In, Not Of

"You can't be serious!" Beth Anderson shouted angrily. "Where did you find that?!"

Her friend, Devin Connors, merely shrugged. "It was an article I found on the internet. I was looking up news on that new Christian movie that's coming out this year, but I saw a link and went for it."

Beth made an outraged noise and crossed her arms, taking a few deep breaths before she spoke. "...okay, give it to me straight. What exactly happened, according to the article?"

"A man in London had a sign that said 'Stop Immorality, Stop Homosexuality, Stop Lesbianism', and he was assaulted by a lot of people that passed him by. The British courts tried him and gave him a sentence for 'breaking the peace', they said."

"I've just about had enough with this!" She exclaimed. "I mean, since when does carrying a sign that states one's beliefs equal a jail sentence?"

Devin snorted. "When it causes a rioting mob to attack him."

It was a moment before Beth could say anything. "It just doesn't seem right, Dev."

"What doesn't?"

She leveled a stare at him. "Persecution nowadays. I mean, the instant a Christian shows that they're even the slightest bit human, their enemies, the press, EVERYONE is all over it! Why does that happen?"

"We're an imperfect race, Beth -- of course stuff like that is gonna happen."

"Then why can't everyone else accept the fact that everyone is equal in their sins? I mean, we'll never be perfect; only Christ achieved perfection," she finished quickly.

Devin sighed. "It's because we're a fallen race that they can't accept it. I mean, think about it: if someone told you that you were going to eternally burn in an horrific place called Hell unless you repented and asked Christ to come into your heart, wouldn't YOU be a little angry?"

"Dunno," she admitted quietly. "My family has been in the church since before I was born -- I grew up with Presbyterian theology, predestination, the Elect... I've just always known that Jesus was there for me, you know?"

"Maybe that's why this is so hard for you to comprehend." He stood and sighed, shaking his head. "It's been five years since I became a Christian, but I still remember what it was like to try and be like everyone else. The good kids with the cross necklace were always the ones we'd push into the mud after school. But everything changed, and slowly I'm beginning to understand everything as it comes my way."

Beth threw him a level stare. "Then tell me this: How can our high school show a video about sex without being worried about offending some of the students, but we're no longer allowed to pray before football games?" Devin remained quiet, for he knew his friend wasn't finished. "Why is it that movies with the 'F' word 177 times is perfectly acceptable to audiences, but the instant a movie about Christ's death tries to come onto the market, it's shunned by most theaters, producing companies, and even most film companies?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

"How is it," she continued, "that America can no longer have a moment of silent prayer, so we have a 'moment of silence' instead? Why could FDR lead the entire nation in prayer over the radio during Pearl Harbor and World War Two, and yet George W. Bush can't so much pray on TV without being ridiculed?"

Devin sighed. "I don't know, Beth."

"Neither do I," she said quietly, sitting back down with her head in her hands. "Neither do I..."