town had no less than four different kinds of Baptists. Despite the fractious appearance, however, the members of all these small rural Missouri churches were united in their certainty about one thing: Atheists like Alyssa (and me) were definitely going to Hell. Even a Catholic, a Mormon, or a Muslim had a better shot at the Pearly Gates than a godless heathen.

Me, I liked going to that church growing up, because of the friends and family that went there. The people there are warm, generous, and giving to a fault, and love me even though I don’t profess to love their God.
Keith Ford, Fort Mohave, AZ