What is purity?
The Free Dictionary defines purity as:
1. The quality or condition of being pure.
2. A quantitative assessment of homogeneity or uniformity.
3. Freedom from sin or guilt; innocence; chastity: “Teach your children . . . the belief in purity of body, mind and soul” (Emmeline Pankhurst).
4. The absence in speech or writing of slang or other elements deemed inappropriate to good style.
5. The degree to which a color is free from being mixed with other colors.
I find these definitions interesting.
And I’m going to say something shocking.
I don’t want my kids to be pure.
And I don’t mean virginity. Because the Christian community has hyped that all up and set ridiculous rules and bent them to suit twisted desires and legalism as each denomination sees fit. Purity isn’t about sex at all. We don’t teach the purity thing.
Purity is an attitude.
I want my kids to be dirty. I want them to get dirt under their fingernails. I want them to experience life and God and all the in-betweens.
I don’t want them to be pure, emotionless, unbroken, crystal clean in their ivory towers. I don’t want them to remain unaware about the horrors of this fallen world and unable to do something about it.
I don’t want my kids to be uniform. I want them to dance to their own drummer. I want them to be original, unique. I want them to know who they are. I want them to be on a mission. I want them to be confident in their spiritual gifts.
I want my kids to be unashamed. I want them to be strong and realize they are God’s princesses and prince. And royalty has its privileges. I want them to be responsible and use their power for good. I want them to be servant leaders. I don’t want them to be followers. I want them to use their talents and abilities and intelligence for the glory of God.
I want my kids to be inappropriate when it’s necessary. If we’re called to be missionaries, then how can we reach anyone for Christ with our white upper middle class accents and grammatically correct English? Learn the pidgin or dialect or language of God’s peoples so we can reach them for Christ. #endBiblepoverty! Christ ate with sinners and the outcasts of society. They’re my people too. I am most at home with those who aren’t afraid to be real. The cussers, the tattooed, the pierced, the broken, the unlovable, the lost. I don’t want my kids to live in a bubble.
I want my kids to get in the trenches and “mix with other colors.” I grew up in a racist time in Georgia. It’s probably still like that in some places, but it was sadly alive and well when I was in high school. I have untaught myself to see color. I see beauty. I see Jesus. I want my kids to see the art of our Creator in every skin color and hair texture, in the palest blue eye and the darkest brown eye.
I want my kids’ consciences to be at unrest every night that there’s a lost soul, a potential world leader in some forgotten third world country who needs Jesus, a mother who needs medicine and a hug, a baby who needs a loving and safe home, a grandma who needs to know she’s important and not disregarded.
I want them to be wrecked. I don’t expect them to be pure.