Your Story. Your voice. the best it can be.
A funny thing happened this week on Facebook. I was “outed” as a feminist. To my knowledge, that had never been a secret, but it caught some folks off guard. Apparently, their ideas about feminism clashed with their ideas about Christianity, and they couldn’t wrap their heads around someone who believes in both.
“Why don’t you go to another church?”
“Because I’m Catholic,” Harold answered.
“You’re not Catholic,” I argued, “if you don’t believe what they teach.”
Harold just smiled. “I’m Catholic.”
Harold and I were in high school, those extraordinary years of challenging our parents and forming opinions of our own. In some ways . . .
Whoever you are, right this minute, imagine that God accepts you, and that He calls you holy, pure, blameless. And not because He’s just tolerant, but because you are holy to Him. Not after you clean up. Not after you deal with some things. Right now. This minute. What would that feel like?
Israel Cohen grew up in a Jewish family, believing that Jesus is for Gentiles. He was surprised to see Jesus in his Jewish Bible.
When God first breathed life into the first human being, the first responsibility he gave that man was to take care of the earth. God gave Adam plants and trees to tend, and animals as companions, before the creation of the first woman (Genesis 2:15-22). Before allowing the earth to be populated by humans, God made sure man understood it was his responsibility to nurture and protect the earth for the coming generations.
I could not convince myself to stand in front of a group of talented strangers, and lay out my meager offering for dissection. So I didn’t. I always regretted that.
I’ll call her Grace. That’s not her real name, but she’s a real woman. Looking down, wiping tears, with her voice barely above a whisper, she told me, “I haven’t gone to church in a long time. I believe. . . but I don’t pray anymore, not since. . . well, I just feel. . . not worthy.”
My daddy taught me that polite people don’t talk politics or religion. By that measure, I’m not very polite. I blame peer pressure. Everyone’s doing it these days. My last blog—my take on the Republicans in Tampa—apparently caused reader confusion. . .
“It just happened so fast,” I said, as I walked alongside my brother last week. He stopped, turned, and looked me in the eyes. “That’s a good thing,” he answered.
Both Passover and Easter represent freedom and restoration. Remember not to get so hung up on customs that you lose the point of the faith. In a week, the holidays pass, and we’re left with the memory of how we treated (or mistreated) one another.
Your Story. Your voice. the best it can be.
A personal blog by John Parsons, author of the Hebrew for Christians web site.
Your Story. Your voice. the best it can be.
Your Story. Your voice. the best it can be.
Your Story. Your voice. the best it can be.
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