I don’t know why, but Christmas makes me think of Walgreens. I don’t buy Christmas presents at Walgreens, but if you want to observe Christmas clutter at its best (and worst), go into a Walgreens this time of year.
Even our homey manger scenes are cluttered with shepherds, sheep, three wise men, camels, an ox, and a donkey. It’s like people dropping in unexpectedly with their pets during Christmas, and it’s impolite to tell them to go away. Christmas and clutter go together, even in the manger.
But what’s up with the ox and the donkey? The deeper question is about our need to embellish what is a very sparse story about Jesus’ birth. We’ve cluttered the Christmas story with so many novelistic details that it looks like a fireplace mantel crammed with too many trinkets.
Read Matthew and Luke: no ox or donkey in the manger. How did they get there? Who thought up the barnyard scene? One of my favorite Christmas carols is “What Child is This?” That song says, “Why lies he in such mean estate, where ox and ass are feeding?” I like the picture. It offers a very sweet, childlike image. It brings out my sentimental side, yet it points to a potential clutter issue in the manger.
It might be kind of a shock to know that the ox and donkey were placed in the manger by a Gnostic Gospel from the 8th century called “The Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew.” This thing is long and dull and silly. But in Chapter 14 of Pseudo-Matthew we read, “The very animals, therefore, the ox and the ass, having Him in their midst, incessantly adored Him.” Okay, so the ox and donkey incessantly adore the baby Jesus. Why?
Well, it’s because Isaiah supposedly prophesied this when he wrote, “The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master’s crib; but Israel does not know, my people do not understand” (Isa 1:3). This is about the manger? Yes, according to the romantic version of the manger based on Pseudo-Matthew. I think we would agree that this is stretching scripture a tad!
Enough. Back to Christmas clutter. Walgreens is cluttered. Our houses are probably cluttered. We’ve even cluttered the manger with animals that weren’t really there in the first place. And perhaps we’ve cluttered the story of Jesus himself with non-essentials.
The key to a Christ-filled Christmas? Get rid of the clutter and “incessantly adore” Jesus. Cut through the novelties and embellishments and receive Christ himself by faith.
December 23, 2009
December 12, 2009
Advent: Expanding the Horizon of Hope
For Christians, Advent is the season of expectation and hope. We are all busy doing stuff to get ready for Christmas. We are hanging Christmas decorations, setting up the tree, baking cookies, buying presents, fighting traffic, and shoveling a lot of snow!
What are we hoping for this Advent? When it’s all over, when Christmas is done, what was it all about? What are we expecting this year? Perhaps we need to go deeper into Advent hope and expand our horizon of hope . . . and get in touch with the big picture.
The Bible is a history of expectation. Because God is in charge of history, human history is heading somewhere. History is more than fate, contingency, and disjointed events. The Bible is “salvation history.” It is history interpreted from the perspective of God’s overall plan. Jews and Christians are rooted in this history, rooted in the biblical view of history. It is the acute awareness of God within history that characterizes Judaism and Christianity. This history is a history of expectation: God’s future is always on the way!
The biblical vision gradually broadens from the particular to the universal, from Israel to “the nations,” and from the mundane and temporal to the cosmic and eternal. We move from the original creation to “the new creation.” We move from a literal Jewish messiah to a cosmic Christ, a universal redeemer. In the Bible we can find narrow-minded Jewish nationalism and narrow-minded Christian sectarianism. But the thrust of the Bible as a whole is toward the cosmic, the eternal, and the universal. God wants to save the world and all creation, not only Jews and Christians!
In other words, hope keeps expanding as the horizon of salvation keeps expanding. Expectation increases, since no historical moment can contain or exhaust the fullness of God. History itself is moving toward that fullness: the kingdom of God.
Advent hope is broad, expansive, and inclusive. It goes beyond “my family” or “my church” or “my kind of people.” Advent hope goes beyond partisanship and sectarianism; it goes beyond “group think” or “us versus them.”
When it’s all over and Christmas is done, will our hope be larger? Will our vision of salvation be broader? Will we have expanded our compassion beyond our own kind to those who differ most from us? The Savior that was born in Bethlehem has a lot more on his mind than my presents, my house, my church, my country, or my kind of people.
What are we hoping for this Advent? When it’s all over, when Christmas is done, what was it all about? What are we expecting this year? Perhaps we need to go deeper into Advent hope and expand our horizon of hope . . . and get in touch with the big picture.
The Bible is a history of expectation. Because God is in charge of history, human history is heading somewhere. History is more than fate, contingency, and disjointed events. The Bible is “salvation history.” It is history interpreted from the perspective of God’s overall plan. Jews and Christians are rooted in this history, rooted in the biblical view of history. It is the acute awareness of God within history that characterizes Judaism and Christianity. This history is a history of expectation: God’s future is always on the way!
The biblical vision gradually broadens from the particular to the universal, from Israel to “the nations,” and from the mundane and temporal to the cosmic and eternal. We move from the original creation to “the new creation.” We move from a literal Jewish messiah to a cosmic Christ, a universal redeemer. In the Bible we can find narrow-minded Jewish nationalism and narrow-minded Christian sectarianism. But the thrust of the Bible as a whole is toward the cosmic, the eternal, and the universal. God wants to save the world and all creation, not only Jews and Christians!
In other words, hope keeps expanding as the horizon of salvation keeps expanding. Expectation increases, since no historical moment can contain or exhaust the fullness of God. History itself is moving toward that fullness: the kingdom of God.
Advent hope is broad, expansive, and inclusive. It goes beyond “my family” or “my church” or “my kind of people.” Advent hope goes beyond partisanship and sectarianism; it goes beyond “group think” or “us versus them.”
When it’s all over and Christmas is done, will our hope be larger? Will our vision of salvation be broader? Will we have expanded our compassion beyond our own kind to those who differ most from us? The Savior that was born in Bethlehem has a lot more on his mind than my presents, my house, my church, my country, or my kind of people.
December 1, 2009
December: the month of anticipation
When I was a kid, the coming of Santa Claus blended vaguely in my mind with the coming of Christ. December was a mixture of Santa and the baby Jesus, just like the weather was a mix of snow and slop. I was filled with anticipation!
Think of the animals involved, too. Reindeer from the North Pole, Mary riding to Bethlehem on a donkey, shepherds arriving with their sheep . . . Baaaah! All creation seemed to be getting into the spirit. Even the smiling animals were crammed into my December expectations.
Our family Christmas tree stood near our little manger scene without any sense of cognitive dissonance whatsoever. It all seemed so logical and natural. I embraced two forms of hope: secular and sacred. Why not? It was all about me anyway! Santa was coming to please me. Jesus was born to save me. December was about me, me, me.
In high school I had a girlfriend. Then December became all about us. Buying presents for her; her buying presents for me. Us, us, us.
At that time I could not imagine 2009 and being 57 years old. I could not imagine the death of my parents, going to bed at 9pm, aching muscles in the morning, or being a hospice chaplain and serving people who would not live through December—who would not live to see another Christmas.
I could not imagine 10% unemployment in America, 36 million Americans without health insurance, and 25% of American children living on food stamps. Half the kids in New Orleans and St. Louis are on food stamps.
Santa and Jesus have a huge month ahead of them. While millions of people will shop at malls, millions more will be visiting food pantries and thrift shops, and sleeping on sofas at someone else’s house. Some kids will get lots of presents, like I did. Others will get only one or two, if any.
Yet good people will step up and collect food baskets and wrap presents for the less fortunate. Millions of caring people will go the extra mile for others. They will sacrifice time, energy, and money to do good for those who are struggling to make ends meet.
In secular terms, we are Santa’s helpers. In Christian terms, we are the hands and feet of Christ. In human terms, we are humans in solidarity with other humans who are suffering.
December is not about me anymore. That ended years ago. December is about bringing hope to the hopeless. December is the month of anticipation: anticipating the needs of others and doing something about it. This is what God did when he sent Jesus into our world. Like mercy, Jesus always runs toward the screaming.
--Brad
Think of the animals involved, too. Reindeer from the North Pole, Mary riding to Bethlehem on a donkey, shepherds arriving with their sheep . . . Baaaah! All creation seemed to be getting into the spirit. Even the smiling animals were crammed into my December expectations.
Our family Christmas tree stood near our little manger scene without any sense of cognitive dissonance whatsoever. It all seemed so logical and natural. I embraced two forms of hope: secular and sacred. Why not? It was all about me anyway! Santa was coming to please me. Jesus was born to save me. December was about me, me, me.
In high school I had a girlfriend. Then December became all about us. Buying presents for her; her buying presents for me. Us, us, us.
At that time I could not imagine 2009 and being 57 years old. I could not imagine the death of my parents, going to bed at 9pm, aching muscles in the morning, or being a hospice chaplain and serving people who would not live through December—who would not live to see another Christmas.
I could not imagine 10% unemployment in America, 36 million Americans without health insurance, and 25% of American children living on food stamps. Half the kids in New Orleans and St. Louis are on food stamps.
Santa and Jesus have a huge month ahead of them. While millions of people will shop at malls, millions more will be visiting food pantries and thrift shops, and sleeping on sofas at someone else’s house. Some kids will get lots of presents, like I did. Others will get only one or two, if any.
Yet good people will step up and collect food baskets and wrap presents for the less fortunate. Millions of caring people will go the extra mile for others. They will sacrifice time, energy, and money to do good for those who are struggling to make ends meet.
In secular terms, we are Santa’s helpers. In Christian terms, we are the hands and feet of Christ. In human terms, we are humans in solidarity with other humans who are suffering.
December is not about me anymore. That ended years ago. December is about bringing hope to the hopeless. December is the month of anticipation: anticipating the needs of others and doing something about it. This is what God did when he sent Jesus into our world. Like mercy, Jesus always runs toward the screaming.
--Brad
November 16, 2009
Will someone please explain cruises to me?
Because I’m over 55, I qualify for a modest discount on the humongous new cruise ship, “Oasis of the Seas.” It’s the world’s largest. This thing was just finished and weighs 220,000 tons. It carries 2,100 crew members and can accommodate 5,400 passengers.
Oasis of the Seas offers a casino, two rock climbing walls, a movie theater, and 1,900 cabins with verandas (there are almost 3,000 more cabins without verandas…for the poor people). Oh, and there’s a chapel, too. Huh?
Oasis of the Seas is too big for the majority of ports in the Caribbean. This means it sails around a lot and never lands anywhere. You can hop on this ship for seven days and stop at only one beach: Labadee, on the coast of Haiti. This beach is isolated and surrounded by barbed wire in order to keep out the Haitians.
You don’t want poverty-stricken Haitians destroying your vacation, do you?
Oh, there is one other stop. It’s a fake port created just for tourists. It’s called Casta Maya, just north of Belize. You will never have to worry about bumping into any indigenous people here, or foreigners, or riff-raff that beg for money or rob you. It’s sanitary, like Disneyland.
Just think. You can spend seven days on the world’s largest cruise ship, swim near barbed wire and shop in a fake tourist city. And never have to meet anyone different from yourself! You’ll never have to see how the Mexicans and Puerto Ricans and Haitians really live.
Oasis of the Seas is truly an oasis!
Now, will someone please explain cruises to me? Am I missing something?
--Brad
Oasis of the Seas offers a casino, two rock climbing walls, a movie theater, and 1,900 cabins with verandas (there are almost 3,000 more cabins without verandas…for the poor people). Oh, and there’s a chapel, too. Huh?
Oasis of the Seas is too big for the majority of ports in the Caribbean. This means it sails around a lot and never lands anywhere. You can hop on this ship for seven days and stop at only one beach: Labadee, on the coast of Haiti. This beach is isolated and surrounded by barbed wire in order to keep out the Haitians.
You don’t want poverty-stricken Haitians destroying your vacation, do you?
Oh, there is one other stop. It’s a fake port created just for tourists. It’s called Casta Maya, just north of Belize. You will never have to worry about bumping into any indigenous people here, or foreigners, or riff-raff that beg for money or rob you. It’s sanitary, like Disneyland.
Just think. You can spend seven days on the world’s largest cruise ship, swim near barbed wire and shop in a fake tourist city. And never have to meet anyone different from yourself! You’ll never have to see how the Mexicans and Puerto Ricans and Haitians really live.
Oasis of the Seas is truly an oasis!
Now, will someone please explain cruises to me? Am I missing something?
--Brad
November 11, 2009
Throw the Bums Out!
Jesus was not fond of money-grubbing persons. The kind and gentle Jesus carrying that little lamb in his arms? Well, we need to counter that kindergarten picture with the fed up Jesus kicking the money-grubbers out of the temple.
It always amazes me to observe so many conservative Christians moaning and groaning about abortion and gay marriage, and yet saying nothing about greed and self-centered money-making. These Christians protest healthcare reform and yet roll over and allow private health insurance companies to rip them off at will.
They hold “tea parties” to protest taxes when they should be marching on the headquarters of Blue Cross/Blue Shield and Humana. It seems that any talk about setting up a system to serve “the common good” is labeled “socialism.”
I’m pretty sure that Jesus was not a socialist, as we define that term today. But I’m convinced he wasn’t a capitalist. And I’m also convinced that if Jesus was walking the earth in person today, he would be throwing people out of the temple.
First, Jesus would walk into congress and toss out all the elected officials who take bribes. He would throw out the politicians who are in bed with the lobbyists.
Next, Jesus would go to Wall Street and blow it up. He’d take a sledge hammer and whack all their cute little computer screens that they stare at all day while every day Americans are struggling to make ends meet.
Then Jesus would visit the big banks, like Goldman Sachs, and toss out all the CEOs. Everyone else in the place would work for minimum wage and would have to cancel their plans for their new swimming pool and BMW.
Then Jesus would go to the churches that are making millions of dollars off religion. You know, these are the “mega-megas” with rich preachers and TV shows and a DVD industry. These are the churches that are so tied into the capitalist mentality that making money off Jesus seems to be the American thing to do.
Throw the bums out! --Brad
It always amazes me to observe so many conservative Christians moaning and groaning about abortion and gay marriage, and yet saying nothing about greed and self-centered money-making. These Christians protest healthcare reform and yet roll over and allow private health insurance companies to rip them off at will.
They hold “tea parties” to protest taxes when they should be marching on the headquarters of Blue Cross/Blue Shield and Humana. It seems that any talk about setting up a system to serve “the common good” is labeled “socialism.”
I’m pretty sure that Jesus was not a socialist, as we define that term today. But I’m convinced he wasn’t a capitalist. And I’m also convinced that if Jesus was walking the earth in person today, he would be throwing people out of the temple.
First, Jesus would walk into congress and toss out all the elected officials who take bribes. He would throw out the politicians who are in bed with the lobbyists.
Next, Jesus would go to Wall Street and blow it up. He’d take a sledge hammer and whack all their cute little computer screens that they stare at all day while every day Americans are struggling to make ends meet.
Then Jesus would visit the big banks, like Goldman Sachs, and toss out all the CEOs. Everyone else in the place would work for minimum wage and would have to cancel their plans for their new swimming pool and BMW.
Then Jesus would go to the churches that are making millions of dollars off religion. You know, these are the “mega-megas” with rich preachers and TV shows and a DVD industry. These are the churches that are so tied into the capitalist mentality that making money off Jesus seems to be the American thing to do.
Throw the bums out! --Brad
November 7, 2009
Adam and Eve. No Joke.
A lot of jokes have circulated about Adam and Eve. For example, what did God say after creating Adam? Answer: “I think I can do better than that.” Here’s another one: Why did God create Adam first? Answer: Because he didn’t want any advice. We get a chuckle from these jokes.
Adam and Eve are tailor-made for late-night comedy and bad jokes from the pulpit. But there are some things about the Adam and Eve story that really hit home. There is something ecumenical about Adam and Eve. You don’t have to be Jewish or Christian to appreciate the story. It’s universal and applies to everybody.
Here is my spin on it.
Adam and Eve represent humanity. They are all of us as we try to understand ourselves, our relation to nature, and our relationship to God. In their story we see potential glory become actual tragedy. This is a shift from “dreaming innocence” to moral awareness and ambiguity. Isn’t that us?
We move from childlike innocence to harsh realities. Some of us do this very quickly. We move from simple, pat answers to tough decision-making. We leave the protection of Eden and are thrown into a world of suffering and death. The “good guys” don’t always win, and people don’t always live happily ever after (except in romantic comedies).
We make mistakes. We learn things the hard way. The main theme of our life seems to be the loss of innocence and the desire to return to Eden. There is in the human heart a desire to go home again. We want to return to something we’ve lost. This makes us restless and sometimes sad.
I often see this in the elderly as they come to terms with their limitations. They want to go home. They’ve had enough of “muscular” living.
But when it comes right down to it, most of us don’t want “dreaming innocence” for very long! There is no way to develop character without freedom and risk. If sin is the misuse and abuse of freedom, taking responsibility means the right use of freedom. We aren’t robots. Despite potential glory, it is really actual tragedy that makes us human. This is what we see in Adam and Eve; we see them “growing up” and becoming human.
But we also see God’s grace toward all who are guilty, alienated, and ashamed. It’s called salvation. --Brad
Adam and Eve are tailor-made for late-night comedy and bad jokes from the pulpit. But there are some things about the Adam and Eve story that really hit home. There is something ecumenical about Adam and Eve. You don’t have to be Jewish or Christian to appreciate the story. It’s universal and applies to everybody.
Here is my spin on it.
Adam and Eve represent humanity. They are all of us as we try to understand ourselves, our relation to nature, and our relationship to God. In their story we see potential glory become actual tragedy. This is a shift from “dreaming innocence” to moral awareness and ambiguity. Isn’t that us?
We move from childlike innocence to harsh realities. Some of us do this very quickly. We move from simple, pat answers to tough decision-making. We leave the protection of Eden and are thrown into a world of suffering and death. The “good guys” don’t always win, and people don’t always live happily ever after (except in romantic comedies).
We make mistakes. We learn things the hard way. The main theme of our life seems to be the loss of innocence and the desire to return to Eden. There is in the human heart a desire to go home again. We want to return to something we’ve lost. This makes us restless and sometimes sad.
I often see this in the elderly as they come to terms with their limitations. They want to go home. They’ve had enough of “muscular” living.
But when it comes right down to it, most of us don’t want “dreaming innocence” for very long! There is no way to develop character without freedom and risk. If sin is the misuse and abuse of freedom, taking responsibility means the right use of freedom. We aren’t robots. Despite potential glory, it is really actual tragedy that makes us human. This is what we see in Adam and Eve; we see them “growing up” and becoming human.
But we also see God’s grace toward all who are guilty, alienated, and ashamed. It’s called salvation. --Brad
November 3, 2009
Too much in touch?
Okay, let me get this straight: Americans are sending 4.1 billion text messages a day. This figure is from CNN (10/30/09). It doesn’t include twittering, instant messaging, or phone calls. Prayers are not included, either. We’re at the point when even a phone call takes too much time. I picture the future as a time with no face-to-face relationships; only screens and tiny buttons to push.
I’m teaching a Modern History course right now, and we were discussing our technological age. Students mentioned the Internet and the Web, cell phones and texting, twittering and instant messaging, and the quick access we have to information 24-hours a day. Then there’s Facebook and MySpace, etc.
One woman said, “I get all nervous when my boyfriend doesn’t text me back right away. I feel rejected or like maybe he’s avoiding me.” Apparently her boyfriend is required to stay in touch every nanosecond.
No one’s life is that interesting every second. This applies to great love affairs, too!
Have we gone too far with this connectedness thing? Is it possible to be too much in touch? I call this “the ambiguity of technology.” This means saying yes and no to technology at the same time.
I don’t know where I would be without my cell phone, and yes, sometimes I use it while driving. Bad boy! I like my flat screen HD-TV. I like grading papers electronically rather than using hard copies.
But while technology is wonderful, technology is not so wonderful. Yes and no. Nothing is wonderful when it begins taking charge of our whole lives. Nothing is wonderful when we don’t have time for face-to-face relationships with family and friends. Nothing is wonderful when we don’t have an hour for exercise or quiet time or a moment to just sit.
Nothing is wonderful when ring tones assault us every few moments. I have a colleague at work who has a different ring tone for every person in her life. Every time her cell phone “rings” I want to smash it. She thinks it’s cute.
Many of us, if we are honest, are looking for a place to hide. We’re tired of being “too much in touch.” So the next time you start to send a text message, ask yourself, “Is this really necessary?” Maybe it is, but maybe sending thirty text messages isn’t! --Brad
I’m teaching a Modern History course right now, and we were discussing our technological age. Students mentioned the Internet and the Web, cell phones and texting, twittering and instant messaging, and the quick access we have to information 24-hours a day. Then there’s Facebook and MySpace, etc.
One woman said, “I get all nervous when my boyfriend doesn’t text me back right away. I feel rejected or like maybe he’s avoiding me.” Apparently her boyfriend is required to stay in touch every nanosecond.
No one’s life is that interesting every second. This applies to great love affairs, too!
Have we gone too far with this connectedness thing? Is it possible to be too much in touch? I call this “the ambiguity of technology.” This means saying yes and no to technology at the same time.
I don’t know where I would be without my cell phone, and yes, sometimes I use it while driving. Bad boy! I like my flat screen HD-TV. I like grading papers electronically rather than using hard copies.
But while technology is wonderful, technology is not so wonderful. Yes and no. Nothing is wonderful when it begins taking charge of our whole lives. Nothing is wonderful when we don’t have time for face-to-face relationships with family and friends. Nothing is wonderful when we don’t have an hour for exercise or quiet time or a moment to just sit.
Nothing is wonderful when ring tones assault us every few moments. I have a colleague at work who has a different ring tone for every person in her life. Every time her cell phone “rings” I want to smash it. She thinks it’s cute.
Many of us, if we are honest, are looking for a place to hide. We’re tired of being “too much in touch.” So the next time you start to send a text message, ask yourself, “Is this really necessary?” Maybe it is, but maybe sending thirty text messages isn’t! --Brad
October 26, 2009
The Kingdom of God and the Sick
The kingdom of God is what happens between us and the sick. This insight came to me from a comment made by Jurgen Moltmann in one of his books. Moltmann was talking about Jesus healing the sick. The healing power of Jesus was a sign of the presence of the kingdom of God. When the kingdom arrives, illness flees. When the power of God’s Spirit touches the sick, they are healed.
Where do we find the kingdom of God today? The kingdom of God is what happens between us and the sick.
I’ve been in healthcare ministry a number of years, off and on. There are times when I want to avoid the sick. I want to do something else. Why? Is it selfishness on my part? Perhaps, but most of the time it is fatigue. Ministry to the sick takes a lot of energy, a lot of self-giving. It can be draining. Jesus had moments of fatigue, too. He took brief “sabbaticals” and went off by himself to pray and recharge his batteries.
And yet we can’t overlook this point: in the expectations and suffering of the sick we encounter the kingdom of God. And we learn. Visiting the sick is not only about “meeting their needs.” It is about meeting Christ in the sick. It is about receiving the hospitality of the sick. It’s about seeing ourselves in the sick. And it is about learning faith from the sick, even from those who have little faith.
I can honestly say that my understanding of the kingdom of God has been deepened by the sick. I’ve been pushed, challenged, humbled, and made more grateful.
None of this would be the case were it not for the Holy Spirit working in and through the sick to reach me. Could it be that God has asked me to minister to the sick in order to save my own soul? Probably. So we press on . . . and we find the kingdom of God happening here and now in every Spirit-filled encounter with the sick. --Brad
Where do we find the kingdom of God today? The kingdom of God is what happens between us and the sick.
I’ve been in healthcare ministry a number of years, off and on. There are times when I want to avoid the sick. I want to do something else. Why? Is it selfishness on my part? Perhaps, but most of the time it is fatigue. Ministry to the sick takes a lot of energy, a lot of self-giving. It can be draining. Jesus had moments of fatigue, too. He took brief “sabbaticals” and went off by himself to pray and recharge his batteries.
And yet we can’t overlook this point: in the expectations and suffering of the sick we encounter the kingdom of God. And we learn. Visiting the sick is not only about “meeting their needs.” It is about meeting Christ in the sick. It is about receiving the hospitality of the sick. It’s about seeing ourselves in the sick. And it is about learning faith from the sick, even from those who have little faith.
I can honestly say that my understanding of the kingdom of God has been deepened by the sick. I’ve been pushed, challenged, humbled, and made more grateful.
None of this would be the case were it not for the Holy Spirit working in and through the sick to reach me. Could it be that God has asked me to minister to the sick in order to save my own soul? Probably. So we press on . . . and we find the kingdom of God happening here and now in every Spirit-filled encounter with the sick. --Brad
October 24, 2009
Boo! A story about salvation.
One day a colleague at work asked me, “Do you believe in hell?” We were alone at the office. It was the end of the day and we were catching up on paperwork. Her question hit me by surprise. I realized that God had just dumped me into a very important moment in this person’s life.
I said, “No, I don’t believe in a literal hell. I think hell is a metaphor for separation from God, for missing our destiny.”
She answered, “I don’t believe in hell either.”
This woman had just enough of old traditional Roman Catholic theology to be scared and guilty. She was carrying a lot of baggage about sin, hell, and eternal damnation. She was all tied up in knots, spiritually and psychologically. In some ways she was like a kid who has been told, “There’s a ghost in your bedroom closet! Don’t go in there!”
I call this “Boo!” theology. God sneaks up on us and shouts, “Boo! You’re going to hell!” Would you do this to your friend? Then why do we think God does this? Fear-based religion is running rampant through the minds and hearts of millions of people.
Anyway, this woman said, “I sure hope I go to heaven.”
I asked, “Do you want to go to heaven?”
She almost shouted, “Yes!”
“Then you will,” I replied.
She looked at me like I had just hit her in the head with a piece of firewood. Stunned. Apparently no one had ever told her that she was secure in God and needn’t worry.
We carry our own demons with us in our heads. We create our own hells. Often those demons have been placed in our psyche by distorted forms of religion, by “Boo!” theology.
I believe that, in the end, we get what we desire with all our heart. God gives us what we desire with all our heart. To desire “heaven” is a metaphor for desiring salvation, peace, joy, life, and ultimate freedom. As we mature, we might even begin desiring God himself. And if we really move forward in our spiritual growth, we will even begin loving God.
Once God’s love hits us between the eyes, we will never doubt again. We can cease the childish and fear-based obsession with personal salvation and get busy sharing the “good news.”
It seems all day long all I do is go around telling people they’re saved. The “Boo!” theology flying around out there is incredible…too many scared people. There’s lots of work to be done. --Brad
I said, “No, I don’t believe in a literal hell. I think hell is a metaphor for separation from God, for missing our destiny.”
She answered, “I don’t believe in hell either.”
This woman had just enough of old traditional Roman Catholic theology to be scared and guilty. She was carrying a lot of baggage about sin, hell, and eternal damnation. She was all tied up in knots, spiritually and psychologically. In some ways she was like a kid who has been told, “There’s a ghost in your bedroom closet! Don’t go in there!”
I call this “Boo!” theology. God sneaks up on us and shouts, “Boo! You’re going to hell!” Would you do this to your friend? Then why do we think God does this? Fear-based religion is running rampant through the minds and hearts of millions of people.
Anyway, this woman said, “I sure hope I go to heaven.”
I asked, “Do you want to go to heaven?”
She almost shouted, “Yes!”
“Then you will,” I replied.
She looked at me like I had just hit her in the head with a piece of firewood. Stunned. Apparently no one had ever told her that she was secure in God and needn’t worry.
We carry our own demons with us in our heads. We create our own hells. Often those demons have been placed in our psyche by distorted forms of religion, by “Boo!” theology.
I believe that, in the end, we get what we desire with all our heart. God gives us what we desire with all our heart. To desire “heaven” is a metaphor for desiring salvation, peace, joy, life, and ultimate freedom. As we mature, we might even begin desiring God himself. And if we really move forward in our spiritual growth, we will even begin loving God.
Once God’s love hits us between the eyes, we will never doubt again. We can cease the childish and fear-based obsession with personal salvation and get busy sharing the “good news.”
It seems all day long all I do is go around telling people they’re saved. The “Boo!” theology flying around out there is incredible…too many scared people. There’s lots of work to be done. --Brad
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