One of my ongoing challenges as a human is my desire for people to make sense. This likely stems from my personality and the way I process information. In my walk with Jesus, there have certainly been moments that did not make sense. What I’ve come to appreciate is that God has always been patient with my questions. And while God is all‑encompassing, I’ve often found people to be far more mysterious. I’d like to share a few reflections that may help explain my perspective.

Throughout the Bible, the importance of loving God and loving our neighbors is emphasized repeatedly. Christians are instructed to love their neighbors as they love themselves. When I strip this down to its simplest form, it resembles what many of us learned early on as “The Golden Rule.” I remember being taught in primary school to do unto others as I would want them to do unto me. That teaching resonated deeply with me. Kindness, love, and respect felt intuitive and life‑giving.

As I grew older, however, I began to notice a disconnect. I encountered people who quoted Scripture, attended church regularly, and openly professed their love for God—yet their behavior toward others felt harsh or dismissive. The kindness and compassion I associated with Jesus were often absent. These individuals could articulate doctrine well and debate theology fluently, yet interactions with them rarely left me feeling drawn toward God. More often, I found myself feeling guarded, unsure how to engage without being wounded.

This has long puzzled me. How do we reconcile the belief that God is love while treating other people in ways that feel anything but loving? I once asked Copilot for insight on this, and the response resonated: people tend to judge others by their actions, while judging themselves by their intentions rather than their impact. That distinction has stayed with me.

Recently, while sharing reflections about Christianity on a new social media platform, I’ve been struck by how often faith conversations can turn combative. Some who identify as Christians engage in ways that feel more like spiritual bullying than spiritual guidance. Scripture is sometimes wielded as a weapon rather than an invitation. I’ve been called names and told I am not a Christian—often for simply sharing the direct words and teachings of Jesus. These moments have invited me to pause and reflect rather than react.

Over the years, a few things have become clearer to me:

Knowing the Bible is not the same as knowing the One it points to.

Abiding in Jesus tends to produce good fruit. Yet I’ve observed that some people’s understanding of God and Jesus is shaped less by Scripture itself and more by culture, church environments, leaders, or family systems. Their version of faith reflects what they were taught rather than what they’ve personally encountered.

I’ve also noticed how easily the desire to be “right” can overshadow the call to love. Winning arguments can become more important than honoring people. Yet love, by its nature, cannot be forced, nor can genuine relationship.

People are at vastly different stages in their walk with God. Some have experienced decades of deep, relational communion with God; others are only beginning to explore who God might be. Each person’s view of God is shaped by their experiences and vantage point, and remembering this has helped me extend more grace.

Another realization has been this: we cannot give away a kind of love we have not yet received. For me to offer agape love to my neighbor, I must first believe and receive God’s love for myself. I’ve encountered many Christians who trust God enough for salvation but still relate to God as though God were harsh, punitive, or perpetually disappointed. When someone has not fully grasped the depth, breadth, and gentleness of God’s love for them, it becomes difficult to extend that love freely to others.

I’ve also struggled to understand why some Christians passionately defend politicians, celebrities, or even celebrity Christians solely because they claim to know God. Jesus spoke plainly when He said we would recognize a tree by its fruit and that His true disciples would be known by their agape—selfless, sacrificial—love. Scripture encourages discernment, urging believers to test and examine what they see. Yet in recent years, I’ve observed a tendency to overlook harmful behavior when the individual is influential or admired. From a faith perspective, influence does not exempt anyone from accountability.

What I’ve come to understand is that humans are not only created to worship; we are also created with a deep desire to belong. When a person or movement aligns with even some of our values, it can become tempting to excuse behaviors that contradict the teachings of Jesus. Idols—whether people, platforms, or ideologies—can quietly offer a false sense of identity, safety, and belonging.

I do not claim to understand everything. I don’t. What does make sense to me are the teachings of Jesus: love God; love your neighbor as yourself; love your enemies; seek to do good and avoid intentional harm; choose honor; let your light shine. Live in a way that invites others to want to know Jesus. Care for the poor. Welcome the stranger. Serve. Seek God in relationship. Be kind to others in the faith. Pray. Forgive. Act with mercy and pursue justice.

The way Jesus lived pointed beyond Himself—to something, or rather Someone, greater. In all my years of following Jesus, I can honestly say I’ve met only a handful of people—perhaps 10 or 12—whose way of living made me want to know Him more deeply. I’ve spent most of my life in church spaces, and over time my prayer has become simple: God, help me live in a way that draws people toward Jesus, not pushes them away. That remains my hope for every follower of Jesus, myself included.

Warmly,

Erin Lamb