Part of a series for our CWOTI study group, this session we are reading “Inspired” by Rachel Held Evans.

Resistance stories.

As I write this, the US senate is holding hearing regarding Supreme Court Justice nominee Brett Kavanaugh.

And boy oh boy is it one big freaking sh*t show.

Setting aside, for a moment, the claims of those who say Kavanaugh sexually assaulted them in the past (a claim that, in my opinion, should not be ignored) his record as a judge (who never presided over a court case) makes many of us nervous that he’s more a puppet for the far right than a legitimately good choice for the bench. 

For many of us, he’s just another head of the beast that we need to resist.

Israel was no stranger to fighting its own beasts. Egypt, Assyrians, Babylon, Rome. Their tales of resistance make up much of the Old Testament. From fleeing slavery to refusing to kneel before the effigy of the Babylonian king, Israel resisted. And the leaders of their resistance? 


Rather than the fortune tellers that movies and kids’ stories give us, prophets were really, above all, truth-tellers. They spoke the truth even it (and especially if) it meant spitting in the face of earthly leaders.

What we need now are prophets.

Or so seems RHE’s message in the first part of this chapter. And I can’t agree more. 

Part 2 of this chapter is a retelling of the story of Ester, focusing on the fragile masculinity of it’s male leads. A reminder that the powers that be are often nothing more than  “a frightened little kitten, insecure about its hair.”

Part 3 gives us an intro as the book moves into its discussions of the New Testament.

What are we to make then, of chapter 5.

I’ve mentioned before that RHE’s writing in this book seems to be all over the place. It seems she’s often moving from applying the Bible to our lives to trying to shoe-horn our lives into the Biblical narrative. 

And she does’t seem to so much end chapters on a conclusion so much as just kind of let them trail off. I think she misses a lot of opportunities to give us some closure in favor or rushing to the next chapter.

Like this one. There is much more she could have given us about resistance and resisting. Especially in light of our current event. Some sense of hope or action to take, but instead we get “well, they were resistors too” – which to me isn’t much hope given the history of the Jewish people into the 20th century as the ones being crushed even if they were resisting.

I, for one, would much rather like some hope from her writings.

Maybe chapter 6 has more of what I’m hoping for.

Why? Arg. (A rant and ramble) – Love Anyway Blog

Almost 21 months of this. Fast approaching 2 years. All this time with all this shit.


Trolls. So many f’ing trolls, on the internet and in real life and just everywhere. Like in inauguration day someone gave out licenses to be an assbutt to everyone all the time.

I must have missed the memo.

Don’t get me wrong. Trolls are the price we pay for a free and open Internet and the right of free speech. If you are going to post stuff online at some point you’re going to have to deal with someone that just wants to play with your head like a kitten with a ball of yarn. It is what it is.

But since the 2016 election it’s more than just playing around. There’s some seriously messed up thinking out there being presented as viable solutions to real life problems.

Racist, bigoted, misogynistic, dangerous, messed up, dude bro, gun-licking, goose-stepping thinking.

How did we get here?

It didn’t just happen. People don’t just become that way because someone was or was not elected. There is a subculture that has been festering, spreading, oozing like fungus and the election was just an excuse for it to come into the light.

And ‘they’ accuse ‘us’ of doing the same thing, claiming political correctness is a mental illness (when in reality it’s just respecting people for what they are), claiming ‘we’ want full-blown Marxism and free marijuana for 10-year-olds and other ridiculous claims.

And ‘they’ blame Obama for dividing us, when in  fact we’ve always been divided, only now it’s louder. Talking heads on TV, podcasts, Facebook pages, Twitter hashtags…

So very loud.

And the red ball caps and the white polo shirts and khaki pants and the chanting “blood and soil” and “lock her up” while carrying tiki torches…

And they say we’re “snowflakes” and “triggered” (mocking the very serious condition of being ‘triggered’ because of an experience that has given you PTSD or anxiety.)

And they say we’re going back to a time when things were ‘great’. But what they really mean is ‘great for rich white men’. Most of them not realizing that if/when we do reach that time again that they, too, will be left behind and subjugated by those with deep pockets full of large bills that they hand out to politicians for legislation that keeps those poorer subjugated.

All the while talking about civility while not showing any. 

I. Have had. Enough.

E. Nough.

I’m past political correctness, I no longer care about civility, I will not sit idly while the world my children will inherit burns and humanity is choked to death on our own fumes of division and hatred and out of control capitalism. 

Stop telling me “don’t stoop to their level” or to “love them into change”. They don’t care about love. Or logic. When did being a Nazi become an acceptable way to be an American? And when did punching them become taboo? Jesus called out the oppressors, he chased them from the temple with a whip. How can we do less because “kum by ya, by and by”? Are we to respect the oppressive powers or are we to help the least of these?

Quit hiding behind your stained glass and some misguided idea that the Bible means we let hatred and bigotry exist. We should be leading the way in overturning the institutions that push us all into the ground. 

Ok, rant over. Carry on.


Part of a series for our CWOTI study group, this session we are reading “Inspired” by Rachel Held Evans.

The Bible contains a lot of great wisdom. As the author puts it, regarding the Bible:

“…many of its institutions taught me to expect something from the Bible that the Bible was never intended to deliver—namely, an internally consistent and self-evident worldview that provides clear, universal answers to all of life’s questions, from whether climate change is real, to why God allows suffering in the world, to how to keep a marriage together and raise obedient kids.” (pp. 99-100).  Kindle Edition.

But it just isn’t that plain, and sometimes even appears to be contradictory.

“The truth is, the Bible isn’t an answer book. It’s not even a book, really. Rather, it’s a diverse library of ancient texts, spanning multiple centuries, genres, and cultures, authored by a host of different authors coming from a variety of different perspectives.” (p. 102). Kindle Edition.

Rachel begins with a retelling of Job as a screenplay and continues into the Psalms to give us a perspective on scripture that is beyond the cherry-picked verses we see on coffee cups and desk calendars and into the sometimes contradictory books of wisdom and laments and poetry.

I really can’t add much to what she says in this chapter because I believe what she wrote 100%. The Bible does not have all the answers. It wasn’t meant to. The wisdom it offers doesn’t apply in all situations and sometimes doesn’t even really apply to the situation it is presented in in the text itself.

I love that she uses Job as an example. We always hear ‘reap what you sow’ and ‘whatever you put out into the universe returns’ and so on. Karma. Do good and good things happen. 

But that’s not reality. Job did good things and terrible things happened. 

Many scholars, the ones who would know such things, who have studied Job and it’s language and setting, consider it to be the oldest surviving piece of writing in the history of man. Older than the stories of Genesis, ages before Abraham, older than the pyramids and the code of Hammurabi.

It could, quite possibly be the oldest wisdom in the world.

Now I don’t know if that’s true or not, I’ve never really investigated that claim. But the age of the wisdom it provides does not change what it says. 

Bad things sometimes happen to good people. And for no real reason.

If there is one ageless, timeless truth that has persisted through the ages, it is that. You can be the best person the universe has ever known and sometimes your house can still burn down and you can still be injured or killed in a car accident.

Shit happens. And for no real reason.

But in the end, it offers another bit. God still cares even though shit happens.

And that too is an ageless, timeless truth.

So let’s not forget the lamentations and the raised fist in angry prayer we see in scripture right along with the inspirational verses. God is big enough to handle our frustration. Especially our frustration as we wrestle with scripture and can’t find answers to the contradictions therein.


Part of a series for our CWOTI study group, this session we are reading “Inspired” by Rachel Held Evans.

War Stories. War. Pain. Death. Blood. Violence.


The Israelites, with God’s promise of victory, with his command to take the land and slay all living things, women, children, cattle, and donkeys, went into the Promised Land and took it.

Later, in Judges, there is more violence. Young virgin girls are divided up like gold coins. Others are gang raped and dismembered.

Seriously. It’s all in there. And with God’s blessing. Or at least with His silence.

What. The. F*ck.

“If the Bible teaches that God is love, and love can look like genocide and violence and rape, then love can look like… anything. It’s as much an invitation to moral relativism as you’ll find anywhere.”

Ouch. Yeah. If love can look like anything, then people will make it anything. The God that can love your entire civilization to death, then he can love you personally with cancer and an abusive relationship and a government that wants to control your body parts.

Dude, that’s seriously messed up.

The author in this chapter is all over the place. She doesn’t seem to be able to find a path. In fact towards the end of the chapter she straight up admits that she still hasn’t figured out that to do with the “Texts of Terror” as she calls them and at the end she says that we can only see them through Jesus and leave it at that.

And while I get that, I don’t quite agree. She makes a couple of points that I feel are important:

“Israel told its war stories with flourish, using the language and literary conventions that best advanced the agendas of storytellers.”

“In other words, the authors of Scripture, like the authors of any other work … wrote with agendas.”

While inspired by God, in the end the Bible is a construction of man. And the stories told of the Israelites were written by the winners, and maybe generations after said events happened.

But again, why does God allow these stories to be preserved? Are they to be an example as some have claimed in their actions against indigenous populations in the 17th century and following? Or are they warnings? Preserved as examples of a stiff-necked people of the type of things we are NOT to do, claiming we have God’s blessing when we’re actually twisting what God said to match our own agendas?

I don’t know. These are painful things to read about and they certainly don’t match the God we see through Christ in the Gospels that says to love your enemies and lay your life down for your friends.

Chapter 3 has left me with more uncomfortable feelings than answers. If someone who has dug deeper into the meanings of these stories than I have doesn’t have a satisfactory answer for their existence, then what am I to make of them?

And what am I to do with those, in our modern age, who use the agenda of the Bible (in their own opinions) as a weapon against women, against the LGBTQIA+ community, against science and common sense?

Can’t get my brain around it. Other than to see everything through Christ and answer with patience and love.

Christianity is NOT “personal relationship” with Jesus

Maybe you’ve heard it in your own church. Maybe in your grade-school Sunday school class. I know I certainly heard the phrase (and believed it) when I attended church camp for the first time in  7th grade and ‘got saved’.

And you might even see it on well-meaning facebook pages today or in a tweet.

“Christianity isn’t a religion, it’s a personal relationship with Jesus Christ”

But I’ve got news for you.

The Bible doesn’t teach that. Nowhere in scripture, unless someone is really trying to make certain verses mean something they don’t, does it say we, as believers, are to have a ‘personal relationship’ with Christ.


How did such a theology come to pass, then?

It’s generally impossible to trace the origin of the idea, some will say it began in the 60s and 70s with the “Jesus People” movement. Others might recall hearing it earlier from the pulpits of Southern Baptist churches in the post-WWII era when men were coming home, trying to make sense of the horrors of war and trying to find peace.

However it started, one of the go-to verses used to ‘prove it’ is the story of the Prodigal Son.  God, the father, watching for his son, embracing him when he returns home.

It’s all so warm and fuzzy, isn’t it? God loving each of us so much that He wants to be our personal Father as if no one else mattered, not even the son that stayed home the whole time.

But that is not the lesson of the Prodigal Son.

As with any verse or story in the Bible, context is everything. The Prodigal Son story is part of a lesson containing several parables. All of them about lost things. A lost sheep. A lost coin. A lost son.

What started this lesson was some Pharisees and ‘teachers of the law’ muttering about Jesus welcoming ‘sinners’ and eating with them. The lesson is about going out and finding those who need love and forgiveness the most. Not about a personal God.


So what DOES the Bible teach if not a ‘personal relationship’?

The opposite, actually. Christianity is supposed to be a communal experience. There can be no such thing as a ‘lone ranger’ Christian.

*gasp* “Blasphemy!”

No, it’s not.

I know some of you are thinking “what about those who have to remain in hiding? what about those alone in prison? They’re alone and they are still Christians.” Ok, sure, but how did they become Christian in the first place. Someone somewhere taught or gave them what they needed to make them part of the Body of Christ.

That is the lesson of the Bible. That we are together. The Body of Christ. Brothers and Sisters. Fellowship of believers. Before Saul/Paul’s conversion, he was searching for “those who belong to The Way”.

When Jesus taught us to pray he said “OUR Father…” not “My Father…”

More than anything, belonging to Christ means belonging TOGETHER. Our relationship is to be with the rest of the Body and worship God. Not a relationship with God and worship the church.

Isn’t it time we got back to real relationships (in whatever form those take, be they in a physical location like a church building or a digital location like a facebook group) rather than a personal relationship with our idea of God?

Recommended reading: “My Imaginary Jesus” by Matt Mikalatos

Why it’s sinful *not* to be affirming of LGBTQ+ persons

Author’s note: I am a heterosexual cis male, married for 30 years to my amazing wife. I cannot begin to comprehend the issues experienced by my brothers, sisters, and non-binary family. I am trying, but even if I can intellectually grasp the things going on I will never fully understand.
This piece is not intended to imply that I ‘get it’. Rather it is directed at the church (in general, not all churches) to encourage Christians to really, honestly consider their stance on the LGBT+ community members and why they think/feel the way they do. Most of what is presented here is opinion (mine) but I hope to reach people. Love is love. Let love be love. God is love. God loves you in spite of what anyone else says.

There’s a phrase used often in Christian churches and by Christians, meant as a positive, but is actually a negative. I hate it. Hate. It.

“Love the sinner, hate the sin”.

The implication of this quote, in my mind, is that while a person has to be loved, there is something about them that is hate-able. Something that has to be changed. Forced out. Destroyed.

I hate the phrase. I don’t use it (anymore). It’s not something Jesus ever said. It’s not something He ever implied.

What makes this phrase particularly despicable is that it is almost always used in only one context. You don’t hear it used to talk about alcoholics or divorced couples or other ‘sins’, but only and specifically about homosexuality.

Love the LGBT+ person, hate the LGBT+ out of them.

Force them to change until they aren’t LGBT+ anymore. By any means necessary (in some churches).

And I’m here to tell you, as a Christian, as one who has spent a great deal of time studying the Bible, who has taken some seminary classes, who has studied some of the Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic as exists in the manuscripts we have that have been translated into our modern English Bible, that that way of thinking is so seriously so shockingly wrong that not only is it bad, it’s sinful.

It is literally a sin not to be accepting and AFFIRMING of everyone, especially LGBT+ people.

Let me say that again.

It is a sin NOT to be affirming of LGBT+ people.

Not just accepting, affirming.


A sin the church immediately needs to stop.


What does that mean, affirming?

In this context, let’s define how it’s different from just accepting. Many churches and churchgoers claim to be accepting. But going back to that despicable phrase accepting means only that you are doing the first part,  the “love the sinner” part. I accept you, the person. But I don’t welcome all of you. There’s a part of you that is ‘bad’.

That is the way most churches define accepting. We’ll let you in, but we’re still going to try to change you.

Affirming, on the other hand, is very different. Affirmation, in this context, is to value, uphold, defend. It’s beyond accepting to the point of “I defend everything you are”.

To affirm LGBT+ people we need to uphold and defend everything they are.

But what about that verse in Leviticus? What about that verse in Romans? What about…. what about…. what about….?

I am not going to rehash the entire “Biblical” argument ‘against’ homosexuality. Much has been written on the topic, including by me. If you don’t understand how the traditional interpretation of the Bible against homosexuality is wrong (not the Bible, the INTERPRETATION of those verses in the Bible) then I strongly encourage you to do some homework. For starters, I recommend this blog post by my friend Mark Sandlin.


That being said, here’s my bigger point, my biggest point:

You cannot love someone into changing what they are.

The church cannot love people into changing their core being.

People cannot be loved into changing the way they were made.


Not long ago, my church had a good ministry called “Celebrate Recovery”.

(There are issues with the way CR is executed at many churches, and the source materials are very anti-LGBT+, so I won’t recommend it for all churches, rather this is just an anecdote of my own experiences as it relates to this blog post.)

CR is heavily based on the concept behind Alcoholics Anonymous and other recovery group programs, that together people can change things we struggle with. We were a very small church so we had a very small group. Within the group, we had several ‘issues’ that we were all trying to help each other with. Substances, yes, but other addictions and behaviors. I won’t ‘out’ anyone, and I’m not quite comfortable sharing the reasons I was in the group but I’ll make my point (while respecting the anonymity of others).

“The guys” and I spoke a lot about a lot of things in our group. But above all, we acknowledged that for better or worse there were ‘things’ that were ‘built in’ to us. That we were ‘wired’ a certain way. Some of those things we needed help with because, ultimately, medically, they were self-destructive, literally. Others we needed to learn to live with. And others we actually needed to embrace because if we’re built that way, and God doesn’t make mistakes, then we should not only learn to live with it, we should take joy in who we are.

If you’re at all familiar with AA, then you’ve probably heard the Serenity Prayer. In many places, they use the ‘abridged’ version, but in CR we used the entire prayer:

God, grant me the Serenity
To accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And Wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as the pathway to peace.
Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it.
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His will.
That I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with Him forever in the next.

Serenity, acceptance, courage, living, enjoying, trusting, and ultimately, happiness. It goes beyond just saying “oh well, this is how it is”, it’s finding peace and happiness in the things that are part of what we are.

And that is how the church should be! In the bigger, broader, greater sense we need to take JOY in our differences. Just as we wouldn’t kick out someone who was struggling with addiction to substances that damage their body, we shouldn’t kick out people who identify their gender or sexuality differently than how we view as ‘traditional’ gender and sexuality.

I am in no way comparing gender identity and sexuality to alcoholism. The latter is a disease that can (and in thousands of cases does), if ‘given in’ to, kill you. The former is, well, what it is. But in both cases, the church should view them as ‘the way people are wired’, rather than accepting the disease by shunning the other.

I hope that makes sense. What I’m trying to say is that we, the church, have been hypocritical and that, in itself, is a sin.

But let’s go further.

There’s another expression that gets thrown around a lot in the Christian community:


What Would Jesus Do?

“Well,” some church leaders might say, “Jesus was a good Jewish man, He would have followed the Old Testament which says in Leviticus blah blah blah…”

But we actually KNOW what Jesus would do. Because we know what He DID. At least some of what He did as recorded in the Gospels.

And what He did was this: love people.

Let me rephrase that: He DANGEROUSLY loved people.

By far the best example is the woman caught in adultery. (Again, not comparing being LGBT+ to adultery, but bear with me.)

To paraphrase the story, the religious leaders of the time brought to Jesus a woman caught in adultery. By their laws, it was required she be executed by having rocks thrown at her until she was dead. A brutal, painful, and I imagine a slow way to die.

So they bring her to Him and say “what would you do? Our laws demand she be executed!”

Jesus says “let those among you who have never sinned throw the first stone.”

One by one they drop their stones and leave.

That took some serious guts.

By the law that these religious leaders followed (most of which was made up junk on top of the laws of Moses that they claimed to have followed), they could have not only executed her, but Him as well. On the spot.

In the story, the Pharisees pose the question and Jesus doesn’t immediately answer. He IGNORES them and bends down and writes something in the dirt. (We don’t know what it was, he could have been playing tic-tac-toe, who knows?) They ask him again, and he tells them “if you’re sinless, throw the stones” and GOES BACK TO WRITING IN THE DIRT!

He not only takes a dangerous stand, He has the gall (from their point of view) not only to take a stand against them but to basically blow them off.


He loved her, in spite of her actions, and he did so in a way that could have immediately resulted in his death.

And this isn’t the only example.

There’s the Samaritan woman at the well. The Canaanite woman whose daughter is possessed. The centurion and his servant, the possessed man who lived in a graveyard (a Gentile – non-Hebrew – which we know because the people nearby raised pigs)…

These are all people that the religious leaders of the day saw as outsiders or worse. Even his closest disciples were sometimes like “Dude, what are you doing?”

Jesus loved people, no matter what their condition, location, or circumstanced and He did so dangerously. Wrecklessly.

And then He told us to do the same. The greatest commandment. The one He said that all the others hang one: “Love your God and Love Your Neighbor as yourself”.

While Jesus took these words from the Old Testament laws, He also flipped them. While the Old Testament command to love God was an order, something you had to do, and the rules about your neighbor were things you were to avoid (“don’t do this to them, don’t do that to them”) Jesus used a very different word.

That word is “ἀγαπάω” (agapaō). You might have heard the English word “agape” (ah GAH peh).

Rather than being passive or an avoiding of certain actions, agape is ACTIVE. And not like an order, the Greek word implies a flowing out, something that exudes from you.

Like joy.

A way to think about it is a child at their own birthday party. Imagine that joy, that delight and squealing with happiness, as love for your neighbor.


But then Jesus goes further. Who is your neighbor?

Everyone knows the story of the Good Samaritan. But what many modern readers miss is who the characters are in the story.

There’s the victim. We don’t know who he is. The only thing Jesus tells us is where he was coming from and where he was going. Other than that we don’t know his nationality or anything. Generic man.

There’s the robbers. Mentioned in passing, they beat and strip the victim. They’re not important to the story.

Then there’s the three main characters.

A priest. A Levite. And a Samaritan.

The priest and the Levite are important people. They work in the Temple and care for it. They teach the law and lead the songs and more than anyone else they should know what God wants people to do.

Think of them like a preacher and a worship team leader. They stand before the congregation and teach people about who God is and what God wants.

But both of them leave the victim there. Broken and bleeding and naked, they ignore him. Worse, they go out of their way to go around them. Like road-kill. Imagine you’re driving on the road and there’s a large animal, maybe a deer in the road. What do you do? You go into the other lane to get around it. That’s what these guys did to the victim.

But then there is the Samaritan. It’s important to know that this guy is a Samaritan. To the people Jesus is talking to the very word Samaritan would have been shocking.

To be blunt, the Israelite people of Jesus’ time saw the Samaritans as… well, mutts. They were the descendants of Israelites but they had ‘muddied’ themselves by marrying outside the tribes of Israel. But WORSE, they had also polluted the religion of the Israelites and worshiped God in places other than the Temple.

To the Israelites of Jesus time, they were, in essence, terrorists.

But here comes this Samaritan, and he sees the victim that the priest and Levite had ignored and had gone out of their way to avoid, and he takes the poor guy and not only cares for him, but when he has to continue on his way pays the inn keeper to care for him and to send him the bill.

And Jesus holds this guy up as the example to follow. Someone who everyone sees as a terrorist is the example to follow in loving your neighbor.

Love dangerously. The Samaritan loved the guy dangerously. He didn’t know who the guy was. If the victim was also a priest or a Levite they guy would have acted violently toward the Samaritan, but he didn’t care and took care of the guy anyway.

Love. Dangerously.

The greatest commandment. To paraphrase given the example Jesus gave in the parable: Love God and Love even those who are extremely different from you and do so in a way that risks your own life.

If that is our greatest commandment, and the word Jesus used implies an active, flowing, uplifting love, then to do any less for anyone in our midst is a sin.

And that includes not only includes but INSISTS the LGBT+ community.

To not affirm people as they are, as they define themselves (if such affirmation is not including self or other harming, like addiction) is, by definition, breaking the greatest commandment.

And to break that commandment is the greatest sin.

This entire post is way off on a rant and ramble, but this is something I feel very strongly about.

Love is love.

God is love.

WWJD? Love.

Too many people, too much of church teaching hinges on a couple of verses that are taken completely out of context and in our English Bibles are translated improperly. Homosexuality, in the context of the Bible as a whole, is not even really there. It’s not in the Ten Commandments, it’s not in any of the teachings of Christ and I, personally, feel that we as a church, as a faith, as a community need to move beyond it to the bigger broader teaching of Jesus. And that is to love, to actively, violently, DANGEROUSLY love people where they are. As they are. To AFFIRM them as they are, so long as what they are does not involve self-harm or other harm. And if it does then that is the part we heal. Everything else we embrace.

To do any less is breaking the greatest commandment. And is the greatest sin.


Ok, I’m done ranting. I love you. I violently dangerously love you. I mean that.



Come Sunday

Netflix recently added the true story of Bishop Carlton Pearson, a Pentecostal preacher who found himself a heretic in the eyes of his peers when he found he could no longer espouse a belief in Hell in good conscious.

The film is very good as far a bio-pics go. While slow moving, it does well in showing the inner conflict of the lead character. If you have the patience, it is well worth the watch.

But it leads to the bigger discussion – what about Hell? If God is… well, GOD… and he is a God of love and forgiveness, are we damned or are we saved? Specifically are we ALL saved? And if not, then what is necessary to BE saved?

And the film even goes to the ‘gay’ question. If one is ‘gay’ are they doomed no matter what? Is there a difference between “being gay and doing gay”, a quote and question that is heard often in the film. Is there an easy answer? In the end, the question is left open for you to find the answer.

In reality, though, Bishop Pearson continues to speak and write on the of Hell and damnation. “Hell was never God’s intention. It is man’s invention. It is a human-manufactured religious icon, no less idolatrous than deifying a statue.” writes Parson in “God Is Not a Christian, Nor a Jew, Muslim, Hindu…: God Dwells with Us, in Us, Around Us, as Us

Come Sunday, what will you hear from the pulpit in your church? That God so loved THE WORLD that He saved it? Or that some are doomed for eternity for their sins? Where do you find yourself on the doctrine of Hell? If you’ve been following us for a while, you can probably guess my answer. Where do you stand? I’d love to know!