Please Love the Hell Out of Me

January 18, 2012 3 Comments

I don’t have to die to visit Hell, you know. My decisions are empowered to make this Earth a living, breathing Hell. For myself and for those in close proximity.

I need to be inoculated. I need a cure. An antidote, as it were.

Human love is like those things. It’s capable. Potent. I need it, and when administered properly, it’s up to the task. Of course, sometimes it takes routine doses over a period of time, and the results may not be immediately obvious, but it works. Can we agree that in patient, human love there is a quiet, steadfast, resilient aptitude to remove Hell from a place, or better yet, a person?

How much more so, then, could a divine love, assuming one exists, do the same.

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The Atheists Have It Right

May 31, 2009 35 Comments

Here is a thing that always bugged me as an Atheist and hasn’t changed since I crossed over to the La La Land of Christian Lemmingism. I seem to remember getting a lot of crap over the notion that, as an Atheist, I believed this one life was all I had.

“Isn’t it sad or depressing to think that when you die you simply cease to exist?” my well-meaning Christian friends would query.

It always seemed obvious to me then, and still does now, that nothing was better than Hell. Wait, that didn’t come out right. What I mean is that ceasing to exist is preferred to spending an eternity in a place like Hell. It is more sad and depressing to me that people who spent an inordinate amount of time doing good on this earth would go to Hell for an eternity than that all people would have one, short, finite life. I mean really. Which presents the greater tragedy?

Another thing I would hear along the same lines is, “If this life is all you have then where is your incentive to be good? Wouldn’t you be motivated to lie and exploit and deceive and cheat since you have just this one life to seek pleasure and no fear of eternal consequences?”

The logic goes, since Atheists don’t know God, the source of all goodness, how could they be anything but powerless to chase after both the carnal and the diabolical sins? They can’t help it, right?

No.

Atheists are not so shallow and immoral as you might expect. They believe in love and justice and honor and respect and the sanctity of marriage. They die for our country, uphold our laws, research our medical treatments, and educate our children. When you believe that you only have one, finite life… your motivation is to seek pleasure to be sure. But if the good things in life really are good, and the bad things really are bad, what greater pleasure could there be than spending a single, finite life pursuing the joy and satisfaction that can only be achieved by the higher virtues?

Besides, I think it is best that we, as Christians, not be too quick to pull out our moral report card to compare it against others. I’m not convinced I’d be too keen on the results, personally.

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An Unconscionable Addiction – Part 4

May 21, 2009 16 Comments

Love Takes Balls

These are my concluding thoughts to a series of posts that begin here.

I believe that I am incapable of executing my life without the presence of sin. What I mean is, I feel as though a universal code of conduct exists that creates peace within me when I follow it and creates distress within me when I do not. Furthermore, I have projected this belief about myself onto all people. Onto you, even. It is accurate to suggest that it forms a load bearing wall in my worldview.

One of the things I respect about the Christians is that they are acutely sensitive to the tension between justice and mercy. Because of their belief in the “sinful nature” of all men, including themselves, this issue gets more than mere depthless, fleeting consideration. This tension is thoroughly pillaged and crops are routinely harvested. It should be noted, however, that it can look foolish to the rest of the world if they happen to peek in during the sowing season.

One of these crops is compassion.

Right now you’re probably thinking that I’m talking about the compassion that you, and I mean you specifically, feel on a regular basis. But I am not. Oh sure, some of you know what I mean, but I’d wager that the rest of you are clueless now in exactly the same way that I was clueless before. The kind of compassion I’m talking about does not tug at your heart and captivate your attention. It is not the soft compassion reserved for poverty-stricken orphans or leukemia patients or quadriplegics. No, the compassion I’m talking about smells like beer and hasn’t shaved in weeks. It is hard and calloused and abrasive to your sensibilities. If you don’t look for it, you will not find it.

Some of the most rewarding experiences available to us in this life will not come naturally. They will carry risk and have personal cost. Pardon me for a moment while I talk to my children.

Sydney and Savannah:

As you make your way through this life I hope you recognize two forms of compassion exist. The first kind will seek you out unexpectedly and come easy to your heart, the second is the kind you have to seek out for yourself and work for once you’ve found it. I believe that if you feed either of these they will grow and if you starve them they will wither. I also believe that the greater of these two is the one you have to earn. Inherent in the process of chasing down and working through the hard compassion is an undeniable truth. While pursuing either may afford you the opportunity to change the heart of the world, focusing on the hard compassion carries the added benefit changing the heart of you.

You can’t force yourself to feel compassion, but you can earn the privilege.

I love you both,

Daddy

Here I am, a man in his early 30s with 2 young daughters writing letters and sending books to a confessed pedophile. When I stand back and look at it in those terms I think to myself, “To whom, exactly, does this make sense?” But when I look at it the other way, my doubts scurry. The folks at Deadly Viper have a campaign called People of a Second Chance and they believe that a second chance is a human right. I’m a little divergent about the wording but I am 100% behind the spirit of the message.

Are some crimes, and consequently some people, beyond compassion? Do you believe that compassion can be earned, and if so, to what benefit or folly?

Next: My Arrest Was The Best Thing That Could Have Happened To Me

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