Month: April 2018

On the Eve of a Birth

Published by mhelbert on April 15, 2018

It’s a dangerous thing to allow my mind to wander.
I never know exactly where I will end up.
Friday morning, on the eve of my birthday,
my mind found its way through the fog and the brush to a memory.
For those of you who know me, you know that I was put up for adoption way back when.
At 6 months I landed in a loving home with proud Mom and Dad doting on me.
To their credit they never withheld the fact that I had been adopted.
And, I didn’t think twice about it. They were my parents. The only parents that I knew.
That all changed in the 1980s when I found that I had a sister from my birth Mother.
Now, I had a name and a face for that woman who had birthed me into this world.
Over the years we drifted apart. She was never “mom” to me. I already had one of those.
But, from time to time I wonder.
This is a result of that ‘wondering.’

63 years ago…

I wonder what She was thinking and feeling.

Her belly, full o’baby boy!

Had Her parents driven into Her mind that there was no way that I could exist in their world?

Was I already a non-person to them?

Had it been legal, would I have simply been washed away like so much detritus?

Yeah, I think so.

But, Her?

I think that Her anger and grief became the wind beneath the wings that delivered Her

To another world.

A world where She could have Her heart’s desire.

But not here.

Not where She had been coerced into agonizing loss.

How could She give Her son away?

In Her world Reality was a small bubble.

Within its protective shield She could be safe…secure.

I was ripped out of that bubble.

Torn away; kidnapped; sent to Mars.

She could not protect me.

It’s really no wonder that we both wage war against alcohol.

Now, 63 years later,

On the eve of my birth,

I don’t even know if She has died.

Or, perhaps, She never will.

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Saturday Musings: I Wonder…

Published by mhelbert on April 14, 2018

The word, “wonder,” is a wonderfully wondrous word.

I wonder about the wonder of this wonderful creation!

I read that Tiggers are wonderful, yes, they are a wonderful thing!

I wonder how people can think that Wonder Bread is wonderful.

I once found myself wonderfully immersed in Wonder at seeing the wonder-inspiring Aurora Borealis.

There are wonderfully, wondrous wonders that we may wander to and wonder about.

Sometimes I wonder things too wondrous for my wonderfully wrought mind.

Did God “wonder” us into being?

Or, did we, in our wondering, “wonder” God?

I wonder………

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Un-Raptured

Published by mhelbert on April 13, 2018

(The Cross of lorraine)

Well! We made it!

I must give you credit for staying with me through all nine previous posts. I hope that I didn’t ramble too much. I have strong feelings about this topic. I wanted to make a case for an alternative interpretation of the Biblical text. A case that is based on gleaning from the text what the original writers may have intended within the social and religious context of their own time. Not what someone in the nineteenth century may have wanted the text to say. And, especially not what folks in the present day want it to say. Words that were written to encourage people in the early days of the Christian church have been turned into weapons to inspire fear in people, and thereby, control them.

The name of this blog is Breaking the Chains that Bind. This false doctrine of a so-called ‘Rapture’ is a chain that needs to be broken.

If people are going to be truly free, they must be free from fear. I have heard countless stories of people who now suffer from forms of PTSD because of how the rapture has been presented to them.

How is that even a thing?!?

Where is the love of Christ in this?

Didn’t one writer say that there is no fear in Christ? In fact, love in this context casts out all fear!!!

The whole of Rapture theology does NOT pass the smell test. It is foul! It is hateful! IT IS WRONG!

We as a species have always tried to figure out who is a member of our tribe and who isn’t. Perhaps that need is hard coded into our DNA. Perhaps somewhere in our distant past that particular knowledge was necessary for our survival. Our ancient ancestors may have only survived by putting up defenses against some ‘other’ that could destroy them. I don’t know. But, it is plausible.

Somehow over the millenia, as the outside dangers were tamed or defeated, that need diminished. However, the code was still operating. It wasn’t somehow ‘commented out.’ Without the threats from outside, we developed and perceived threats from the inside. Those who didn’t look exactly like us. Or, who didn’t speak like us. Or, who didn’t believe in the same gods as we did. These became the ‘others’ that we excluded and tried to destroy.

For the last two millenia the Christian Church has allowed that code to run unchecked. In fact, I think that the Church has tweeked the code to near perfection. She has built walls. “But, we must protect the faith from the faithless!” she cries. In reality, she has hoarded the goodness of the Divine and built walls to keep all others away from it. She has become, in many ways, faithless herself.

The doctrine of the rapture is one part of that wall. It has no other purpose than to define who is ‘In’ over against who is ‘out.’ It manipulates people by grabbing them by the emotions and driving them like cattle using the prod of fear to achieve their own end. And, that end is control. The proponents of rapture theology coerce and control by fear. Fear of being ‘left behind.’ Fear of all ‘others.’ Fear of an angry and vengeful god.

Rapture thought also paints the world and the cosmos as an enemy. All things that are not aligned to make people believe in the small, vindictive god of these people must by necessity be evil. They must run their evil course to its evil end where their evilness will be finally put to the evil end that only evil deserves. The earth, society, cultures…these are all part of that evil world. So, they look at all things that are not part of their small pitiful faith with uncaring disdain. “Climate change? If it’s real, (and, we doubt that), so what? The rapture is coming, then the end of the world. Who cares about it? Or, who cares about war or famine or natural disasters? These are all simply precursors of the end of this evil world. We’re gonna fly home to heaven! To hell with everything and everyone else!”

Folks, there will be no rapture. The ‘elect,’ (whatever that means), are not going to fly away to some heavenly bliss. The earth is not going to be thrown into chaos and turmoil controlled by some person called Anti-Christ. This earth is has been around for about 4 billion years. It’s going to be around for quite a few more.

Ok, so what?

If the dispensationalists have it all wrong, (they do), what is an alternative? If we don’t live with our eye on the end of this age, how should we live?

The apostle Paul spoke about keeping our ‘eyes on the prize.’ That prize was eternal life, salvation, a life well-lived caring for others. It was a life that bore fruit. Fruit like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

This life. Right here. Right now. We only get this one chance to make a positive difference. We can only offer comfort to the homeless, the poor, the sick and infirm, the immigrant, the indigenous, the Muslim or Hindu or Buddhist for as long as we have the gift of breath and life. After that? Our days of making a difference will be past.

Jesus taught his friends that the Kingdom of God was at hand. It was breaking into present reality. This kingdom was not some far off place that could only be found in some heavenly, non-corporeal reality. This kingdom was NOW! The imperative for people to live in that kingdom has not diminished over time. If we are going to follow Jesus, who has become King, then we’ve got to live like it. And that does NOT mean ignoring the present. It cannot mean ignoring the needs of ALL others. It does NOT mean destroying our planet.

It does mean that we must be ALL inclusive of others. We must care for our home. We absolutely must be grounded in the here and now.

We don’t get a free pass. There’s no ‘get out of jail free’ card. Jesus didn’t come to ‘rescue’ us from the reality of this life. He came so that we could HAVE life! And, so that we may, like Jesus, give our life away so that others may have life.

Rapture theology kills. It ends love. It excludes others. It has no care for the world that God gave His only Begotten Son for. It is actively authoritarian and controlling. It seeks to amass power. It is in all ways corrupt and evil.

We are better than that. God is better than that.

Shalom.

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A Confession

Published by mhelbert on April 12, 2018

Before I publish the last part of my series on the rapture, I must confess something.

No, nothing like that! Get your mind out of the gutter!

No, this is a confession about being torn.

Last week I shared on Facebook that I was having difficulty finishing this series. I wrote that I didn’t want to be mean. I even posted a video from Buckaroo Bonzai about not being mean.

Consequently, during my quiet time with God I sat with my doubts and concerns about this. How can I present a view that is opposed to one that is popularly held without being mean? This is what I wrote in my journal…

I’m still torn. So much of American Protestantism is built on lies. The lies are not stable. They cannot stand. Yet, people cling to them and build towers on them. These people are secure in the lies. The lies are like old friends. They are comforting. They are familiar.

They are lies.

The lies must be destroyed. The buildings and structures built upon them will fail and collapse. People will get hurt. Or, worse.

Some will survive the crash. These will flounder around like fish on the beach. They will try to grasp anything that appears secure. Anything to save themselves.

So, therein lies my dilemma.

The lies need to die.

But, how to kill them without killing the people?

It would be easy if the lies caused real pain and discomfort, like a bad tooth. Then the lies could be removed, like a tooth, and comfort would be restored.

But, the lies are comforting.

There is security in the lies.

There is prosperity in the lies.

Destroying them will be painful.

I don’t want to be vindictive toward those who protect and defend the lies.

Besides, who am I to decide what a lie even is?

Am I not committing the Sin of Certainty?

Yet, that too, is a lie.

There is no Certainty.

Not for us, anyway.

Maybe for God.

No, my dilemma grows.

So I cry out, “Avi! People are being crushed and killed by the Lies! Can we not rescue them without destroying the foundations of their lives?”

Avi replied, “If the foundation is a lie, how can truth be built upon it?”

So, I write. I dig. I confront. I can do nothing else.

Whatever Happened to ‘Frankie’?

Published by mhelbert on April 9, 2018

Back in the early 1980’s I and my family began attending a small, independent evangelical church. One of those churches that seemed to spring up everywhere in those days. I had been part of the Jesus Movement of the early 70’s and had somehow navigated my way to this church. It was a good time to be a conservative believer.

During some of the church new members’ classes I was introduced to a man named Francis Schaeffer. Apparently, Schaeffer was a hero among conservative evangelicals. And, I happened to be in a class that was taught by an ardent disciple of his.

I learned that Schaeffer was something of Christian intellectual. You know, the kind of person who could rationally explain Christian doctrines. Someone who could lucidly explain ‘why we believe what we believe.’

However, at that time I was involved with the music ministry of the church. Playing guitar was more important than reading the work of some guy with long hair and a funky goatee who apparently never smiled.

Shortly before I left that church for the last time, my wife and I were invited to the home of that person who followed Schaeffer to share a meal. During the meal Schaeffer’s name came up. The pastor spoke wistfully about how Francis was a great man and defender of the faith. He then wondered whatever happened to Schaeffer’s son, Frank. He mentioned how ‘Frankie’ had once been a strong Christian like his father, but had somehow fallen away.

Truthfully, at that time I was unaware that Francis had a son. So, this person’s wistful wondering meant nothing to me.

Some years later I stumbled across a blog that Schaeffer the Younger wrote. I read a few of his posts and realized that I had found a kindred spirit! Frank had been deeply involved in the early Christian Right movement. He had rubbed elbows with some of the biggest names of that time. Jerry Falwell and James Dobson were among his associates. However, Frank became disillusioned with that movement as it became more and more political…and, hateful.

As I continued to follow Schaeffer online I realized that our lives had followed a very similar trajectory. We had both been deeply immersed in the conservative evangelical tribe. We both were in some form of leadership within that tribe. And, we both found that we could not toe that line. The entire facade that we had embraced turned to vapor in our hands. And, we both were faced with the task of finding a new path that we could follow in good conscience and in good faith.

I just finished reading Frank’s book, “Why I am an Atheist Who Believes in GOD: How to Give Love, Create Beauty and Find Peace.” As I’ve become familiar with Frank’s way of writing and speaking, it’s no surprise that he has titled the book this way. Frank does nothing half way. (Something he learned from his Mom.) If strong language is necessary to make his point, then “Atheist Who Believes in GOD” is a go!

As I read the book I found a sensitive and deeply reflective man. He was taught well by his parents. Both of them appreciated learning and the arts. Frank was steeped in European art and history. He learned how to give himself to others through the example of his parents’ work at l’Abri in Switzerland. In the community that Francis and Edith Schaeffer built, many people of diverse backgrounds and personalities found refuge. Frank’s parents took him to many cultural locations to share the art and history that formed Western culture. They shared the life and heritage that made living a worthwhile endeavor. This was the environment that molded and formed young Frank. And, I think, the hidden force that continues to move and sustain him today.

I share all of this not to advertise for Frank. He doesn’t need me for that. (Although, I do recommend his work.) Nor, do I want to dismiss the conservative culture, the dust of which we have both shaken off of our shoes. I simply want to point to a man who has grown and matured into someone that I think that I could be friends with. Someone who seems to be working on coming to terms with himself and God in a healthy and fruitful way.

So, I want to conclude by saying, “Hey! Jim! I found out what happened to Frankie! He’s alive and well and living a life that makes Jesus smile!”