Saying It As It Is!

While driving a few days ago, I was listening to a program on the radio and the conversation centered around the way we live as christians. A few minutes into the program, the speaker quoted one of Mahatma Gandhi’s famous sayings:

“I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” 

Ouch! Why would he make such a statement? “I like your Christ, I do not like your christians. Your christians are so unlike your Christ.” My inquiring mind led me to do some digging and what I discovered was this:

“Gandhi’s words reflect a deep admiration for the teachings and character of Christ, but also a sincere disappointment in the behavior of His followers. He respected the compassion, humility, and sacrificial love he saw in Jesus, yet he struggled with the hypocrisy he observed in many who claimed to follow Him. Gandhi believed in the principles Christ taught, but he openly criticized the actions of Christians who did not live them out. His statement serves as a powerful reminder that our faith should be seen through our actions, through integrity, love, mercy, and consistency, not just through what we say we believe.” (Palam, 2022)

Although I heard the quote before, it was still jarring - almost frightening to hear again. It reminded me that our lives preach louder than our words, and sometimes the world sees a version of Christianity that does not reflect the heart of Christ at all. It caused me to reflect on my own life, on the years when I did not represent the Lord well and to consider my walk with Christ; how I live, how I love, and what my life says about the One I claim to follow.

***

I left my home at the age of twenty-two and coming to this country felt like stepping into freedom. No parents. No rules. No one to tell me what to do. I could finally live life on my own terms. For the first few weeks, I attended church with my cousin, but I felt like a square peg in a round hole - present in body, but disconnected in spirit. I couldn’t find my footing and church felt more like an obligation than a place of belonging. 

A few months later, I was invited to attend an event by a relative. At one point during the evening, I went to the bar to order a simple Coke. Just as the bartender handed me the glass, my cousin leaned in and said, “oh, put something in this,” asking him to add rum. The moment that familiar taste touched my lips, memories flooded my mind. As a young child, one of our parents used to give us rum and coke and that taste - strong, sharp, unforgettable - opened a door to my past I had long forgotten. Without realizing, it also opened a door to choices that would shape my life for years to come. 

Over time, the pattern continued. Whether it was a house party, a family gathering, or some other event, rum kept making its way into my drinks. It didn’t matter if I asked for orange juice or Coke, someone always seemed ready to “fix it up” for me. It became normal, almost expected, and little by little, I drifted further from the life I knew God was calling me to live.

Looking back now, I can see how subtle it all was. It didn’t happen overnight. It was the slow drift, the small compromises, the quiet decisions, the moments when I went along with what everyone else was doing. I didn’t realize how far I was moving from God, because at that stage of my life, I wasn’t pursuing holiness at all.

My choices were shaping me, my environment was influencing me and though I still called myself a Christian, my life looked nothing like Christ. Gandhi’s quote could have certainly been written with me in mind, and that realization stung. It was frightening to admit that the very life I was living wasn’t reflecting the One I claimed to follow. Thankfully, that wasn’t the end. Two words: but God. 

But God, who is rich in mercy, didn’t leave me there. While I was wandering, He was watching. While I was drifting, He was calling. Even though I wasn’t representing Him well, He had already begun the slow work of drawing me back to Himself.

***

In 1988, a few of us attended our country’s Independence Gala. There weren’t many people there who knew me, so I felt comfortable to relax and kick off my shoes a bit. After dinner, the music started and once again, that same cousin came over and told us to go dance. I was too shy, so I politely declined. Moments later, a slow, romantic song began to play. My cousin nudged my then-boyfriend, now-husband and told him to take me onto the dance floor - and he did. Nothing wrong with that, right? Just a slow song, just a simple dance. Well, let me put it this way, the following year we all went back to the Gala and this time, nobody had to tell me to get on the dance floor. With a drink in hand and a sway in my step, I was having the time of my life - until I looked up and saw her…

From across the dance floor I spotted someone from my neighborhood back home and instantly felt my heart drop. She knew the “church girl” version of me and now here I was, dancing, drinking, blending into a lifestyle that didn’t match who I claimed to be. At that moment, a wave of embarrassment washed over me. I felt exposed, not just to her, but to myself. It was as if God held up a mirror and asked, “is this really who you want to become?” I slowly walked back to my seat, leaving the others on the dance floor. Suddenly, I felt the weight of where I was and what I had drifted into. It was like the Holy Spirit was quietly asking, “is this the life you really want? Is this who you are?” At that moment, something inside me shifted. I didn’t leave the event right away, but I couldn’t shake the discomfort. It was more than embarrassment, it was conviction. A quiet awareness that I was somewhere I didn’t belong, doing things that didn’t honor the God I said I believed in. Here’s the truth, even though I felt convicted, I didn’t change overnight. I still kept going to events. I still blended in. I still tried to enjoy the freedom I thought I had found. Yet every time, there was this nagging feeling, this tug on my heart, that I was living in rebellion against the One I professed to follow.

Little by little, the gap between who I claimed to be and how I was living grew wider, and each time I ignored the gentle conviction of the Holy Spirit, the emptiness grew stronger. Thankfully, God never stopped pursuing me. He didn’t condemn me, nor abandon me, iInstead, He allowed those, small, unsettling moments like that night, to whisper to my spirit:

“You’re mine. This is not who you are.”

Those whispers eventually became the thread that eventually began pulling me back to Him.

One day, my mother and father-in-law invited me and one of my dancing buddies on a trip across the island. It was our first time going there, and neither of us had ever visited there before. On our way back, we began talking about the lives we were living since coming to Canada. I had been living a backslidden life. I wasn’t praying, I wasn’t reading my Bible and I was forsaking assembling with the saints. At that moment, we agreed it was time to straighten up. We started holding weekly prayer meetings, but even then, something still felt incomplete.

I then realized what Jesus meant in Mark 2:22: “And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. For the wine would burst the wineskins, and both the wine and the skins would be lost. New wine calls for new wineskins.” That’s exactly what we were trying to do, pour new habits and new commitments into an old, untransformed and unsanctified heart; however, something, or rather, Someone, was still missing from my life. It was only when I reached the end of myself that I began to see just how deeply I needed God’s transforming presence.

I thank God, because He never gave up on me, and by His mercy, He changed my life for good; He’s still changing me daily through the miraculous work of sanctification and thankfully,  these changes are becoming more evident in my day to day experiences. 

A couple of years ago, I attended an event with my husband and the organizer rented two charter buses. As I was about to board one, he said to me, “Debbie, you don’t want to go on this bus, it’s a party bus.” Why did he say that? I believe it’s because he knew I was a christian and did not partake in that lifestyle. We eventually boarded, and not long after we took off, the music started, and I realized exactly what he meant. I was so embarrassed as to what was happening, that I closed my eyes and rested my head on my husband for the entire journey. Later I got to see the full behavior of the christians on the bus because a couple videos were posted.  

Now, whenever I see christians involved in practices that do not align with God’s word, I no longer judge them, but rather pray that God transforms their hearts and gives them a desire to walk in accordance to His precepts. 

I often wonder what unbelievers think when they see Christians living the same sinful lives they do, yet still claiming to be followers of Christ. I remember sharing with one of my daughters something I heard a pastor say on YouTube. He was in the middle of a divorce and openly admitted that he had already begun dating the woman who would later become his wife, even before the divorce was finalized. He boldly declared that he wasn’t going to let his “soon-to-be ex-wife” keep him from being happy. I sat there thinking, but Pastor, you are still married. What troubled me even more was the reaction of the people listening—some clapped, others cheered. They were celebrating something that clearly goes against the very standard God has called us to uphold.

So when I heard Gandhi’s quote that morning, I realized how loudly those words still echo today. God, please don’t allow me to be a hindrance to anyone, I quietly prayed, as I would never want to learn that my lifestyle became a stumbling block on someone else’s path to faith.

“So you must live as God’s obedient children. Don’t slip back into your old ways of living to satisfy your own desires. You didn’t know any better then. But now you must be holy in everything you do, just as God who chose you is holy. For the Scriptures say, ‘You must be holy because I am holy.’”

1 Peter 1: 14–16

God’s standard of living is holiness. So the next time you are tempted to conform to the pattern of this world in order to fit in with the crowd, please pause for a moment and remember that holiness still matters. Our witness still matters and someone’s journey toward Christ may depend on the life we choose to live.

In the words of my Pastor’s wife. 

 “You were made to stand out, not to blend in.

Don’t trade your peace for popularity or your calling for company.

The friends of the world may shine for a moment,

but those who walk with wisdom shine forever.” 

I leave you with this question:

Is my life shining brightly enough to lead others to Christ, or has it grown so dull that

it no longer draws anyone to Him?

Works Cited

Palam, B. (2022) Did Gandhi Say This About Christians?