I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the fact that Jesus never started a religion. He was born a Jew, raised a Jew, lived as a Jew, and remained a Jew throughout his life. He never told anyone to stop being Jews, or any other religion for that matter. He did not say “you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my religion.”
He also never discussed music, whether it was good or bad, or what kinds should be considered sinful. He never told anyone not to dance. He never told anyone what not to wear. And he never told anyone not to drink alcohol. In fact, as we all know, he transformed water into wine. He apparently thought this was a more appropriate beverage for a good party.
Jesus sure seemed more concerned with religious hypocrisy than legislating morality. He was concerned with people’s hearts, not their exteriors. And he encouraged his followers not to worry so much about such outward things, but rather make sure they were doing well on the inside.
In fact, those who only cared about appearances, he called “white-washed tombs” and likened them to dirty dishes that had been polished on the outside but were full of rotten remains. And who were they, again? Oh yeah. The preachers and religious teachers.
He said they didn’t practice what they preached. He claimed they did everything to draw attention to themselves. That they wanted the most important seat in the house and loved titles. That they tithed but neglected “the more important matters of the law – justice, mercy and faithfulness.” The similarities to today’s Christian celeb list are almost shocking. And Jesus said they were full of “greed and self-indulgence,” of “hypocrisy and wickedness.”
The church pendulum has swung from open warfare against pop culture to here lately pretty much adopting every aspect of it. Only about a decade after it was “pop.” It seems really interested in packaging the Gospel in a culturally relevant wrap. And somehow, the bigger and flashier the packaging gets, the smaller the contents become. It’s just like the supermarket!
Jesus never tried to be “relevant.” He never tried to look like, act like, or sound like the pop culture of the day. I’d say he was counterculture. Did he influence his culture? Sure. But he never butted into people’s personal lifestyle preferences, such as taste in music, clothing or beverages. He cared about the well-being of the whole person.
He was into content and left the packaging alone.
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Fashion Fallout
Fabulous fall fashion is here! Full bottoms and slim on top, or big tops with skinny bottoms. This year is all about the new silhouettes. Belts are a must. They’ve traveled north from hip to waist after a sizzling vacation down south.
The waistline, mind you, is the most important body part this season. And legs, of course. You gotta have’m if you think you’ll rock the new dresses, whose hemlines have traveled quite a bit too. The sweater dress, cozy and comfy, could be worn over pants, leggings or bare gams.
The styles we lowly consumers finally get to touch and feel in stores this fall were showcased at designer fashion shows in Paris, Milan and New York many months ago. Crowded with glitterati wearing their newest, shiniest personalities; runways grazed by sleek physiques in the latest belted trench coats and round-toed boots. Limelight hogs swarming like moths around a streetlamp while stone-faced, ashen waifs snaked down the catwalks clad in heavy black and grey with hints of red.
Recently though, at the Madrid Fashion Week, models that were too skinny were banned from the runways! One small step for womanhood, one giant leap for the fashion industry.
What we cover our bodies with is obviously more than covering. Aside from shielding us from the elements and sparing us the embarrassment of public nudity, clothing plays the role of mask, uniform, hideout, statement, expression, projection, decoration. What are we hiding from? What are we saying? What statement do we make? And why do we care. So much?
Fashion sense is not just about clothing. A fashion forward individual has gotta show off the season’s featured body part, and if you don’t have one, buy one. Be it a smaller waist, fuller chest, straighter nose, poutier lips, archier eyebrows – or why not just buy a new face and body altogether. I mean, look at Pam Anderson or even Ashlee Simpson. Works for them, right?
The fallout of the fashion industry is that no one is good enough anymore. Striving for so-called perfection so many go under the knife in search of the elusive ideal look.
Like the look means anything. It ‘s nice gift wrap. But what’s the gift? What is beneath all those layers of packaging?
A kid on Christmas sees his presents and gests all excited. Does he admire the wrapping and display the presents neatly in his room, so that all his friends can admire the beautiful gift wrap someone gave him? Right. He tears off the wrapping , crumples it up and throws it away. He wants to see what’s inside.
How disappointing if he found a box full of greed, selfishness, cheating, lying, and self-indulgence! Someone called it whitewashed graves. All pretty on the outside and rotten on the inside.
But looking fabulous doesn’t necessarily exclude being fabulous on the inside. Just remember, shine your inside first, then let the inside shine through. If you want to wrap the whole package in some fine fall fashions and be fabulous inside and out – more power to you. I say, live fabulously!
I'd love to hear your thoughts - please comment on the original post!
The waistline, mind you, is the most important body part this season. And legs, of course. You gotta have’m if you think you’ll rock the new dresses, whose hemlines have traveled quite a bit too. The sweater dress, cozy and comfy, could be worn over pants, leggings or bare gams.
The styles we lowly consumers finally get to touch and feel in stores this fall were showcased at designer fashion shows in Paris, Milan and New York many months ago. Crowded with glitterati wearing their newest, shiniest personalities; runways grazed by sleek physiques in the latest belted trench coats and round-toed boots. Limelight hogs swarming like moths around a streetlamp while stone-faced, ashen waifs snaked down the catwalks clad in heavy black and grey with hints of red.
Recently though, at the Madrid Fashion Week, models that were too skinny were banned from the runways! One small step for womanhood, one giant leap for the fashion industry.
What we cover our bodies with is obviously more than covering. Aside from shielding us from the elements and sparing us the embarrassment of public nudity, clothing plays the role of mask, uniform, hideout, statement, expression, projection, decoration. What are we hiding from? What are we saying? What statement do we make? And why do we care. So much?
Fashion sense is not just about clothing. A fashion forward individual has gotta show off the season’s featured body part, and if you don’t have one, buy one. Be it a smaller waist, fuller chest, straighter nose, poutier lips, archier eyebrows – or why not just buy a new face and body altogether. I mean, look at Pam Anderson or even Ashlee Simpson. Works for them, right?
The fallout of the fashion industry is that no one is good enough anymore. Striving for so-called perfection so many go under the knife in search of the elusive ideal look.
Like the look means anything. It ‘s nice gift wrap. But what’s the gift? What is beneath all those layers of packaging?
A kid on Christmas sees his presents and gests all excited. Does he admire the wrapping and display the presents neatly in his room, so that all his friends can admire the beautiful gift wrap someone gave him? Right. He tears off the wrapping , crumples it up and throws it away. He wants to see what’s inside.
How disappointing if he found a box full of greed, selfishness, cheating, lying, and self-indulgence! Someone called it whitewashed graves. All pretty on the outside and rotten on the inside.
But looking fabulous doesn’t necessarily exclude being fabulous on the inside. Just remember, shine your inside first, then let the inside shine through. If you want to wrap the whole package in some fine fall fashions and be fabulous inside and out – more power to you. I say, live fabulously!
I'd love to hear your thoughts - please comment on the original post!
Miracle-Gambling and the Cult of Quick-Fix Christianity
Why is it that some Christians are so obsessed with miracles? Jesus did say that certain "signs" and "wonders" should follow those who believe - yet it sure seems these days, too many believers follow these so-called miracles and not the other way around. The Benny Hinns of the world seem to thrive on the expectation in their followers that something miraculous will happen and in an instant fix all their ailments - often caused by decades of poor diet and unhealthy lifestyles.
People speculate in financial miracles, too. They spend years mismanaging their money, all the while praying for a miracle to wipe out their debt and fix their problems. The problem, however, is plain and simple irresponsibility.
When a relative or friend finally steps in and bails them out, they chuck it up to a “miracle” – “God” came through in a powerful way.
Sure, I believe God is full of grace and we all could use a second chance from time to time - hey, we're all human, so we're going to screw up now and then.
But waiting around for a miracle instead of doing your part to fix your own situation - or better yet - listening to those around you who warned you not to make the stupid decisions that got you into the mess in the first place - is the ultimate form of laziness.
Always wanting God to come through with a quick-fix solution is nothing other than a gambling habit.
Put your coin in the slot machine and expect a big win in return!
Christians seem especially prone to be caught in pyramid schemes and multi-level marketing ploys that promise quick profits with minimal effort. Always the sucker for a quick fix, they pay the required fees and setup charges, all the while feeding their “sponsors.”
The next step is pestering those in their own circle of friends and relatives, to the point of alienating them all – if they weren’t already alienated by these people’s constant expectancy that someone else (read: “God” in the form of the people in their lives) will pay off their debts, pick up when they crash, and basically take care of them since they refuse to do so themselves.
Don’t get me wrong. I believe in miracles. I believe that in rare and extreme circumstances, God chooses to break his own natural laws and overstep nature – make something supernatural happen. But mostly, he trusts us to play by the rules he established - to sow and reap, work with our hands, and to use our God-given brains to develop medicine, make money, and create a future for ourselves and our offspring.
How about putting your money on that horse.
I'd love to hear your thoughts - please comment on the original post!
People speculate in financial miracles, too. They spend years mismanaging their money, all the while praying for a miracle to wipe out their debt and fix their problems. The problem, however, is plain and simple irresponsibility.
When a relative or friend finally steps in and bails them out, they chuck it up to a “miracle” – “God” came through in a powerful way.
Sure, I believe God is full of grace and we all could use a second chance from time to time - hey, we're all human, so we're going to screw up now and then.
But waiting around for a miracle instead of doing your part to fix your own situation - or better yet - listening to those around you who warned you not to make the stupid decisions that got you into the mess in the first place - is the ultimate form of laziness.
Always wanting God to come through with a quick-fix solution is nothing other than a gambling habit.
Put your coin in the slot machine and expect a big win in return!
Christians seem especially prone to be caught in pyramid schemes and multi-level marketing ploys that promise quick profits with minimal effort. Always the sucker for a quick fix, they pay the required fees and setup charges, all the while feeding their “sponsors.”
The next step is pestering those in their own circle of friends and relatives, to the point of alienating them all – if they weren’t already alienated by these people’s constant expectancy that someone else (read: “God” in the form of the people in their lives) will pay off their debts, pick up when they crash, and basically take care of them since they refuse to do so themselves.
Don’t get me wrong. I believe in miracles. I believe that in rare and extreme circumstances, God chooses to break his own natural laws and overstep nature – make something supernatural happen. But mostly, he trusts us to play by the rules he established - to sow and reap, work with our hands, and to use our God-given brains to develop medicine, make money, and create a future for ourselves and our offspring.
How about putting your money on that horse.
I'd love to hear your thoughts - please comment on the original post!
This I Believe
I used to believe in the power of God and Dad.
When as a kid I implored my parents for a pet, I was persistent. Asking for smaller and smaller pets as I figured this would increase my chances. After begging for a parakeet one night, Dad told me to pray and believe God for it.
So I did.
And sure enough, God and Dad came through, and I was granted permission to get a parakeet, on the strict condition that I alone take care of it.
And I did.
I devoted myself to my new pet and the many more parakeets, hamsters, mice, a rabbit and fish to come.
As a teenager, I wanted to go on a multi-nation mission trip, and again, Dad told me to believe God for the money to go. And again, God and Dad came through. Somehow, he was able to come up with the amount needed from the church’s missions fund.
God and Dad were on a pedestal in my world.
They were powerful, benevolent beings to be respected and admired. Over time, through a series of unfortunate events, involving various members of the family, Dad was shot down from his high post, and with him, went God.
Dad and I have had a civil, yet distant relationship for years, and so have God and I. Though I often longed for a warmer, closer connection, I found myself unable to speak their language, as that would involve entering their reality.
God and Dad create reality. I am familiar with both their realities, but am currently living in the world of flesh and blood, of action and reaction, choice and consequence. I can relate to God’s spiritual reality as transcendent of this world, as above and beyond that of the senses, but I have difficulty entering that reality these days.
Perhaps it is not so much difficulty as it is unwillingness. It has taken me years to realize that I have always related to God through the reality of Dad. In our home, Dad’s word was law, and to Dad, the law was God’s word.
Ergo, Dad’s word equals God’s word. Dad’s reality becomes God’s reality.
When I no longer could, or would, speak Dad’s language, as it were, I found I lost my ability to communicate with God. When I stopped traveling to that remote and distant planet of Dad’s version of reality, I also stopped entering into the realm I had come to know as the presence of God.
So I spent a bunch of years trying to untangle what was God and what was Dad.
I’m still not totally sure half the time, but so far, I’ve come up with this:
God is good and so is Dad. God, however, has omniscient perspective, and Dad does not. God’s definition of good is often what we think is bad but ends up being good anyway… What Dad means for good often ends up bad. Dad fails and God doesn’t.
Dad wanted to teach me to believe in God – to trust in God and not in people. Inadvertently, Dad taught me to believe in himself. To expect him to come through with a solution to my problems. When he fell short of my expectations, I didn’t know what to believe.
It took me a long time to learn that there’s nothing wrong in needing people. Not to fix your problems or live life for you. But it is through people God shows his love, shows his will, interacts with us. No man is an island. People are the voice by which God communicates – most of the time. God became man. He chose the human form. He made friends.
Now, I believe in the power of God.
I believe this power is everywhere in the physical reality God created. In the air, in the mountains, in the streams – God is in the flowers, the trees – and in the people I find myself surrounded with. So, go ahead, talk to me. Engage me. I want to hear from God.
I'd love to hear your thoughts - please comment on the original post!
When as a kid I implored my parents for a pet, I was persistent. Asking for smaller and smaller pets as I figured this would increase my chances. After begging for a parakeet one night, Dad told me to pray and believe God for it.
So I did.
And sure enough, God and Dad came through, and I was granted permission to get a parakeet, on the strict condition that I alone take care of it.
And I did.
I devoted myself to my new pet and the many more parakeets, hamsters, mice, a rabbit and fish to come.
As a teenager, I wanted to go on a multi-nation mission trip, and again, Dad told me to believe God for the money to go. And again, God and Dad came through. Somehow, he was able to come up with the amount needed from the church’s missions fund.
God and Dad were on a pedestal in my world.
They were powerful, benevolent beings to be respected and admired. Over time, through a series of unfortunate events, involving various members of the family, Dad was shot down from his high post, and with him, went God.
Dad and I have had a civil, yet distant relationship for years, and so have God and I. Though I often longed for a warmer, closer connection, I found myself unable to speak their language, as that would involve entering their reality.
God and Dad create reality. I am familiar with both their realities, but am currently living in the world of flesh and blood, of action and reaction, choice and consequence. I can relate to God’s spiritual reality as transcendent of this world, as above and beyond that of the senses, but I have difficulty entering that reality these days.
Perhaps it is not so much difficulty as it is unwillingness. It has taken me years to realize that I have always related to God through the reality of Dad. In our home, Dad’s word was law, and to Dad, the law was God’s word.
Ergo, Dad’s word equals God’s word. Dad’s reality becomes God’s reality.
When I no longer could, or would, speak Dad’s language, as it were, I found I lost my ability to communicate with God. When I stopped traveling to that remote and distant planet of Dad’s version of reality, I also stopped entering into the realm I had come to know as the presence of God.
So I spent a bunch of years trying to untangle what was God and what was Dad.
I’m still not totally sure half the time, but so far, I’ve come up with this:
God is good and so is Dad. God, however, has omniscient perspective, and Dad does not. God’s definition of good is often what we think is bad but ends up being good anyway… What Dad means for good often ends up bad. Dad fails and God doesn’t.
Dad wanted to teach me to believe in God – to trust in God and not in people. Inadvertently, Dad taught me to believe in himself. To expect him to come through with a solution to my problems. When he fell short of my expectations, I didn’t know what to believe.
It took me a long time to learn that there’s nothing wrong in needing people. Not to fix your problems or live life for you. But it is through people God shows his love, shows his will, interacts with us. No man is an island. People are the voice by which God communicates – most of the time. God became man. He chose the human form. He made friends.
Now, I believe in the power of God.
I believe this power is everywhere in the physical reality God created. In the air, in the mountains, in the streams – God is in the flowers, the trees – and in the people I find myself surrounded with. So, go ahead, talk to me. Engage me. I want to hear from God.
I'd love to hear your thoughts - please comment on the original post!
About Time
Time is running away.
It’s like it committed a crime or something, its running so fast. Why is time in such a rush, anyway?! I think it has something to do with watches and computers.
They say what you don’t know won’t hurt you. Once upon a time, when time was young and lazy, we didn’t know all that much, so we must not have been hurting that much either.
Today, though, it’s a different story. In this age of information, we’ve got pretty much every piece of information we might ever want, literally at our fingertips. Just type your question into the computer, and BAM! There it is. The answer. Most diseases have been cured – although new ones keep cropping up. Those damned diseases. Won’t ever quit. Anyway, my point being, we’re well on our way to taming nature and conquering the universe.
But there’s one thing we’re still trying to figure out, and that is time. How the heck does it do that?! That thing. Slow and fast, slow fast, fast slow. When you want it to stand still, it becomes a sky rocket. When you want it to go ahead and hurry the bleep up, it becomes this syyyyyyyyyyrupy substance that barely moves.
Time is rushing like water.
That is, when it is in a rush. Which is most of the time. Rush, rush, rush… new directions, new challenges, new everything. You never see the same piece of time again. Never. It changes constantly, renewing itself, becoming something different. Time heals everything, they say. Well, that may be true. It’s just how the body heals itself. It just piles layers and layers of new cells on in place of the old, broken ones, and bam! You got a scab. And bam! You got a scar. And – maybe not bam, but eventually, maybe, scar’s gone, too. At least much less visible. With time.
Time is a strange creature.
A ball that bounces around with no apparent plan or direction. I pick it up in my hand to study it, to find out what it really looks like, must try and do something with it, then, all of a sudden it is gone like the spirit in Aladdin’s lamp; unnoticed it has vanished and run out between my fingers like sand in an hour glass.
Before, when time was just a round slice that trotted along, round and round in circles at a comfortable speed, there was no problem. But then the railroad was invented and the trains had to be on time. We had to start keeping track of time. Connections and communications were developed. Time was synchronized all over the world. Then we got digital watches. And that’s when time really got in a rush.
Ever watched a stopwatch count time? All those tenths and hundredths racing, galloping, flying ahead, crumbling away at time. Nothing left behind. A burning fuse being eaten away. And then came the nano-seconds. Computerized time tracking, because we had now broken time up into such small pieces that the human brain could no longer relate to it (just read Alvin Toffler’s Time Wars described in the Antioch Group.) No wonder we get stressed out!
Time to slow down.
People have never had as much spare time as in our time. And never have people complained as much about lack of time. But we need not forget that the same industry that provides us with all our “time saving” gadgets, also gives us plenty of stuff to waste our “saved” minutes and hours on. What would we do without TV or videogames, for crying out loud! Old people probably wonder why young ones always seem so stressed when they have their entire lives ahead of them to do whatever it is that they need to do. Truth of the matter is, they are the ones with a reason to stress out, with so little time left. But then, again, they were born of a different time.
Time to be. On time.
Which I rarely am, even though I always try to be. Why is it so difficult for me to be on time?! I think it has something to do with always trying to cram too much stuff into my time space. You know, that room of time we all have at our disposal. “I don’t have time,” we say. But that’s definitely a lie. If there’s one thing that is absolutely evenly divided between every human being, it is time. Rich or poor, high or low – we all have that same size room of time to furnish as we wish. Our problem is always trying to fit too much furniture in without thinking of leaving enough living space.
Enjoy the time you have. Be. Measure out some time to live.
It’s about time.
I'd love to hear your thoughts - please comment on the original post!
It’s like it committed a crime or something, its running so fast. Why is time in such a rush, anyway?! I think it has something to do with watches and computers.
They say what you don’t know won’t hurt you. Once upon a time, when time was young and lazy, we didn’t know all that much, so we must not have been hurting that much either.
Today, though, it’s a different story. In this age of information, we’ve got pretty much every piece of information we might ever want, literally at our fingertips. Just type your question into the computer, and BAM! There it is. The answer. Most diseases have been cured – although new ones keep cropping up. Those damned diseases. Won’t ever quit. Anyway, my point being, we’re well on our way to taming nature and conquering the universe.
But there’s one thing we’re still trying to figure out, and that is time. How the heck does it do that?! That thing. Slow and fast, slow fast, fast slow. When you want it to stand still, it becomes a sky rocket. When you want it to go ahead and hurry the bleep up, it becomes this syyyyyyyyyyrupy substance that barely moves.
Time is rushing like water.
That is, when it is in a rush. Which is most of the time. Rush, rush, rush… new directions, new challenges, new everything. You never see the same piece of time again. Never. It changes constantly, renewing itself, becoming something different. Time heals everything, they say. Well, that may be true. It’s just how the body heals itself. It just piles layers and layers of new cells on in place of the old, broken ones, and bam! You got a scab. And bam! You got a scar. And – maybe not bam, but eventually, maybe, scar’s gone, too. At least much less visible. With time.
Time is a strange creature.
A ball that bounces around with no apparent plan or direction. I pick it up in my hand to study it, to find out what it really looks like, must try and do something with it, then, all of a sudden it is gone like the spirit in Aladdin’s lamp; unnoticed it has vanished and run out between my fingers like sand in an hour glass.
Before, when time was just a round slice that trotted along, round and round in circles at a comfortable speed, there was no problem. But then the railroad was invented and the trains had to be on time. We had to start keeping track of time. Connections and communications were developed. Time was synchronized all over the world. Then we got digital watches. And that’s when time really got in a rush.
Ever watched a stopwatch count time? All those tenths and hundredths racing, galloping, flying ahead, crumbling away at time. Nothing left behind. A burning fuse being eaten away. And then came the nano-seconds. Computerized time tracking, because we had now broken time up into such small pieces that the human brain could no longer relate to it (just read Alvin Toffler’s Time Wars described in the Antioch Group.) No wonder we get stressed out!
Time to slow down.
People have never had as much spare time as in our time. And never have people complained as much about lack of time. But we need not forget that the same industry that provides us with all our “time saving” gadgets, also gives us plenty of stuff to waste our “saved” minutes and hours on. What would we do without TV or videogames, for crying out loud! Old people probably wonder why young ones always seem so stressed when they have their entire lives ahead of them to do whatever it is that they need to do. Truth of the matter is, they are the ones with a reason to stress out, with so little time left. But then, again, they were born of a different time.
Time to be. On time.
Which I rarely am, even though I always try to be. Why is it so difficult for me to be on time?! I think it has something to do with always trying to cram too much stuff into my time space. You know, that room of time we all have at our disposal. “I don’t have time,” we say. But that’s definitely a lie. If there’s one thing that is absolutely evenly divided between every human being, it is time. Rich or poor, high or low – we all have that same size room of time to furnish as we wish. Our problem is always trying to fit too much furniture in without thinking of leaving enough living space.
Enjoy the time you have. Be. Measure out some time to live.
It’s about time.
I'd love to hear your thoughts - please comment on the original post!
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