This generation shall not pass away

A friend of mine is convinced that by the middle of the century, fundamentalist Christianity in North America will be on the brink of extinction.

I couldn't agree more.

The reasons for this are plentiful, and the warning signs are obvious: Young people are increasingly rejecting the outdated faith of their parents. Science is continually teaching us new things about the origins of the universe. Sane, rational human beings are looking at their homosexual friends and neighbors and wondering, "Why, exactly, am I supposed to be afraid of these people?" The list goes on.

People are no longer willing to accept a belief system that discriminates against others, that imprisons the soul. Anyone who takes an honest look at the superiority claims of fundamentalist Christianity has no choice but to reject the religion. If the options are "accept Scripture as inerrant" or "don't accept it at all", most people will choose to not accept it at all. A third option -- "accept Scripture as a product of spiritual men trying to understand the world via myth" -- is hardly ever discussed.

This is my struggle, and the struggle of millions of others. We have come to realize that, despite all the good it accomplishes, fundamentalist Christianity teaches an entirely prejudiced and bigoted approach to life. We have come to realize that the notion of a loving God who mercilessly tortures people for following the wrong version of him is absolutely preposterous.

For some, it's a liberating revelation, a reason to celebrate and reject religion altogether. For others, the discovery is heartwrenching. Many of us still want to believe in an Almighty Creator. We still want to follow the Christ Ideal. We want to be part of a faith community that is inclusive and honest and true. We want to sing spiritual songs and psalms and hymns, to explore prayer and silence and meditation. We want to find common ground with Muslims and Buddhists and atheists and New Age practitioners. We want to grow in love and compassion and kindness. We want to experience a Sacred Romance.

And it pains us to see how how fundamentalist Christians -- the modern day Pharisees -- are murdering God, all over again.

Fatigue

"The most exhausting thing in life is being insincere." -- Anne Morrow Lindbergh

And puts the glory out to hide

I watched a fairly remarkable lightning display from the balcony of my apartment last night.

Thunderstorms have always brought me a deep measure of joy and gladness. As a young child, I would cuddle up next to my parents in front of the big window in our living room whenever a major weather system blew in from the west. I'd watch the fire bolts dance across the night sky, full of awe and wonder and innocence. Dad would wrap his arms around me and cover my ears for the inevitable thunder crash and mom would just smile and laugh. She'd say, "it's getting pretty late, we really should get to bed", but dad and I would put up a fight and beg for one more minute, one more jagged illumination on the horizon.

Life can be hard, and lonely, and painful. Over the past few years, I've become increasingly cynical and jaded towards religion, society, and people in general. Since starting this blog two months ago, I've experienced a profound sense of isolation and brokenness in my personal life, and this feeling has intensified in recent weeks. My posts have been sarcastic, demeaning, and in many instances, angry.

Nothing really changed last night. I still feel confused and frustrated and lost. I still think fundamentalist Christians are insane. I still doubt God. But for a few fleeting moments, I recaptured that childhood sense of awe and wonder and innocence. For a few fleeting moments, I felt like a young boy, sitting on his father's lap, laughing at the beauty of creation. For a few fleeting moments, it was well with my soul.

For the Bible tells me so

An absolute must-see film.

Fear not

"The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature." -- Anne Frank

If it be your will

There's something rather stirring about this performance, don't you think? Antony Hegarty is a 37-year old transgendered musician whose otherworldly voice should be appreciated by anyone with ears to hear. Watching him belt out this beautiful prayer (originally composed by Leonard Cohen) moved me deeply.

The lyrics, in full:

If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will

If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will
To make us well

And draw us near
And bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light
In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will

It's a shame that Antony's blatant homosexuality disqualifies him from 'following Jesus'. An utter shame.

Being poor

Profoundly moving.

Good riddance

"Those people who tell me that I'm going to hell while they are going to heaven somehow make me very glad that we're going to separate destinations." -- Martin Terman

What would Jesus not do?

Fantastic.

Breathe peace

"We say, then, to anyone who is under trial, give Him time to steep the soul in His eternal truth. Go into the open air, look up into the depths of the sky, or out upon the wideness of the sea, or on the strength of the hills that is His also; or, if bound in the body, go forth in the spirit; spirit is not bound. Give Him time and, as surely as dawn follows night, there will break upon the heart a sense of certainty that cannot be shaken." -- Amy Carmichael