It is this time of year when I start seeing the slogan "Don't take CHRIST out of Christmas" and "It's not XMAS its CHRISTmas" on social media sites, bumper stickers, signs in yards and other places.
There is also a fight in my area over a nativity scene that is on display on the lawn of a court house, placed there by a nonprofit group and not the government, and some anti-religious organization from a state way up north wants it removed and is threatening legal action. The people of this small community are upset about it as it is attacking their fundamental belief system, years of tradition, and quiet frankly its Yankees sticking their nose in something that doesn't concern them.
We in the South really don't get Yankee thought processes (we actually question if they exist) and I guess Yankees don't get us either. I am constantly amazed with folks who fight so hard against something they don't believe in. A little twisted if you ask me. I don't believe in the Easter Bunny but I really don't care if you do. I'm not going to protest your easter egg hunt.
Their leader was quoted as saying all the normal propaganda about church/state endorsement blah blah blah. I wish these folks would do a little historical fact finding before running with the KoolAide mantra. If someone would take the historical background of what and why the 1st Amend was written, as people should take the historical and cultural climate into consideration when reading the Bible, they would understand this a little better and maybe chill out. Probably not going to happen. What do folks think we are celebrating with the Christmas holidays anyway? It IS a religious holiday. I bet they take the day off for it. It is historically the celebration of the birth of the Christ Child (yes, the church co-opted a pagan holidaybut still), so if that is the case whats the harm of displaying a scene depicting the misrepresented birth nativity story?
I wonder if these folks exchange gifts with people during the holidays. So far it is still known as christmas presents and not yet politically correct terminology of "holiday gifts". Do they know by doing this they are recreating the story of the gifts brought to the christ child?
So I'm starting another movement. Lets take the MAS out of Christmas. The MAS is all that hoopla that goes with the holiday. The tremendous amounts of commercialism. The steady stream of sales papers, tv ads, and newspaper inserts that inundate us with STUFF we MUST have and THINGS they will LOVE. Materialism. Consumerism. An industry based upon a simple story of gift presentations to the Christ Child in the new testament. Lets do away with the buying something for uncle Ralph because we have to. Lets not convince our kids that Christmas is all about THEM and give them the latest gadget that they do not need. Lets do away with the materialism that causes so much sadness for the have nots when flaunted in front of them by the haves. Lets do away with the ridiculously priced items that really says how much you love someone (insert a big diamond ring or the latest Xbox or whatever) when we have people who are wondering how they are going to feed their children, much less give them gifts.
Yes. Lets take the MAS out of Christmas. Lets just have the CHRIST.
Lets see what He would think about all of this ChistMAS stuff.
Oh....who am I kidding. ~npp
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
GET IN THERE MAVERICK!
One of my favorite movies from my impressionable teenage years was TOP GUN with Tom Cruise, Meg Ryan and other notable actors. Reflective of the times we lived in the movie centers around a Navy fighter pilot Maverick (Tom Cruise) who struggles with ghosts from his past and feels he has many things to prove. He is good and pushes the envelope in his flying to tempt the fates and thumb his nose at danger. He feels immortal, invincible, and on more than one occassion places himself and others in danger because he feels he can come out on Top. Cheat Death.
He cannot. In the blink of an eye, a routine fighter plane move exercise move turns deadly and he looses his best friend "Goose" after having to eject from the F14.
Mavericks world just turned on him and he is left with a sense of deep sorrow and guilt, second guessing himself and his whole apprach to flying.
And it cripples him.
Life is like that scene for many of us. As I reflect on my early childhood years, it seems as if I was a spectator in this thing called life, secure in my own little bubble and watching the world move around me in its busyness and routine. I did not have to concern myself with the cares of the day as I had parents who did that for me. I was simply allowed to exist. Of course as we grow older we start taking a more active part in life and all the responsibilities that come along with that. We learn a few things in school, apply them in a job, start relationships and have families, finance mortgages and auto loans, get involved with civic functions or church or politics or all of the above, and before we know it we are fully involved in life. Not sure how that all happened but we are in no longer merely observing it hapenning around us, but are fully involved in the dog fight.
and to be fully involved means taking risks. and like Maverick sometimes those risks are very costly to us and knocks us down for a while. We know longer carry that fighter pilot swagger we once had, and approach life a little more cautiously, a little less vulnerable to lessen the inevitable pain we will more than likely feel again at some point. To soften the blows of a hardened world that, with one mistake in a routine exercise in your day, is waiting to deal you a blow that'll take your wings and keep you grounded.
A later scene has Maverick with a new copilot and they are ordered to the Mediteranian Sea to help other American pilots who are engaged with enemy pilots in a dogfight. As they launch from the aircraft carrier and proceed to the dogfight Maverick is aware of the ghosts that haunt him. He is rehearsing life in his head. As they approach the dogfight from a distance they can see the mayhem and manuevering of all of the engaged aircraft and Maverick decides to not engage. He sees the ugliness and decides not to risk it, leaving his comrades in peril and certain death as they are outnumbered. Mavericks copilot starts yelling over the intercom "GET IN THERE MAVERICK" over and over and finally Maverick decides that its worth the risk and enters the fight, and of course comes out on top.
Often we've been attacked and hurt and wounded so deeply that we would prefer to "set this one out" or not engage. Its too risky. We prefer to watch from the sidelines. We may even gear up but set on the bench the whole time. Our fear of whatever is debilitating.
My encouragement for you today if you find yourself in this place is to slowly re-engage. Life is meant to be lived, not observed. Yes doing so may make you open to more risks in life, you may find yourself in a few scary situations, you may feel vulnerable... But you may also feel ALIVE, LOVED, and maybe, just maybe, will get a little of that swagger back in your walk.
GET IN THERE MAVERICK! (or whatever cool pilot name you have for yourself)
~npp
Saturday, June 4, 2011
The Day I Shook the Gates of Heaven
I can still remember the darkness of the place overall with its woodgrain paneling and illuminated beer signs that doubled as a clock or a Marlboro adverstisement. The smell of cheap aftershaves like AquaVelva and Old Spice and Black Leather intermingled with the cigarette smoke and bar drinks. For a quarter, an old jukebox would spin three of your favorite Loretta Lynn, Waylon Jennings or Red Sovine songs that were on the top of the charts in the early 1970s. There was a pool table centered in the small open area of the local VFW hall where I spent many of my childhood days hanging out with my father, who was a member and local commander of the place.
If you are not familiar with VFW halls, they are where Veterans of Foreign Wars came to hang out after serving their country in a designated war zone. These were guys and gals who had seen some bad stuff, participated in it, and was the recepient of all that war had to offer them in return. Some were disable, some were now alcoholics, others just came back to their little towns changed in some form or fashion, and came to the VFW hall to hang out with others who had similar experiences.
And as with any place you have lots of folks, you inevitable get the jerks, egoists and outright assholes of society mystically blended. Including church, work, school, whatever your social gathering is, you know what I mean. One of my favorite old Far Side comics strips showed God as a chef (apron and hat complete) with the world in his left had (as if he had just created it) and with his right hand holding a salt shaker over it in a sprinkling fashion (the salt shaker said JERKS) and the caption read "and just too make it interesting...".
I was probably around 8 years old, hanging out in this environment with my father. I never did feel comfortable there. Ever. It felt strangely at odds with most everything I felt inside. A stark contrast from the beautiful church with stained glass windows, tall white columns, beautiful portraits of scenes from Jesus' life and parables that we attended on sundays and cleaned during the week for extra money. I always felt comfortable, and in some respects, in the presence of the Almighty there. Where one place blared old country music and laughter and coarse language the other provided reflection and quiet and wisdom.
One evening my father came home from the VFW hall extremely angry, I guess fighting mad would be the word. Some drunk had gotten in his face at the VFW and basically challenged his manhood or something (which was a common scenario there...i learned at an early age to instantly drop and get under the pool table when a fight would break out). My dad came home telling this to my mom who was trying to calm him down, and the more he talked the madder he got. I then heard these words from my Dad "I'm going back there to settle this" and he walked out of the front door with my mom pleading with him not too.
and I ran.
I ran as fast as my little legs would carry me.
Ran to the back bedroom. to the small bathroom and shut the door and fell to my knees in front of the porcelain toilet and prayed like I had never prayed before. Little boy hands clasped together tightly and eyes shut so hard they hurt. I felt it. I felt myself praying so hard that I shook the gates of heavan. If God cannot hear the pleading prayers of a scared eight year old, then something in the heavens is wrong.
and then I heard something. It sounded like my mom opening the front door a minute or so later. It was my dad. he was coming back in. He told mom that as he was getting in his car something told him to stop and go back in the house. And he was no longer really mad about it. Still angry about the asshole who treated him that way, but not mad enough to go shrink to that fellows level.
and I was amazed.
I knew then, as I do know, that God actually heard and honored my prayer. Some may call it coincidence or chalk it up to being an eight year old who also believed in Santa Clause at the time, but I know within me that it was God. There have only been two or three times in my life I have had the experience where I was honestly begging god with everything i had thru prayer for something and I knew without a doubt He heard me and answered.
It is truly amazing to experience that. Too literally shake the gates of heaven and feel the response of the Almighty is humbling. Of course I still pray about this or that and it seems rather routine, and I'm not really sure my expectations are that each one will receive the same fanfare as my earlier experiences. And I'm not sure they should.
But sometime, somewhere and some point in your life, you will find yourself running as fast as you can to that safe little place where you will poor your heart and soul out to the living God, begging and pleading. Here's hoping that you Shake The Gates of Heaven. ~npp
If you are not familiar with VFW halls, they are where Veterans of Foreign Wars came to hang out after serving their country in a designated war zone. These were guys and gals who had seen some bad stuff, participated in it, and was the recepient of all that war had to offer them in return. Some were disable, some were now alcoholics, others just came back to their little towns changed in some form or fashion, and came to the VFW hall to hang out with others who had similar experiences.
And as with any place you have lots of folks, you inevitable get the jerks, egoists and outright assholes of society mystically blended. Including church, work, school, whatever your social gathering is, you know what I mean. One of my favorite old Far Side comics strips showed God as a chef (apron and hat complete) with the world in his left had (as if he had just created it) and with his right hand holding a salt shaker over it in a sprinkling fashion (the salt shaker said JERKS) and the caption read "and just too make it interesting...".
I was probably around 8 years old, hanging out in this environment with my father. I never did feel comfortable there. Ever. It felt strangely at odds with most everything I felt inside. A stark contrast from the beautiful church with stained glass windows, tall white columns, beautiful portraits of scenes from Jesus' life and parables that we attended on sundays and cleaned during the week for extra money. I always felt comfortable, and in some respects, in the presence of the Almighty there. Where one place blared old country music and laughter and coarse language the other provided reflection and quiet and wisdom.
One evening my father came home from the VFW hall extremely angry, I guess fighting mad would be the word. Some drunk had gotten in his face at the VFW and basically challenged his manhood or something (which was a common scenario there...i learned at an early age to instantly drop and get under the pool table when a fight would break out). My dad came home telling this to my mom who was trying to calm him down, and the more he talked the madder he got. I then heard these words from my Dad "I'm going back there to settle this" and he walked out of the front door with my mom pleading with him not too.
and I ran.
I ran as fast as my little legs would carry me.
Ran to the back bedroom. to the small bathroom and shut the door and fell to my knees in front of the porcelain toilet and prayed like I had never prayed before. Little boy hands clasped together tightly and eyes shut so hard they hurt. I felt it. I felt myself praying so hard that I shook the gates of heavan. If God cannot hear the pleading prayers of a scared eight year old, then something in the heavens is wrong.
and then I heard something. It sounded like my mom opening the front door a minute or so later. It was my dad. he was coming back in. He told mom that as he was getting in his car something told him to stop and go back in the house. And he was no longer really mad about it. Still angry about the asshole who treated him that way, but not mad enough to go shrink to that fellows level.
and I was amazed.
I knew then, as I do know, that God actually heard and honored my prayer. Some may call it coincidence or chalk it up to being an eight year old who also believed in Santa Clause at the time, but I know within me that it was God. There have only been two or three times in my life I have had the experience where I was honestly begging god with everything i had thru prayer for something and I knew without a doubt He heard me and answered.
It is truly amazing to experience that. Too literally shake the gates of heaven and feel the response of the Almighty is humbling. Of course I still pray about this or that and it seems rather routine, and I'm not really sure my expectations are that each one will receive the same fanfare as my earlier experiences. And I'm not sure they should.
But sometime, somewhere and some point in your life, you will find yourself running as fast as you can to that safe little place where you will poor your heart and soul out to the living God, begging and pleading. Here's hoping that you Shake The Gates of Heaven. ~npp
Friday, May 20, 2011
so what would you be doing
A headline in today's newspaper simply asked "If you knew the world was ending tomorrow, what would you do?". Supposedly another apocalyptic group thinks the world will end tomorrow, which if true will play havoc with my romantic intentions for the weekend, not too mention my retirement plans.
I really have no idea how these folks come up with this stuff. End of the World. Doomsday. Armageddon. The Rapture. Judgement Day. whatever. I guess it makes good headlines and gives people something to think about. Their mortality.
Sure, the possibility exists that it could all come to a halt tomorrow, and with my luck I'll probably be standing is some check out line that has the little flashing light on waiting for a supervisor... well you know what I mean. Or it could happen before I finish this senten.... (LOL)
You just never know. And know one else does either. Since the days of Jesus somebody has been thinking the end of the world is near. The disciples thought they would see it before they passed away. Didn't happen. People thought that the Civil War, The Great Depression, WWI and II and Hitler and whatever else was the end of the world. Nope, still here folks.
and its doubtful it will all come to a halt tomorrow either. so if your mortgage payment is due Monday, I would suggest mailing it off today.
So back to the headline. What would you be doing if this were the last day? My hope is that if you are a christian, that you would be doing whatever it is that you are doing at this exact moment. Or any moment. Every moment.
Loving others. Being a plus positive in this world. Making a difference. I hope that your answer is nothing out of the ordinary because it was ordinary people that Jesus asked to follow him. Nothing special was required.
Its like the parable of the 10 virgins and the lamps, we should always live as if the return of Jesus was imminent. Not in fear, but in anticipation. And not idly or passively awaiting either, but in serving. In being in relationship with one another.
I don't know if it will happen today or tomorrow or my lifetime or a thousand years or a million years from now, and frankly I don't care one way or another.
Jesus said only the father knows the day and time, so who am I to worry about it.
So what would I be doing? Exactly this.
Enjoy. ~npp
I really have no idea how these folks come up with this stuff. End of the World. Doomsday. Armageddon. The Rapture. Judgement Day. whatever. I guess it makes good headlines and gives people something to think about. Their mortality.
Sure, the possibility exists that it could all come to a halt tomorrow, and with my luck I'll probably be standing is some check out line that has the little flashing light on waiting for a supervisor... well you know what I mean. Or it could happen before I finish this senten.... (LOL)
You just never know. And know one else does either. Since the days of Jesus somebody has been thinking the end of the world is near. The disciples thought they would see it before they passed away. Didn't happen. People thought that the Civil War, The Great Depression, WWI and II and Hitler and whatever else was the end of the world. Nope, still here folks.
and its doubtful it will all come to a halt tomorrow either. so if your mortgage payment is due Monday, I would suggest mailing it off today.
So back to the headline. What would you be doing if this were the last day? My hope is that if you are a christian, that you would be doing whatever it is that you are doing at this exact moment. Or any moment. Every moment.
Loving others. Being a plus positive in this world. Making a difference. I hope that your answer is nothing out of the ordinary because it was ordinary people that Jesus asked to follow him. Nothing special was required.
Its like the parable of the 10 virgins and the lamps, we should always live as if the return of Jesus was imminent. Not in fear, but in anticipation. And not idly or passively awaiting either, but in serving. In being in relationship with one another.
I don't know if it will happen today or tomorrow or my lifetime or a thousand years or a million years from now, and frankly I don't care one way or another.
Jesus said only the father knows the day and time, so who am I to worry about it.
So what would I be doing? Exactly this.
Enjoy. ~npp
Friday, May 13, 2011
just what are you advertising?
The New York Yankees. Arguably one of the best teams in Major League Baseball of all times. 27 World Series Championships to date. The best talent money can buy. And I can't stand them. They are like the Pittsburg Steelers, Washington Redskins or Phil Eagles versus my Dallas Cowboys of the 1970s and 1980s. So any team that is playing against the Yankees I am for. Okay, maybe not so much "for them" as against the Yankees.
Anyway, I got tickets to the Texas Rangers v. NY Yankees game this past Saturday night in Arlington Texas. The Ballpark in Arlington it is called. Very original I know. But its a beautiful ballpark. It was a lovely day in Texas with the temps in the upper 70s and a nice breeze. And we beat the Yankees. Icing on the cake. Lubberly. I was setting 33 rows behind the Yankee dugout amongst a horde of obnoxious Yankees fans, so it was tremendously satisfying to watch Feliz, the closing pitcher, shut them down in the 9th inning.
So its 10:15pm on a Saturday and we exit the ballpark with, and I'm serious, 49,500 plus other people. Yep, that's a lot. But its fine. We go to our parking lot, find the vehicle and begin the long trek out of the parking lot.
Now the parking lot has ONE exit to a ONE WAY street with another street that is feeding into it and cars coming from all directions in the parking lot. As each car would approach the exit they would allow the car from the other direction to pull ahead of them. Taking turns so too speak. Very Polite. Slow. But polite.
So I make it to the street 15 minutes after getting in my vehicle and began to merge with the oncoming vehicles. Each person in the lane of traffic was letting the parking lot cars move in front, one car would allow another to get in front of them, then the next car would do the same, and so on.
Except...
When it came my turn to merge the next vehicle in line, a minivan, didn't share. I put my little blinker indicator on and they surged forward and closed the gap between themselves and the car in front of them (that had allowed the car in front of me to merge). I said nice. So I sat there until they moved forward at a snail's pace and the vehicle behind them let me merge in the lane. Whatever.
Then it caught my eye. That little piece of chrome attached to the back of the minivan that refused to allow me to merge. The shiny piece of chrome that we all know and love. Yes. The Christian Fish symbol.
I looked around at the other vehicles and no one else seemed to be advertising the fact that they were a christian. Nope, not a cross or fish or anything that I could see. Except all the other vehicles were allowing others the courtesy to merge in front of them. Kind of a do unto others concept. Kind of acting like Christians. Maybe kind of doing what Jesus would ask us to do.
I found it ironic. The one person who advertised themselves as a christian was the only one who wasn't acting like one.
Now I'm as bad as anyone else. Not expecting perfection by no means. But really, what are you trying to advertise with those little christian symbols on the back of your vehicle? Or on your lapel? Or your jewelry?
I think it makes us feel good to advertise our faith. Its much easier for sure. Anyone can glue a symbol on a car or put a piece of jewelry on or wear a catchy t-shirt with a clever christian saying on it.
I would suggest this. Advertise your faith by living it. If you don't intend to do that then please, for the love of God (pun intended) take that fish symbol off of your car. Take off that t-shirt and put the James Avery cross jewelry back in the box. Your giving us a bad name.
Everyone else was living out the philosophy of Christ except the one advertising it.
In the words of St. Francis of Assisi "preach the gospel at all times. use words only when necessary".
Amen. ~npp
Anyway, I got tickets to the Texas Rangers v. NY Yankees game this past Saturday night in Arlington Texas. The Ballpark in Arlington it is called. Very original I know. But its a beautiful ballpark. It was a lovely day in Texas with the temps in the upper 70s and a nice breeze. And we beat the Yankees. Icing on the cake. Lubberly. I was setting 33 rows behind the Yankee dugout amongst a horde of obnoxious Yankees fans, so it was tremendously satisfying to watch Feliz, the closing pitcher, shut them down in the 9th inning.
So its 10:15pm on a Saturday and we exit the ballpark with, and I'm serious, 49,500 plus other people. Yep, that's a lot. But its fine. We go to our parking lot, find the vehicle and begin the long trek out of the parking lot.
Now the parking lot has ONE exit to a ONE WAY street with another street that is feeding into it and cars coming from all directions in the parking lot. As each car would approach the exit they would allow the car from the other direction to pull ahead of them. Taking turns so too speak. Very Polite. Slow. But polite.
So I make it to the street 15 minutes after getting in my vehicle and began to merge with the oncoming vehicles. Each person in the lane of traffic was letting the parking lot cars move in front, one car would allow another to get in front of them, then the next car would do the same, and so on.
Except...
When it came my turn to merge the next vehicle in line, a minivan, didn't share. I put my little blinker indicator on and they surged forward and closed the gap between themselves and the car in front of them (that had allowed the car in front of me to merge). I said nice. So I sat there until they moved forward at a snail's pace and the vehicle behind them let me merge in the lane. Whatever.
Then it caught my eye. That little piece of chrome attached to the back of the minivan that refused to allow me to merge. The shiny piece of chrome that we all know and love. Yes. The Christian Fish symbol.
I looked around at the other vehicles and no one else seemed to be advertising the fact that they were a christian. Nope, not a cross or fish or anything that I could see. Except all the other vehicles were allowing others the courtesy to merge in front of them. Kind of a do unto others concept. Kind of acting like Christians. Maybe kind of doing what Jesus would ask us to do.
I found it ironic. The one person who advertised themselves as a christian was the only one who wasn't acting like one.
Now I'm as bad as anyone else. Not expecting perfection by no means. But really, what are you trying to advertise with those little christian symbols on the back of your vehicle? Or on your lapel? Or your jewelry?
I think it makes us feel good to advertise our faith. Its much easier for sure. Anyone can glue a symbol on a car or put a piece of jewelry on or wear a catchy t-shirt with a clever christian saying on it.
I would suggest this. Advertise your faith by living it. If you don't intend to do that then please, for the love of God (pun intended) take that fish symbol off of your car. Take off that t-shirt and put the James Avery cross jewelry back in the box. Your giving us a bad name.
Everyone else was living out the philosophy of Christ except the one advertising it.
In the words of St. Francis of Assisi "preach the gospel at all times. use words only when necessary".
Amen. ~npp
Thursday, May 5, 2011
there is a season for everything
I have been a relationship guy my whole life. I never really knew that growing up and only in the past few years have I figured it out. If you have ever met me, even once, and we even slightly got along, then you know me for life. I have made contact with another soul on the planet. Relationships are everything to me. Never been much on status. Never really motivated by money (although in my adult years I am beginning to see the importance of having a litte bit of it). Nope, I have always been about relationships.
Sometimes to my detriment. Even unhealthy. Can't let go. Failed to consider others had hidden agendas. Its a tough lesson we all learn I think.
I have really enjoyed Facebook. Keeping up with others and finding friends from my past. Strange how we seem to get along better now than we did years ago. Matured some maybe. Lots more people talking about God these days.
Priorities. Seasons. Life.
I am now to the age where I can compare things to the way they used to be. I am amazed at what things cost now compared to when I was younger. My kids think nothing of spending whatever amount on a soft drink or combo meal because that is what it has always been to them. They don't remember 10 cent cokes or nickle candy bars or 1 cent double bubble chewing gum.
I am becoming my father. And his father before him. I am seeing things through different lenses. I no longer think I am the center of the universe. I am beginning to see and feel my mortality. I know its just a matter of time before I will no longer exist in this earthly realm. And I don't necessarily think that is something to get down in the dumps about.
I think it is a season I am in. As necessary to spring time is the winter, I think it is necessary we reach the season when we aren't in budding but in full bloom, soaking it all in. Maturing. Reaching the heights we were intended to reach. Spreading our branches so that others may find comfort in our shade. To have enough growth and survived enough weathering that we are stronger when the storms blow, but not so much that we cannot bend and sway abit and dance along with the winds. To develop lasting and meaningful relationships that will sustain us in the years to come.
Facebook is good at helping us keep in touch. It exposes us to other cultures, thoughts, politics, thoughts, humor, life events, and sometimes a little more than we would like to know. I think all of this helps us grow to be more tolerant or at least more accepting.
I cannot imagine life without internet. Facebook. Cell phones. Though I lived half of my life without it. Some of you can remember your first microwave. This season of life is really cool. I am so curious as to what the next will bring.
What an awesome ride. ~npp
Sometimes to my detriment. Even unhealthy. Can't let go. Failed to consider others had hidden agendas. Its a tough lesson we all learn I think.
I have really enjoyed Facebook. Keeping up with others and finding friends from my past. Strange how we seem to get along better now than we did years ago. Matured some maybe. Lots more people talking about God these days.
Priorities. Seasons. Life.
I am now to the age where I can compare things to the way they used to be. I am amazed at what things cost now compared to when I was younger. My kids think nothing of spending whatever amount on a soft drink or combo meal because that is what it has always been to them. They don't remember 10 cent cokes or nickle candy bars or 1 cent double bubble chewing gum.
I am becoming my father. And his father before him. I am seeing things through different lenses. I no longer think I am the center of the universe. I am beginning to see and feel my mortality. I know its just a matter of time before I will no longer exist in this earthly realm. And I don't necessarily think that is something to get down in the dumps about.
I think it is a season I am in. As necessary to spring time is the winter, I think it is necessary we reach the season when we aren't in budding but in full bloom, soaking it all in. Maturing. Reaching the heights we were intended to reach. Spreading our branches so that others may find comfort in our shade. To have enough growth and survived enough weathering that we are stronger when the storms blow, but not so much that we cannot bend and sway abit and dance along with the winds. To develop lasting and meaningful relationships that will sustain us in the years to come.
Facebook is good at helping us keep in touch. It exposes us to other cultures, thoughts, politics, thoughts, humor, life events, and sometimes a little more than we would like to know. I think all of this helps us grow to be more tolerant or at least more accepting.
I cannot imagine life without internet. Facebook. Cell phones. Though I lived half of my life without it. Some of you can remember your first microwave. This season of life is really cool. I am so curious as to what the next will bring.
What an awesome ride. ~npp
Thursday, March 17, 2011
HELL. Does it matter?
Following up on the Rob Bell issue of earlier this week where he brought forth to the public forum an issue many have been contemplating for years but haven't been brave enough (or stupid enough depending on how you look at it) to say aloud.
Hell may not be a literal place.
I know it goes against "tradition beliefs" and years of church tradition and teachings (insert Galileo here from my previous post) but there is the possibility that there is no literal place as Hell. As with many things in the bible, the words and stories and parables and understandings that were common to that time were used (again see previous post). We can point to references in the bible (extremely few in the Old Testament) and somewhat more in the New Testament that elude to the underworld or Hades or Hell or the Valley of Hinnom (Gehenna) or the grave. While some consider it a literal place of torment, others still feel that it is a separation from God. Death itself. Not judgemental damnation for being a bad person nor a reward system (heaven) for being a good person. Just a state of being after a worldly existence.
Even with all of that (and that is barely touching the surface) the question I ask is "Does it really matter?", this concept of hell? I know to some it really does. I had a southern baptist pastor tell me that he uses this "fear of hell" to convert people to Christ and finds it legit. Many are serious about "saving others" from this eternal torment and getting the name Jesus out there. A lot of twisted doctrine is based upon this line of thinking and "the Great Commission" as certain faith systems have defined it.
I think fortunately for me I grew up in a faith system that used another tactic. One that showed a merciful, loving and gracious God. These traits and stories of the bible that reflected that image of God was much more prevalent in my early years (and still today overall) than the Fire And Brimstone God that many others were introduced too. And that difference led to another approach to Christianity for me, or in another way of putting it, a different motivation.
For me, Hell does not matter one way or another. Whether literally a place of torment and excruciating pain for eternity or just death and separation from God.
I am not motivated by Fear. I am motivated by Love.
I seek relationship with the Father in my feeble ways and try to practice the teachings of His Son. I am compelled by a God who loves me and all of His children to be the person I am. I am not compelled to be a good Christian because I fear being thrown into a really hot place for eternity. Many see Salvation as an insurance policy against the fires of "hell". I see "salvation" as having the opportunity to live in relationship with God and one another here in the present world and the one too come.
Do does Hell exist? Who cares. ~npp
Hell may not be a literal place.
I know it goes against "tradition beliefs" and years of church tradition and teachings (insert Galileo here from my previous post) but there is the possibility that there is no literal place as Hell. As with many things in the bible, the words and stories and parables and understandings that were common to that time were used (again see previous post). We can point to references in the bible (extremely few in the Old Testament) and somewhat more in the New Testament that elude to the underworld or Hades or Hell or the Valley of Hinnom (Gehenna) or the grave. While some consider it a literal place of torment, others still feel that it is a separation from God. Death itself. Not judgemental damnation for being a bad person nor a reward system (heaven) for being a good person. Just a state of being after a worldly existence.
Even with all of that (and that is barely touching the surface) the question I ask is "Does it really matter?", this concept of hell? I know to some it really does. I had a southern baptist pastor tell me that he uses this "fear of hell" to convert people to Christ and finds it legit. Many are serious about "saving others" from this eternal torment and getting the name Jesus out there. A lot of twisted doctrine is based upon this line of thinking and "the Great Commission" as certain faith systems have defined it.
I think fortunately for me I grew up in a faith system that used another tactic. One that showed a merciful, loving and gracious God. These traits and stories of the bible that reflected that image of God was much more prevalent in my early years (and still today overall) than the Fire And Brimstone God that many others were introduced too. And that difference led to another approach to Christianity for me, or in another way of putting it, a different motivation.
For me, Hell does not matter one way or another. Whether literally a place of torment and excruciating pain for eternity or just death and separation from God.
I am not motivated by Fear. I am motivated by Love.
I seek relationship with the Father in my feeble ways and try to practice the teachings of His Son. I am compelled by a God who loves me and all of His children to be the person I am. I am not compelled to be a good Christian because I fear being thrown into a really hot place for eternity. Many see Salvation as an insurance policy against the fires of "hell". I see "salvation" as having the opportunity to live in relationship with God and one another here in the present world and the one too come.
Do does Hell exist? Who cares. ~npp
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