Well, you WERE beautiful
Folks, I’m sorry, but when you skin is orange, I think it’s time to get out of the sun. Pick up video games or knitting or something that doesn’t require you to cook yourself.
Entries Tagged as 'Rant Day'
Yellow spider, yellow leaf
As of this minute, it is officially spring.
“You made this world to look so nice. I wonder what the next one looks like.”
Happy (late) Reformation Day!
Thanks to Cara for reminding me. <3 you, Hon.
Martin Luther’s Disputation on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences
P.S. Halloween is geigh.
HAPPY…oh, wait.
So I missed Rant Day. Blah. Oh well. I was working. Yes, you heard me right. I was working. And not with food. Greasy, heavy, cold metal and dangerous power tools.
Sweet.
We’ll move on from here
Well, once again, rant day has come and, as in the old’n days, I have found myself completely unprepared. Nothing to write. However, I am a Blog Mad member. “What’s Blog Mad?” you ask. No you don’t, because you don’t care. So I’m not telling you. Suffice it to say, in the course of my membership there, I have found many many blogs worth reading. Some I read daily, others whenever I have absolutely nothing better to do.
While scouring the web for anything new to read that was not about Baseball, Iraq, kittens, Lebanon, or someone’s nasty breakfast, I came across a blog that every Christian should subscribe to. Cerulean Sanctum is a blog created by a man named Dan Edelen. Now, I have only briefly skimmed through Dan’s older posts; but I am utterly convinced that the man is a prophet.
That, however, is not the concern of this rant. Dan posted concerning the chopping and subsequent raping of the Bible. In his post, Chapter, Verse Blog, Dan goes on about the way cut and paste reading and wielding of the Bible causes a Rock, Paper, Scissors style circle of contradicting heresy. He then cites Pagan Christianity: The Origins of Our Modern Church Practices and The Untold Story of the New Testament Church in a short excerpt that everyone should read titled The Bible is not a Jigsaw Puzzle. The excerpt is basically the same sort of Atomic Mind Bomb that Dan’s post is, but from a different perspective.
Still, none of what I have said so far is what this rant is about. So I’ll, as our old friend Monty would say, “Get on with it!” Throughout history, well-meaning people have said and done things which were taken to the extreme by their followers and made into foundational principles which, in turn, were made into platforms for revolution and reformation. Those platforms were then taken by the followers of those first followers and were made absolute and sovereign law, designating all aspects of reality. These people even went so far as to use said platforms to redefine their own sources.
We can take a look at many examples. The Pentecostals, who took a movement to readmit truth into the church and made a church out of it or the Roman Catholics, who decided that order and purpose were best served cold with a side of stagnation and a tall glass of self righteousness on the rocks. Teachers spoke of the brotherhood of humanity prompting African Americans to a black supremacist since of brotherhood. One called Anointed spoke of perpetual forgiveness and the honor that is in martyrdom. His followers wasted no time in throwing themselves in the face of death and had to be reprimanded by one of their most popular leaders just be convinced to live. YHWH tells His people of His plan for them and they begin to worship the plan and ignore Him altogether.
What can we take from this? Stop basing your lives on wacked out philosophies! Sure, these philosophies are, for the most part, based on valid premises. Then take those premises! If I presented you with the best three course meal you ever had, you might like it. If I presented portions of the ingredients all blended together as one meal, you would gag at its very sight. So it is with the blasphemy spewing from the pulpit like vomit from a hung over freshman. And I do gag. Church, camp, TBN, friends, books, I don’t care.
The worst part is not that these heresies exist. It is not even that people believe them. That most of the western world believe them is not even the most sickening aspect. No. It is that these beliefs have engrained themselves so deeply in our culture and in our doctrines and in our philosophies that people actually consider the beliefs a part of themselves. Oh, they would not admit it. Nor do they even realize it. They have been brainwashed so completely that they consider an attack on these doctrines an attack on their very being.
So where are the few and the proud left? What can those who read the Bible with, at the risk of sounding cliché and New Age, an open mind do? Pretty much, we can complain. Complain and hope someone listens. We could try preaching the truth, but we live in a very majority rules culture. No one listens to the minority. After all, a prophet is not without honor but in His own country and among his own brethren.
Don’t forget to read Chapter, Verse Blog and The Bible is not a Jigsaw Puzzle. Bottom line, if you believe that the Bible is the word of God, either in part or in whole, you must read.
MAS Appeal [Happy Rant Day!]
Well, it’s rant day, so I figured I would give you all a rant. Such would seem to be a natural decision; no? My rant is in the form of a poem that I wrote earlier this week titled MAS Appeal. Enjoy
MAS Appeal
So many spines from which to unplug wires. So many batteries to amputate and hearts to reinsert. So many eyes to open. So many dead to awaken. Can it even be done?
She is uncharted territory. Yet the acid rains of popular doctrine have fallen on her, propagating blasphemous poison into her precious soil. She soaks up every bit. Her soil, soft and easily permeated. Her trees’ roots, willing to leave no mineral unsiphoned. Fortunately, it seems that her trees have not had enough exposure to clear weather, hot sun, sky free from the “protection” of thick dark clouds. Their roots have failed to take hold and their branches have failed to grow. This would seem to make light my job of administering the anecdote to lies. The only problem is that I am allergic to rain water. And in her world, it rains all day.
She is an untainted canvas. Burned by the light of those so high above her, darkened a bit, but still quite workable when faced with the brush of a skilled artist. There she stands high on her easel, taunting me, calling. She calls, “Come and make something. Draw something. Something. Anything.” Every aspect of me is dying to acquiesce, but it seems that she only exists to tease. I am to see her only in passing, to admire her simple elegant beauty, the potential she possesses to be a great work, only to return again when I have forgotten my zeal and to have my passions reignited, reawakening dreams which, I fear, will never be realized. For I am allergic to the sun. And there she stands, slowly but surely burning away.