A Little Blog Lovin'

I have consolidated all my posts into the tabs above.  This will make it easier for my ten readers to navigate who I am.  All my critics will be able to utilize the information they haven;t seen yet, to further marginalize me in their minds, to their friends and family, and those they control.

For all the rest of you, I hope the new-ish format makes for easy and exciting reading.  If you get tired of religion, go to my "On Politics" page.  Once tired of heavy stuff, go to my "Daily Life" page for fluffy flowers and bunnies.

Whatever you do, have fun!  And please become a follower and comment at will.  I love disagreement and anger, as well as agreement and joy.  In truth, I need affirmation or I wither away.

Enjoy!

By the Way, I'm Not Gay

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The following post is VERY controversial. In ways, I find that unfortunate. It is the raw scrapings of my heart and if you read it, you will discover the real me and more than likely will write me off forever due to the shocking reality of my despicable morality.

***WARNING******WARNING******WARNING******WARNING******WARNING******

I wrote a post about a week ago that mentioned many reasons that I was no longer a “Christian” as defined by that non-exhaustive list. The list included important items like who God is, who Jesus Christ is, whether or not Jesus Christ is singularly sufficient, and much more. It even included odd-ball items like not needing to eat organic foods, homeschooling, and in a later comment, tithing.

I received about half-a-dozen comments in private and in public, affirming many of the items. A few follow-up comments required some clarification on my part.

The idea I was trying to get across was that, for the rest of my life, I will be seeking the truth of who God is, whether God is, who Jesus Christ is, the basic nature of faith, how my faith fits in with the basic nature of faith, how to treat other people, how to view the Bible, and, among others, what is truth and what is fairy tale about heaven and hell. My point was that I did not have to, nor should I be required to settle on a certain creed or creeds so that others could validate my status as a “Christian”. Or, said in a different way, all Christians have different walks in life while the common defining thread connecting us is our belief in Jesus Christ.

What shocked me was the private and public disagreement on one item on the list that seemed to me to be a non-foundational issue. “Shocked” may be a poor choice of a word, keeping in mind the current sociopolitical discourse.

The item was: “If being a Christian means that I must believe that homosexuality is wrong, I am lost. ”

That's it. The thing is, I'm not settled on the answer and I never intend to be. If I do decide it is wrong, I'm going to be forced into some sort of life flip-flop every time I talk to or hang out with some of my dear friends who are gay. I'm going to have to have that nagging, gnawing feeling every time I approach or chat with my gay relatives. If I decide it isn't wrong, I will be alienating many of the people I love. In fact, the issue is so important to some, that they may reject me as a legitimate human being – one that cannot be trusted or easily dismissed as foolish, regardless of the wisdom of my words on related or unrelated subjects.

So, I rest in the gray area of, “I don't care.” I don't! It doesn't bother me one bit. I see it as a person liking ketchup on eggs, rather than mustard. It doesn't define a person for me. In fact, I have never been asked why I am a heterosexual or even been given the thumbs up for passing a “Christianity” litmus test of liking the opposite sex, rather than the same sex.

But, let us, for argument sake, say that being gay is sinful. With that premise, I am going to tell you something you didn't know about me to prove that being a heterosexual deserves a higher status in the eyes of those who deem homosexuality as the unforgivable sin.

• I have uttered thousands, perhaps millions of swear words. And no, not when I whack my thumb with a hammer. I have yelled them at my children, used them in names for my children when they did not do as I asked, used them against my wife in arguments – to win some stupid battle that seemed important at the time. I have yelled them at The Minnesota Twins, politicians, bad drivers, excellent drivers, police officers, pastors, parishioners, patriarchal types, people who disagree with me, my siblings, my mother, my father, relatives, the weather, every one of my vehicles, stinging bees, skunks that jump into my lane and lay down on the road in perfect alignment with my front passenger tire, neighbor's dogs that go to the bathroom on my lawn, people who write better than me, people who don't swear, people who tell me not to swear, those who say swearing is healthy, parents who spank, those who write me off as a bitter young man, my dull razor, the alarm clock, children throwing up, and so much more that I have forgotten.

Repulsed yet? You should be. I am a horrible person. Sure, I'm working on my mouth, but, at the moment it defines who I am. But people consider me a good person, worthy of heaven – and a person who is gay – not so much. A good person? What good person yells at children, using horrible language? What good person calls his wife names when he is losing an argument? WHO DOES THAT???!!!

I have and still do, at times.

Frankly, if anyone was deserving of hell, it would be me. The argument of “It's not the static sin, it's the LIVING in sin that is at issue so you're ok, but a gay person is not,” falls flat because, after all, who is living in sin more than me? Maybe not the swearing part, but most definitely HOW I swear and who I project the words toward.

Maybe you rate sin. Swearing is only half bad. Homosexuality is horrible. If that is the case, I challenge you to send me a list of your sin ratings and I will check off EVERY SINGLE ONE, except for homosexuality, divorce, and physically cheating on my wife.

But, there is a catch. I will be using measures that we find in Matthew 5 – 7 during Jesus' sermon on the mount.

Jesus looked at the Pharisees and acknowledged that they were following the law. But then, he said, “But I say to you...” and then he revealed the true purpose of the law. Never having murdered was most excellent and deserved the awe and respect of their fellow man. But, hating their brother? Never having committed adultery was awesome. But, so much as looking at a woman to lust after her? Yes, the law was a base standard that man could prove on the outside that he was perfect. But God cared about the heart condition. And, keeping the heart condition clean and non-depraved was impossible. Jesus said, “Be perfect!” And, “If you break one law, you've broken them all.” And later, “He who has never sinned, let him cast the first stone.”

Assuming homosexuality is a sin, I am convinced that the standard must be that we should do as Jesus so succinctly said: “All the laws and the words of the prophets can be summed up by loving God and people.”

As I stated above, I don't care to put a label on the morality of the subject. I have way too much invested in people to let a little thing like their lifestyle choice get in the way of some of the best friendships I could ever ask for. In fact, to put it in perspective, my gay friends inquire about my marriage and my love life all the time in normal conversation.

And never once have they judged me for being a heterosexual.

The Stars Always Amaze Me

UPDATE 3/18/2012 2:28P CST:  When I wrote this post on June 29, 2012, I still believed in some sort of God - just not the god of the Bible. Since then, I have left that belief altogether and have become an undefined agnostic.  Regardless, enjoy the post by looking at the world through the innocent eyes of a child.

I love things that are bigger than I am.  Things that boggle my mind.  Things that the experts can explain, but my simple mind sees only God.


Tonight, getting home from Nature Camp, where my sister, who has a degree as a Naturalist (no, that doesn't mean she did her thesis in a nudist colony) took care of my six squirts while my wife and I went on a date, the kids had to go right to bed.  Everyone fell asleep immediately - except Frederic - Juaca Baby, as I call him.


Frederic has a tough time going to sleep.  He loves to get out of bed and play, helping his little brother out of bed and keeping him awake well into the night.  Sometimes, he'll sneak downstairs and find our various hiding spots where the candy is stored and have a ball.  Other times, he'll find any container that can hold liquid and make concoctions out of water and anything else that can go in water, which is, well....anything.  We have thrown away more moldy something-or-others than Kleenex from a month of family colds.


Tonight was no different.  Frederic got to come downstairs and sit in his chair and enjoy the hustle and bustle of my bride and I, sitting around chatting, blogging, and staring at each others smokin' hot bodies.  Ok, maybe a stretch, but hers is most definitely so.  Mine....I'm starting to sag in all the wrong places.  In truth, we were actually cleaning and waiting for one of my wife's friends to come for the weekend.


While cleaning, I took the garbage out and happened to glance at the dark, moonless sky.  I was taken aback at the beauty.  Stars were everywhere.  Bright ones, surrounded by hundreds of dim ones, providing a perfect backdrop for satellites orbiting by.  I rushed in to grab Fred.


We went out in the driveway, folded up his train blankie, and laid down, our bare backs against the smoothish concrete.  For an hour, we played games like, who could find the biggest triangle. (I won that one by cheating.  I picked three stars from each horizon.).  Or, who could find the perfect square.


Fred was fascinated by the bright stars.  Two satellites glided past in a similar orbit going different directions.  A small plane flew overhead with red and green lights on the under-wing tips, bright whites flashing in even intervals, and a yellow incandescent-ish light on the tail.  The engine sped up as it neared the runway approach out of town and disappeared over the tree line.  A star blinked in my peripheral vision and yet could only be seen by the both of us if we kept flitting our eyes past it, never really looking directly at its position.  In the distance, a brighter satellite flew by - maybe a high altitude plane.


As always happens when I stare at the stars, I couldn't get my mind off of wandering into thinking how small and insignificant I was.  The conversation with Fred (6) turned to God.  As any six year old, he spoke confidently of God's enormous size.  How God could bridge the distance between us and the millions of miles in between, to the nearest star.  How God's head was bigger than the whole world and all the worlds in the sun.  How his arms could reach out and push two stars together.


I listened with intense interest, interjecting once, and getting thoroughly rejected, because his older sister, Laura, had told him it was true.  So I listened.  When he was done, I spoke of my understanding of God, His Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Very simple.  No complexities.  He didn't care.  The stars were his image of God at the moment and explained perfectly what he knew of Him.


I realized right then and there that I was free.  I was free to tell my son what I knew of God without the guilty feeling that I needed to convert him then and there.  I didn't need to push my son to believe what I knew of God.  He would get there.  God, in His time, would reveal Himself to Fred.


We got up and went inside.  Inside the house that God was too big to fit his nose into and yet, as Fred said, lived inside of anyway.  He went to bed happy and fell asleep.