Zombie Savior, that's what I used to call it, I actually used His name in vain, but you get the just of it.I found it impossible to believe that a man would raise others from the dead, and then for the coup de grace, raise Himself from the dead. On my list of possibles, that was top. Raise from the dead, not in a million, and yet here was that claim. That He died and in 3 days rose again. Yeah right, or was it possible?
First I looked at the story, women found the grave empty, uh huh, yeah right. At that time, women were the lower, not only were they not listened to, their word would not have been even considered, and at the same right, there it is. Women found Jesus' tomb empty. That alone was interesting, if there was anything to be edited in the bible along the way wouldn't they have not given women the credit?
Second, the Pharisees bribed people to say that the disciples had stolen the body, that is in both Jewish and Roman account, why would they bribe anyone if the body was still there.
Third, He was laid to rest by Joseph of Arimathea, who was probably a member of the Sanhedrin, an 'honorable counselor who waited for the Kingdom of God'. If Jesus was just a crackpot why did a possible member of the Sanhedrin come to bury Him and claim the body?
So on and so forth, but there was something that I just feel I can't argue with. The disciples, including Jesus' brother James, and the Apostle Paul, their fates. Now James, the half brother of Jesus did not 'believe' until after the resurrection, I often picture James saying, 'yeah, that's my bro, he does alot of cool things for people, but (in whispering tone) he says he's the son of God and he will rise from the dead, so... yeah.' Yet, after Jesus' resurrection he believed so deeply in seeing his brother raised from the dead that he not only preached what he saw, that he was martyred, and not just martyred, but he was stoned, and not in the drug way, he was repeatedly beaten by thrown rocks until he died. Why would someone go to a death like that for a lie? All he would have to say is, we were just kidding, we made it up, and yet, he was stoned and not only was his fate that, but he prayed for them, his final quote, 'I beseech Thee, Lord God our Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.' For me, how could I argue with that, not only did he go to his death, he went praying for them.
So for the short and skinny, that is much of the overview of why I believe what I believe, and some of the reasons of why I believe what I do. In this, I have found an inner peace I have never known, I have found something greater than myself to live for, and I have found something that makes my soul sing. In that, believe whatever you wish to believe, just as long as you believe in it, and remember to love each other.
Nuff said. I love each and every one of you and God does too. LLLAKYFOTPA XD
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
I Pray To A Rebel King Part 2
To rewind a little, I was on a mission to point out the church's hypocrisy so that I could get back to my usual Sunday morning. Laying around, leisurely cooking a big breakfast when it was about 1 pm and so on and so forth. Yet in my first experience in a long time, I had found some of what I searched for, and yet I found so many more questions.What was the deal with the truly happy people there? Instead of the 'holier than thou' minister, I had found a real man who spoke of heroin and cocaine addiction and had testified that it was Christ who had given him peace. I had met people who seemed genuinely interested in meeting me and instead of imposing some unattainable law they had just offered me their friendship. I was confused and irritated, I was convinced that there was something that they were hiding or it was a cult.
As I started to form my attack, I had it all planned, I would attack with science, I would attack with facts and figures and statistics. As I brushed up on my studying of evolution and how I was going to prove science over 'idiocy', I found an article on tomatoes in Japan. Now, it may not seem like much, but it delved into the subject of excessively oxygenating tomatoes and that they would not only grow so much more healthy, but to enormous size. As I pondered that, I was handed some DVD's by a man named Ken Ham, a scientist who inquires on the biblical with scientific hypothesis. As I repeatedly watched the DVD's I became fascinated with disproving his theories, and yet no matter where I went, it seemed that many of his theories had valid merit. It confounded and confused me more, and honestly, pissed me the frick off.
I looked in historical documents, to try and take it apart, and yet, I found myself arguing with the documents I found. This was beginning to shake everything I had once believed in, I was finding puzzle pieces that could not fit into my puzzle, at least what I thought the puzzle was. I looked in Greek history, Macedonian, Hebrew(holy crap do they keep an accurate account of everything), Roman, and so on and so forth, even reading some of Marco Polo's journeys for my own quest on dinosaurs. Yeah, well, that's how far out I was going. Yet, I came back to the same things, over and over again. I then studied how the bible as it is accepted today came out within the same generation that Christ himself lived. That even when there was the possibility that it was just some handed down chain of stories, that, ok, look at it this way. If you are an adult, and the children are reading a story that is all in all fallacies and lies, wouldn't there be something to contradict it, over and over again? Yet, even Jewish history has much of the stories in their books, as for Paul who was roman, there is document after document from the roman government since he was a citizen, that tell the same tales, and in that, each time the words are exactly the same, not one difference or deviation. Now I was getting furiously annoyed.
Then it happened, long story short, I found my truth, I found the missing piece of my puzzle, I gave my life to Christ. Long story short. In that, I found a whole new breed of Christians, people who didn't use the title as a shield, people who actually studied the teachings of Christ and practiced it. People who loved one another as He loved us. Real people, with real problems, real lives, and everything that goes with it. People who didn't pray to a perfectly adorned savior with blow dried flow back hair, perfectly trimmed beard, flowing white robe, with powder blue pageant sash perfectly in place. People who followed the teachings and principles of a man who came to earth, was hated by many, constantly chased by authorities, unwelcome in his home town, called every name in the book, hung with the lowest of the low, and spoke out against the government and those who perverted beliefs to outfit their own wants. My Jesus was an outlaw, He was hated, he was persecuted, on the run, and in time killed for His beliefs and willingness to stand up for them. He spoke of love, true love, unadulterated love, Agape, the true love of God. The bulk of those he reprimanded were not those downtrodden, they were the governing rulers and religious majority. He was crowned the King of the Jews and he suffered one of the most horrific deaths that the world ever knew. A death so horrible that a word came from it. The word excruciating, it's latin root excruciare, from cruciare, to crucify. Think about that the next time you use it.
Which brought me to my final arguement, what I used to call Zombie Savior, because even though I was believing in the teachings of Christ, I found it hard to believe that not only did He raise people from the dead that He Himself raised from the dead. (to be concluded).
As I started to form my attack, I had it all planned, I would attack with science, I would attack with facts and figures and statistics. As I brushed up on my studying of evolution and how I was going to prove science over 'idiocy', I found an article on tomatoes in Japan. Now, it may not seem like much, but it delved into the subject of excessively oxygenating tomatoes and that they would not only grow so much more healthy, but to enormous size. As I pondered that, I was handed some DVD's by a man named Ken Ham, a scientist who inquires on the biblical with scientific hypothesis. As I repeatedly watched the DVD's I became fascinated with disproving his theories, and yet no matter where I went, it seemed that many of his theories had valid merit. It confounded and confused me more, and honestly, pissed me the frick off.
I looked in historical documents, to try and take it apart, and yet, I found myself arguing with the documents I found. This was beginning to shake everything I had once believed in, I was finding puzzle pieces that could not fit into my puzzle, at least what I thought the puzzle was. I looked in Greek history, Macedonian, Hebrew(holy crap do they keep an accurate account of everything), Roman, and so on and so forth, even reading some of Marco Polo's journeys for my own quest on dinosaurs. Yeah, well, that's how far out I was going. Yet, I came back to the same things, over and over again. I then studied how the bible as it is accepted today came out within the same generation that Christ himself lived. That even when there was the possibility that it was just some handed down chain of stories, that, ok, look at it this way. If you are an adult, and the children are reading a story that is all in all fallacies and lies, wouldn't there be something to contradict it, over and over again? Yet, even Jewish history has much of the stories in their books, as for Paul who was roman, there is document after document from the roman government since he was a citizen, that tell the same tales, and in that, each time the words are exactly the same, not one difference or deviation. Now I was getting furiously annoyed.
Then it happened, long story short, I found my truth, I found the missing piece of my puzzle, I gave my life to Christ. Long story short. In that, I found a whole new breed of Christians, people who didn't use the title as a shield, people who actually studied the teachings of Christ and practiced it. People who loved one another as He loved us. Real people, with real problems, real lives, and everything that goes with it. People who didn't pray to a perfectly adorned savior with blow dried flow back hair, perfectly trimmed beard, flowing white robe, with powder blue pageant sash perfectly in place. People who followed the teachings and principles of a man who came to earth, was hated by many, constantly chased by authorities, unwelcome in his home town, called every name in the book, hung with the lowest of the low, and spoke out against the government and those who perverted beliefs to outfit their own wants. My Jesus was an outlaw, He was hated, he was persecuted, on the run, and in time killed for His beliefs and willingness to stand up for them. He spoke of love, true love, unadulterated love, Agape, the true love of God. The bulk of those he reprimanded were not those downtrodden, they were the governing rulers and religious majority. He was crowned the King of the Jews and he suffered one of the most horrific deaths that the world ever knew. A death so horrible that a word came from it. The word excruciating, it's latin root excruciare, from cruciare, to crucify. Think about that the next time you use it.
Which brought me to my final arguement, what I used to call Zombie Savior, because even though I was believing in the teachings of Christ, I found it hard to believe that not only did He raise people from the dead that He Himself raised from the dead. (to be concluded).
I pray to a rebel king. Part 1
We all too often get wrapped up in perception, what do I mean? We tag things in so many ways to attempt to put them in a box. Say, religion persay. In my belief, everyone has religion. One of Webster's dictionary defines religion as 'a cause, principle, or system of beliefs held to with ardor and faith', ok, now which one of us can say that some part of our life can not be defined by that. Sure, some of us worship a higher power, and some of us do not, but in that, both are measures of faith. In my view, either way, you either have a faith in a higher power or you have faith that there is not one. My choice, I pray to a rebel king.
I have been following the teachings of Jesus Christ right now, but still I cringe at calling myself a Christian. I am all too often disgusted in the way that so many label themselves as Christians, almost like a 'Get out of jail free' card, they use it as a implement to overlord over others, and spy down from a tall pedestal and chastise, judge, hate, and blame. The sad part, they have created a image of what a 'Christian' is. If you ask many people to define Jesus Christ, you will get words like peace, love, prophet, son of God, for the people, crucified, saved me from myself. Then, when you ask to define Christian, and if it is quite the opposite, hateful, angry, judgmental, and so on and so forth. For me, there is no hate, there is no judgement, only love, in that, you don't have to like, you just have to love. So, for the next few minutes, I am going to spout on what it means to be a servant of Christ, and what does it mean to me.
First of all, for anyone new, I am not a lifelong Christian, haven't been, I have prayed to Odin, I have prayed to Satan, so many other transient beliefs along the way, and I have had faith that there was no existence of a higher power at all. In that, when I began my trip into the church, I went in with total skepticism and in the way that I was reintroduced to church, I went in looking for a way to find fallacy and fault so I could get back to my Sunday morning schedule of sleeping in until I was good and ready to get out of bed, usually at the crack of noon. I had become accustomed to that life, and I quite enjoyed it, either way, with everything I had done, if there was a God, with everything I had done to spit in his face, He was going to be in no mood for me, since all I remembered from when I was young was smoting and hell fire and brimstone, or so I thought. My last time at a church for a service other than Christmas for my mom had been in my early teen years, where I was told, 'either cut my hair or don't come back' , to which I replied, 'Deal', and that's where church left off for me.
So, when I was told it was time to attend church once again, I was not a fan, when the morning came, I proceeded to put on my 'Hellraiser's Ball' T-shirt, every single one of my rings (making sure I didn't forgetmy 'victim' ring, and it was on tight, a large silver ring with 'victim' in raised letters printed backwards, just in case you wanted to make your mark), my darkest set of Loc's (sunglasses), and my dirtiest pair of jeans and boots. To church we went. As we entered in through the door I had planned to have everyone stay away from me, and just suck it up and get through it. That's not what happened, sure there were the usual stay aways, but then there was Russ. One of the founders of the church, if you picture a Disney grandfather, that's Russ, with the happy-go-lucky attitude to boot. It confounded and confused me. On top of that, there were all of these 'happy' people, in my life, I had gotten good at reading people, I was used to the fake smiles and how to do's, but this was different, sure there were the fake smile folks, but there were also people who really seemed to just glow, it confused the crap outta me. I had planned to point out the hypocrisy and go, but it was going to take a little while longer than I expected. (to be continued)
I have been following the teachings of Jesus Christ right now, but still I cringe at calling myself a Christian. I am all too often disgusted in the way that so many label themselves as Christians, almost like a 'Get out of jail free' card, they use it as a implement to overlord over others, and spy down from a tall pedestal and chastise, judge, hate, and blame. The sad part, they have created a image of what a 'Christian' is. If you ask many people to define Jesus Christ, you will get words like peace, love, prophet, son of God, for the people, crucified, saved me from myself. Then, when you ask to define Christian, and if it is quite the opposite, hateful, angry, judgmental, and so on and so forth. For me, there is no hate, there is no judgement, only love, in that, you don't have to like, you just have to love. So, for the next few minutes, I am going to spout on what it means to be a servant of Christ, and what does it mean to me.
First of all, for anyone new, I am not a lifelong Christian, haven't been, I have prayed to Odin, I have prayed to Satan, so many other transient beliefs along the way, and I have had faith that there was no existence of a higher power at all. In that, when I began my trip into the church, I went in with total skepticism and in the way that I was reintroduced to church, I went in looking for a way to find fallacy and fault so I could get back to my Sunday morning schedule of sleeping in until I was good and ready to get out of bed, usually at the crack of noon. I had become accustomed to that life, and I quite enjoyed it, either way, with everything I had done, if there was a God, with everything I had done to spit in his face, He was going to be in no mood for me, since all I remembered from when I was young was smoting and hell fire and brimstone, or so I thought. My last time at a church for a service other than Christmas for my mom had been in my early teen years, where I was told, 'either cut my hair or don't come back' , to which I replied, 'Deal', and that's where church left off for me.
So, when I was told it was time to attend church once again, I was not a fan, when the morning came, I proceeded to put on my 'Hellraiser's Ball' T-shirt, every single one of my rings (making sure I didn't forgetmy 'victim' ring, and it was on tight, a large silver ring with 'victim' in raised letters printed backwards, just in case you wanted to make your mark), my darkest set of Loc's (sunglasses), and my dirtiest pair of jeans and boots. To church we went. As we entered in through the door I had planned to have everyone stay away from me, and just suck it up and get through it. That's not what happened, sure there were the usual stay aways, but then there was Russ. One of the founders of the church, if you picture a Disney grandfather, that's Russ, with the happy-go-lucky attitude to boot. It confounded and confused me. On top of that, there were all of these 'happy' people, in my life, I had gotten good at reading people, I was used to the fake smiles and how to do's, but this was different, sure there were the fake smile folks, but there were also people who really seemed to just glow, it confused the crap outta me. I had planned to point out the hypocrisy and go, but it was going to take a little while longer than I expected. (to be continued)
The Soapbox
Lately, I have been writing more edgy stuff, kinda like the old stuff from the REALLY old blog, unfiltered, uncensored, but at the same right, different, since my life has changed a little since then. So there will be more wanton ramblings between two new blogs, I already have some things written in which I will deposit each one in it's own special spot when it is deemed time. Either or, there is gonna be 'The Soapbox', where I will spout upon my personal beliefs and wonderments, and why I believe them, and there will be 'Crags and Crevices', which will be more of the old 'randoms' stuff.(and will be written mostly free flowing, so for you grammar nazi's, beware, you will have a seizure with my lack of punctuation and spelling phonetically at times) Either or, that's how it's gonna be, I will still post other stuff on old blogs from time to time, but I just feel driven to write like I used to write, cept different. I love each and every one of you and God does too. LLLAKYFOTPA XD
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