Running With Perseverance

I used to have a few cross necklaces—a simple gold cross, a small silver cross with colored stones—but the only one I can still find is the one I call my blingy cross. It’s big. It’s shiny. It’s sparkly. I love how it looks with certain tops. But I rarely wear it because I worry about the message I might send with the sign of the cross.

I started this post before the Supreme Court issued it’s ruling in 303 Creative LLC v. Elenis which underscores the struggles I write about here.

The Sign Of The Cross

It’s been a while since I’ve written about my faith, so for those of you who are relatively new around here, let me start by explaining that the church I belong to proclaims that love is love, ordains gay priests, and celebrates gay marriages. We believe all people are created and loved by God. We believe Black Lives Matter—and recognize the need to address systemic racism, unconscious bias, and pervasive socioeconomic divisions. We believe life begins at conception, but also in a woman’s right to choose. We understand it is human nature to draw lines and emphasize distinctions, but God calls us to love all our neighbors—and doesn’t recognize our limited conception of “neighbor.”

Yet, I am reluctant to wear my cross necklace because being “Christian” has come to be associated with the opposite of nearly all my core beliefs as a Christian.

I am reluctant to wear my cross necklace, because I don’t want people to take it as a sign that I don’t support gay marriage, or LGBTQ+ rights, or Black Lives Matter, or a woman’s right to choose. Or worse—to take it as a sign that I want to proclaim an anti-LGBTQ/anti-choice viewpoint. On the other hand, I hate to cede Christianity to the haters.

Whatever happened to Christians being known for love?

Maybe I need a blingy rainbow cross necklace?

Do you make assumptions about someone wearing a cross?