Tag: Christianity

Hymns and Hell

Sweet hymn fills my soul
clear voices lifted in praise
on this rock I stand.


Heed the song’s message
Jesus loves all the children
not just those like us.


And on Judgement Day
when the trumpets sound their call
He will know your truth.

I’ve been doing a great deal of thinking lately about faith, religion, and politics. You see, one day this week a “Christian” woman informed me in a tone seething with hatred that I was bound for hell if I voted for Hillary. I smiled and promised that I’d be sure to save her a seat.

Christians come in basically two types of wrappings: those who are of the hellfire and damnation persuasion and those who follow Christ’s teachings. I’m pretty happy being in the second camp. 

I have many non-Christian friends, among them Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, agnostics, and atheists, and I learned a long time ago that goodness and decency aren’t the sole property of Christians. And those same virtues are sorely lacking in some who claim Christianity as their religion.

Heaven and Hell? Well, they might exist, but I know that how I treat others in this life is more important than any promise or threat of an afterlife. One other thing I know is that my teacher, Jesus, wouldn’t turn His back on refugees. 

Peace, people

Literally Laughed Out Loud

Note: I freaking hate Donald Trump, and if I had died in Hurricane Hermine I’d have wanted his sorry ass blamed for it. Carry on.

The first time I came across the picture featured below on Facebook I guffawed. I was sitting in my den with a cat on my lap and laughed so hard that said cat leapt to the floor and hid under my bed for the remainder of the day.

Why one might ask did I find this seemingly harmless statement so funny? Maybe it’s because the closest Trump has been to religion is screaming “Oh God” in the throes of climax.

He thought Second Corinthians was correctly cited as Two Corinthians. Twice divorced, he’s cheated on at least one wife and tried to talk Marla Maples into having an abortion so he wouldn’t feel obligated to marry her. He regularly insults women who do not meet his standards of beauty, calling them fat pigs among other choice names.

Yet some conservative voters herald him as planning to bring God BACK to the White House. Pardon me if I’m missing something, but isn’t God supposed to be omnipresent? Hasn’t God been right there all along? Even back when Richard Nixon was engaged in criminal activity from the Oval Office, God was right there.

We are a nation that officially recognizes a separation between church and state.  That’s as it should be. I’m a Christian, yet I understand that it is critical we keep this separation. Once it’s eroded, all manner of misdeeds can and will be perpetrated in the name of religion. 

Any time a politician claims Christian values, or proposes to unite us under one God, I automatically become suspicious. What are they trying to pull over on us? I’d much rather hear someone say they advocate for equality for all people under the law. That’s what I want, not false claims of religiosity.

That’s all for now.

Peace, people!

When God Speaks

https://www.facebook.com/leslie.h.noyes/posts/10207965981321722

When God speaks I hear
Love others as yourself
Judge not
Fear not

When some hear God
They say He wants them to
Run for office
Exclude others
Discriminate

I really doubt that’s
God talking.

No Immortality

I haven’t responded to a Daily Prompt in over a month, but I thought this one: Finite Creatures: At what age did you realize you weren’t immortal? was thought-provoking.

As a small child, between the ages of three and five, my family and I lived in a series of rental homes. Dad hadn’t yet been elevated to the position of Piggly Wiggly manager, and Mom was a stay-at-home parent, as far as I can recall. At any rate, she was at home the day I came running in the front door crying my eyes out.

“Mommy! I’m going to die!”

“No you aren’t sweetheart!” she said, hugging me.

“Yes, I am  _________________ said I was going to die and Mr. Bugs is going to die and you and Daddy are going to die.” I hiccuped between sobs.

I remember Mom sighing. I know now that sigh meant, “That little brat _______________! Now I have to explain death to my baby.”

My mother was very good at explaining tough things, much better than I ever was. She sat and cradled me in her lap and said that _________________ was right, that everyone dies.

“Even dogs?” I whispered, hoping Mr. Bugs was immune.

“Yes, but Mr. Bugs is a puppy,” she said. “He’s going to live a long time. And you’re just a little girl. You’re going to live a long time, too.”

Of course then I had a bunch of little girl questions:

“Does it hurt to die?”

“What happens when we die?”

“Why do people and dogs die?”

“Will you and Daddy die?”

Mom answered my questions that day as best she could and for many days after. I became obsessed with death. 

I believe this is why I never had that feeling of immortality that most kids and teenagers experience. I never was a daredevil, never a rebel. Caution was my middle name. Death my dread.

We were Christians and the promise of eternal life was always there, but I sure didn’t want to lose this one. I remember vividly _____________________ sitting in his swing, calmly informing me I was going to die. I don’t remember his name, but I’m blaming him for dampening my youthful exuberance.

Stupidhead bunnyfart ___________________!

  
Peace, people!