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Musing on The Human Condition And Other Stories

Published by mhelbert on January 16, 2025

Before I even get started I want to apologize for the condition of my previous essay. I was angry and emotional. I didn’t take time to proofread. So, the result was far below my own standards.

Sorry.

I’m still not doing great. Since I wrote that last piece another young person died. Another life cut short. It just keeps happening. Over and over and over and……..

I’m not a philosopher. Nor a true theologian. I’m just a guy whose wife tells him that he thinks too much and makes things difficult. Ok, mea culpa. That doesn’t change reality. People still suffer and people still die needlessly. If I was a theologian, (I’m not), I would probably try to explain things logically. After all, we want to have meaning in life and, especially, in death. So, I might take the road most traveled and try my hand at what is called “theodicy.” I mentioned that in the last post. In its simplest form a theodicy tries to find answers to this problem:

P1: If God is perfectly good, He must want to abolish evil.

P2: If He is unlimitedly powerful He must be able to abolish evil.

P3: But, evil exists

P4: God is either not perfectly good or He is not unlimitedly powerful.^[1]

This problem has been present ever since people decided that they needed to defend God from any kind of limits or evil. Because, you know, God needs us to defend Him. This question has been asked by those who deny that God either exists or, if God does exists He is not worthy of our veneration, let alone our worship. And, I have to agree with them. If this is the argument that we must use, the criteria necessary for faith, then they are quite correct. God is not good. In fact, God may even be evil. Or, God only exists in our imaginations.

I don’t accept that.

I do think that God is all Good. That God is, in essence, all Powerful. I also know that evil exists.

I don’t think that those theologians and philosophers, however, are asking the right questions. I’m not sure that they are starting with the correct information to form their opinions. I’m quite sure that logic won’t do the job necessary to explain why two young people have recently died.

Let me begin by stating my own starting point. Most of the folks who engage in the thought problem as I so briefly stated it begin with a literal interpretation of the Bible. They use the text as their source. So, things like the creation story or the flood story in Genesis become points that they use for their argument.

I don’t. Mostly because I don’t read the Bible as literal history. It was never intended for that. When people ask the text to hold up their arguments, they are asking it to take on too heavy a load. A load for which it was never intended to bear. What I think about the text is a matter for another time.

What I do think is that when creatures evolved to the point of self-awareness, they also became aware of God. I think at that time God was able to begin to establish relationships with these creatures. (I use “creatures” because I’m not convinced that Homo Sapiens was the only species to achieve self-awareness.) As humanity evolved to be the dominate species, God continued to relate to them. In ways that I don’t know, God began to make Godself known to the nascent humans.

One of the realities that came with humanity was something I refer to as “the human condition.” The Biblical writers tried to describe this, I believe, in their writings about creation and the so-called Fall. The God that was becoming known to them was benevolent and loving. Yet, they too had to reconcile a world where sickness and war and anxiety were ever present. They imagined stories of a paradisaical world when everything was good. To explain their own reality, they believed that humanity was at the center of the change from paradise to a hostile world where humans had to work hard for food and sustenance. The “Real” world. Anyway, I think that this human condition is why there is suffering and death in the world. It’s not some external thing that entered the world. It IS the world. I agree with many secularists in that the universe is not a nice place. It’s always trying to kill us. That is the nature of things. Deal with it.

If this is the starting point, then what of the questions about God’s place in all of this. First, if the creation story is just that, a story, then the earth is about 4 billion years old and the universe is over 13 billion years old. And, more importantly, God did not create evil. In fact, evil in this sense is simply the way things are. Neither good nor evil. Just reality. So, when folks start asking the question, Why does God allow evil? I reply, “What evil.” What is it that they think God is allowing? If the Human Condition simply is the reality of things, how can we label it evil? To do that they need to define “good” as opposed to reality. I don’t know about you, but that hurts my brain. I can’t do the mental gymnastics needed to set reality against some human definitions of good and evil.

I know. I’m rambling like a crazy person. Maybe I am. That, too, is reality. But, I wanted to begin to draw an alternative picture. A picture in which the world is the way it is because, well, it’s the way it is. Humanity, too, is simply the place where the “Human Condition” exists. Good? Evil? I don’t know. Like I wrote above, I’m not sure that those descriptors are even valid. They are simply human constructs used to describe the world.

I promise that I’m going somewhere with all of this. It may take a few more posts to work it all out. Sometimes I don’t know what I think until I get it out. I’m thinking while I’m writing.

I look forward to hearing some of your thoughts. Lord knows I’m not all that smart. And, I surely don’t have any inkling of what the actual reality of the world is. I only see my small corner. For better or worse, I’m sharing that.

^[1] John Hick, Evil and the God of Love (Norfolk, England: Lowe and Brydone, 1975), p.5.

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Why This Unnecessary Death? I Don’t Know.

Published by mhelbert on January 9, 2025

I’m getting too old for this shit. I really am. I’ve seen too much needless death in my life.
Recently, I heard about a young woman who took her own life. Another person, family, destroyed. How long? How long must we sit by and watch hopeless people suffer in silence; loneliness? Is no one taking notice?
Yeah, there are people and organizations dedicated to helping people who reach out to them. That’s a wonderful thing for people to give themselves to. Trying to give hope to the hopeless. And, the discussions that have begun over the last few years about mental health are good. It’s sad that it seems that a mass shooting is the only way that these concerns are raised.
But, it’s too little. The issue is way larger than what individual people and organizations can cope. The issue isn’t just in the U.S. It’s global. From Gaza to Ukraine to China to Guatemala, people suffer and die. Needlessly.
What can we do? Isn’t there a way to fix this? If God exists, why don’t we see some kind of Divine Intervention? That’s a thing called Theodicy. I might write about that some time. Or, not.
So, why this particular person? This particular death? Why am I so triggered by this single event?
Honestly, I don’t know. Lord knows that I’ve not been affected by other suicides. Not even those I’ve known personally.
Why?
Part of the reason, I think, is frustration. We try to communicate that things aren’t as bad as they may seem in this moment. Some simplistic thinkers like to say that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. These people don’t know what they’re talking about. They’ve never stepped to the brink. I have. It’s far more than a temporary solution. It seems to be the ONLY solution. For those who wonder about where’s God? I believe to this day that it had not been for divine intervention you all wouldn’t be reading my nonsense today. Again, maybe a story for another time. Maybe, not.
I’ve had the great gift of studying the Christian Bible. I’ve found that there’s a lot more to it than what any televangelist or priest or pastor or others think. I won’t bore you with details. Yet. For now, let’s just say that I see in these ancient texts people who lived lives in this world. Lives just like us. They had desires and needs. Just like us. They loved and were loved. Just like us. They worried about the same things that worry us. And, they searched for answers. Just. Like. Us.
We all desire answers to life’s problems. Don ‘t we? If you say you don’t, I want what you’re drinking. We read in the various news outlets and hear from the talking heads who presume to be experts in whatever field they live in. We try to explain a problem in such a way that we may try to find solutions. We want to fix what’s we perceive as broken.
What if we’re wrong? What if life isn’t a problem to solved? Something that we can dissemble in order to find a common root? A broken gear tooth that can be fixed simply with a new gear? Isn’t that how we all pursue life? One day; one problem at a time.
Funny how that never really works? We plug one leak, another pops up in the line. Always.
I’m not writing this to sound all doom and gloom. Trying to paint a hopeless future. I’m not. My study of Scripture and my faith have given me, well, a little glimmer of hope. A glimmer that not everyone will see even if I draw a picture. This, too, is part of the reality of life.
I spent most of the summer studying what’s called the “Sermon on the Mount.” The sermon can be found in chapters 5, 6, & 7 in the Gospel According to Matthew. Because of its position and length is the Gospel, it would appear that it’s kind of important. It contains such memorable things like the Golden Rule and the Lord’s Prayer. At least, you’d think so. But, as I’ve studied and meditated and discussed the Sermon, it’s become painfully obvious that it is also one of the most misunderstood texts in the Bible. You see, so many, (most? All?), who read it see it as a compilation of “Jesus sayings” and other material that Matthew, or someone, cobbled together to form what we read today. Their arguments are academically sound. Well, some are. The result is that when people read the Sermon today, when they preach and teach it, they break it into nice little bite sized pieces. Then they develop doctrines and dogma and interpretations based on the tiny pieces they’ve bitten off. In fact, this is how the Scriptures are handled and presented in general. So, when we read the Sermon we learn about the Poor in Spirit and the ones who Mourn or Hunger after Righteousness. We get to hear a person tout all of the properties of salt and light. They will teach us all we need to know about divorce and remarriage. Or, murder and hate. Or, worrying about what we’ll eat or wear.
What we never, or at least, very rarely hear is anything about why Jesus would say all of these thing together in the first place. Why He called His discipled up a hill in order to deliver to them these many things that have to do with life in this world.
I’m not gonna say anymore right now. I’m still angry. But, my anger is not directed at the usual suspects. It’s directed toward me. It’s directed at the “big C” Church. All of that I hope to unpack as I contemplate this more. As God sees fit to let me see. As I’m able to actually see it.

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The Nativity – Revisited

Published by mhelbert on December 16, 2024

Here’s the annual repost of my take on Jesus’ birth at Bethlehem. If you have read my blog you know that I do not hold to the whole “Away In A Manger” story. That story really has nothing at all to do with 1st Century Palestinian life. I believe that this story is a better representation of that. Read with an open heart and mind. Perhaps, we may find a greater understanding of who Jesus was and our part in His family.

The caravan moved slowly up toward Jerusalem. It had been a long journey from Galilee through Samaria. We could not travel very fast because of the young, pregnant woman. Most of the caravan stopped in Jerusalem. We, however, had a few more miles to go to get to our ancestral home of Bethlehem.

We entered the town and located the home of Joseph’s cousin. Entering, we greeted those already gathered. “Shalom! Baruch hashem Adonai!” “Peace! Bless the name of the Lord!” Unpacking our donkeys, we noticed that there were a lot of people already present. It seems that the whole clan had answered Caesar’s demand that we return for this census. Joseph helped Mary up to the living quarters while I got fodder for the donkeys. As I turned to climb the stairs I saw Joseph gesturing angrily.

“No guest room?! My wife is going to give birth at any moment! You must make room for her and the child!”

“No, we cannot. There are too many people. We cannot have one room given to her alone.”

“Wait,” one of Joseph’s aunts said. “We can fix a place for her down below. There is plenty of fresh straw. And, we can put blankets down to help make her more comfortable.”

Mary, being young and new to the family looked at Joseph and nodded. She was already suspect, being pregnant already. She did not want to give the family any more reason to look down on her.

Evening came. Mary was having contractions every few minutes. One of the aunts acted as midwife. They made Mary as comfortable as possible.

Joseph was upstairs with the rest of the family. He was pacing the floor. One cousin scolded him, “Sit down and relax! Everything will be fine. This is not the first child ever born!”

But, everyone knew that many first pregnancies did not end well. Especially, when the mother was as young as Mary. In addition, both Joseph and Mary were anxious about the child. That strange man that had appeared nine months ago had said some very strange things about this child. As the birth drew near, the young parents wondered what kind of creature was about to enter their world.

It seemed as though Mary had been laboring for hours. With a final push the child arrived. With a cry, the child took his first breath. The midwife lifted the child and tied off the umbilicus.

“It’s a boy!”

Joseph gave a sigh of relief. The others began to pour bowls of wine and a party celebrating the birth of a first-born son began. They sang and danced and drank. When Mary was cleaned up and the child wrapped in clean cloths, Joseph was summoned to come down. He looked compassionately at Mary. She was so strong and brave…no longer a child. Joseph reached into the feeding trough in which his newborn son had been laid. He picked him up.

“My son, Yeshua!”

A little later I looked up and saw a small group of people entering the house. By the staves that they were carrying I could tell that they were shepherds.

“Who let this rabble in?” I thought. Shepherds were not usually welcome among respectable people. They walked over to where the child lay sleeping.

“We were out in the field tending the sheep. Suddenly, there was a great light in the sky! We feared that something was going to take our sheep and harm us! Then, we heard a voice saying that a child had been born…here…in Bethlehem. The voice said that this child is the Messiah who we have been waiting for!”

Another shepherd spoke up saying, “Then there was a great host praising God! They gave God glory and said that peace was to reign between God and those whom God favors!”

We poured bowls of wine for the shepherds and continued to celebrate throughout the night.

However, Mary had a puzzled look on her face. She said nothing!

May God Bless you all and Merry Christmas

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Just a little vent for my friends

Published by mhelbert on July 3, 2024

With all that’s going on in our world today it’s easy to find something to bitch about, er, I mean vent about. Whether it’s the political climate that seems to be warming the world as much as the meteorological climate, or it’s the economy, stupid, there’s no drought when it comes to things for which we humans vent.
To vent is to basically let off some steam, to release pent up pressure before some catastrophic event. Like an explosion. No one likes that. Too much collateral damage. Too many pieces to clean up after. Especially if you have a stew cooking in a pot. That creates quite the mess. So it is if we don’t take time to let what’s stewing within us to release pressure. That, too, creates quite the mess.
I suppose that I could carry on all day about what it means to vent or pent. Keeping pressure pent up within ultimately leads to dreadful circumstances. Internally or externally, pressure must find a way out.
So, I guess that I should get on with it.
Tribalism is taking its toll on me. The whole ‘us’ and ‘them’ view is strangling the life out of me. It’s easy to be ‘us.’ We are the folks who know the difference between right and wrong. We are the true caretakers of (insert the topic du jour). They are misguided. They can’t see the obvious truth that’s staring them in the eye. I hear things like “those libtards are ruining the country.” Or, “ there’s darkness on the Right.”
Both sides. ALL sides! If there are sides there will be conflict.
And, I’m just sick of it.
Yeah, it’s easy to dismiss those with whom we disagree. They simply don’t know any better. Or, so we think. It’s more difficult when the disparagement flows so easily from the mouths and attitudes of members of our own tribe. As I listen to folk whom I love and respect glibly dismiss those “others” I find myself doubly hurt. This is especially true of the family of faith to which I belong. We consider ourselves to be a welcoming community. Those who are outcast in society, whether LGBTQ+ or African American or immigrants or the poor or the unhoused are welcomed with open arms. We rightfully provide a safe space for any and all who meet our definition of outcast. However, as I listen to my spiritual siblings speak of those they deem “unwelcoming,” I see the head of Medusa peering out from the shadows seeking who to glare at. I know that none of us is ever truly aware that we’re acting exactly as those whom we castigate. But, we are.
I don’t say this to simply call out the apparent hypocrisy that is exposed in those moments of careless speech. Even though it is. I say this because it bugs me. Like that miserable mosquito that keeps buzzing around my ear, I want nothing more than to squash it.
But, then, I stop to examine myself. Have I not been as guilty as anyone? Whether I can’t let go of some past hurt or present ignorance, mea culpa.
For me as a follower of Jesus that constitutes something called sin. A missing of the mark; a falling short of the glory of God. Whatever you want to call it, it’s simply playing into the base nature of humanity.
There is a better way, I’m told. The Way of the Servant. The Simple Way. The Way of the Cross. These are ways to describe our own place in the Real World. The Real World that tells us that we are better than those ‘others.’ The Real World that requires us to draw lines and live within tribal boundaries. The Real World where people live and work and play. Sorry, not sorry, but that Real World is not Real. It’s made up of our cultural ideas and identity. It’s exists in our thoughts and prayers. It keeps people on edge, or with a knife’s edge at each others’ throats. In a word, it’s false.
I’m not at all sure where to go after I finish venting. I surely have no answers for the questions that persist in our human consciousness. Mostly to our own hurt. But, I promise myself to search for that better way to a world in which we can disagree with respect. Where we don’t backbite and devour on another. For, I know that it exists; somewhere.

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Dick needed a horse. What Do You Need?

Published by mhelbert on March 1, 2024

Hope in the Dead? Shutterstock 285809015

“A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!” cried Shakespeare’s Richard III. A king desperate for something as common as a horse, is willing to give his entire kingdom away. There are several things that we can learn from this. But, this is not the time. This is the time to discuss something much more important.
What the hell is a kingdom?
It’s probably a good bet that no one reading this has ever been a subject of a king. Nor, a citizen of a kingdom. Even those who do have royal heads of state don’t live in the type of feudal world in which Richard III is cast. So, our understanding of these terms is fairly limited.
The only ‘Kings’ that we have ever had any contact with come from ancient literature, or sadly, from the Silver Screen of Hollywood. With such data we can only use our imaginations to try and construct a world where knights were bold and battle filled the air. Oh, sorry, that’s Hollywood speaking. Certainly, not the reality.
Perhaps, in our imaginary quest to realize what a king and kingdom are we can start with sovereignty. A king was a Sovereign. A simple definition would be to have “supreme power and authority.” For our kingdom in the mind, a Sovereign King would be that person who has supreme authority to rule without any outside interference. He would be a person who could assimilate the title of “Your Worship” and it would have real meaning. Any person who refused to bow in obeisance to the Sovereign could expect to learn very quickly that he was truly mistaken.
Our kingdom would likely include several vassal states. These would be lands held by people who had expressed fealty to our sovereign in homage and loyalty. They would also be expected to pick up the costs of our king. These vassals had people who actually did the work on the land. These folks are known as serfs. Serfs have no rights, no land, and no life that their lord and master did not give permission.
I know that this is an extremely simplistic view of Kings and stuff. Hey, I don’t live in a feudal culture. None of you have, either.
And, yet we do, in a way give our loyalty and obeisance to others who are not royalty. We don’t always think about this, but it’s true. Everything we do is an act of giving homage and loyalty to those we consider important, if not sovereign.
Now, the rest of this post is directed specifically to the Christian Church. To those who consider themselves followers of Jesus.
Listen up!
Jesus came to Israel and proclaimed the Gospel. “Repent! For the Kingdom of God is near!” There’s that word “Kingdom” again. He pronounced this Gospel everywhere that He went. To lepers and tax collectors. Pharisees and learned scholars all got to hear this message from the man from Nazareth.
Jesus called people to “Come! Follow me!” And, they did. Leaving hearth, home, and lives they set out on the road with Jesus in order to join Him in that same proclamation, “Repent! For the Kingdom of God is near!” These people even thought that they would join Jesus in ruling this new kingdom. Two of his followers even enlisted their mom to ask Jesus if her two sons could sit on His right and left. These were positions of power in any kingdom.
There was just one catch to all of this. Jesus mentioned that little bump in the road to this new kingdom. He told the Roman prelate, Pontius Pilate that if Jesus was a king, that kingdom was not of this world.
What?! A kingdom with no land? No palace where the vassals and other subservient subjects could come to grovel at the king’s feet? NO TREASURY?!?!?
Well, yeah, that’s pretty much the definition of a Kingdom not of this world. Isn’t it?
But, YOU have made it about a kingdom of this world! You have put your trust in human leaders; their so-called power; their riches and treasures! From the earliest days of God’s kingdom revealed in the people who followed Jesus, you have sought to make peace with the ways of these kingdoms of men. You codified it under the banner of Constantine. And, you have made it your sworn duty and calling to subject all who you encounter to your false king and god. For, if you say that you are members of god’s kingdom and serve those who are Not god, are you not idolaters?
John the Seer wrote to a church that was in the city of Laodicea. He wrote, “You say, ‘I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.’ You do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.” That is what the Church has become. And, the sad part is that you don’t even realize your poverty. For, you have given up the glory of God’s promise in order to eat the slop that this world’s ways offer you.
John also offered hope to those at Laodicea. He encouraged them to seek the true gold and the true riches that are found only in the kingdom in which God is sovereign. He asked them to change the direction of their hope from the kingdoms of this world. Their hearts and minds needed a new object of trust. For, this world offers nothing but smoke and mirrors. Dust blowing in the wind.
I know that this isn’t a typical blog post from me. But, it is what I had to say. I don’t want to leave on a down note. That’s not my way, not is it God’s. God is nothing if not a God of Hope. If my words offend you, well, ok. But, I rather hope that they may cause some to pause and reflect on where their true hope and life are found. In the kingdoms of folks like Richard III? Or, in the One Kingdom that entered this world with the voice of a lone Galilean, “Repent! For the Kingdom of God is near!”

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Brides and Ashes. It’s Lent.

Published by mhelbert on February 14, 2024

Today is Ash Wednesday. In the Christian liturgical calendar this is the beginning of forty days of fasting and reflection called Lent.
Now, I grew up in a nominal Christmas & Easter protestant home. Ash Wednesday and Lent weren’t even on our radar. I remember in elementary school seeing some of my classmates come to school with black stuff on their foreheads. When I asked, they said it was for Ash Wednesday. It was a Catholic thing. For us, Catholics were already weird. No meat on Fridays, church every Sunday, and now, dirty foreheads. Being protestant I had no clue what that was all about. But, I was glad that I didn’t have to do all of that. Sheesh!
It wasn’t really until I was a teen that I began to understand the history and tradition of this Lenten season. Even then, though, it wasn’t something that I observed. My whole time in the world of religious Fundagelicalism didn’t change that. Some years one of the leaders would offer a Lenten devotional for anyone who was moved to follow it.
Ash Wednesday and Lent simply weren’t important. They still aren’t in many traditions.
And, that’s sad.
We put so much effort into celebrating Christmas. I guess that’s understandable. Who doesn’t like a birthday party and babies? Amiright? Madison Ave. saw Christmas and great big silver and gold dollar signs danced in their heads. You can’t pitch a crucified guy like that. What are they gonna sell, Stigmata suits and crowns of thorns?
Now, however, I am part of a tradition that does embrace Lent. After all, the Resurrection we celebrate at the end of these 40 days is kinda important.
I wrote about this today in my journal. I mentioned Lent as something that we celebrate. Now, I know a lot of folks may push back on Lent being a celebration. “No, we OBSERVE Lent!” Yeah, I get it. Lent is supposed to be all about repenting and introspection. That doesn’t sound too celebratory. But, hear me out.
The Bible uses a lot of Wedding imagery when it comes to speaking about the Church. The Church is called the Bride of Christ. We read about the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. Lent, in a way, is the preparation of the Bride of Christ to meet her Bridegroom on Easter. During this time we spend time cleansing ourselves in preparation. Yeah, the theological word for that is repentance. But, that simply means to turn away from the grit and grime that collects on us throughout the year. There are other forms of penance that may be followed. But, the point is, to be clean and ready for the Bridegroom. We may prepare our gown and get our hair done and buy new shoes and all of that. That may entail following a Lenten devotional or fasting. Spiritual practices that prepare us, mind and heart, for the Resurrection of Messiah Jesus.
All of this is celebratory. We prepare, not with heaviness in our hearts, but with the joy of anticipation.
“He’s coming!” cries the watcher on the wall. “He’s coming and He’s bearing gifts for His beloved! Prepare the Bride!”
That’s what Ash Wednesday and Lent are really about.
Let’s take time to reflect on this in 2024 as we enter the Lenten season.
Anticipation.
Preparation.
Bated breath.
Coming Joy!

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We Can Never Go Back, But Maybe Forward Is OK

Published by mhelbert on February 12, 2024

I chose Woody Woodpecker because, well, IT’S WOODY FREAKIN’ WOODPECKER!

Recently, my family took a trip to Universal, Orlando. I really didn’t want to go to Florida, but the trip was already booked and paid for. We did have a good time. Although, the weather was cool and cloudy by Florida standards. With my Ohio blood I wore shorts and tees most of the time. Fifty degrees is plenty warm enough to stand in lines for hours.
The trip was pleasant. It was really good to spend time with our adult kids. We haven’t done a “family vacation” for almost 20 years. We rode rides and ate way too much. The Volcano Nachos at Margaritaville were great!
On our way home, my wife and I had the pleasant opportunity to stop and visit some old friends who had moved out of state a bunch of years ago. Since they live close to the route we drove, it seemed like a good thing to catch up. It was good. Much has changed, besides our age. We’re all a little grayer and more wrinkled.
Physical appearances weren’t the only things that changed. Our worldviews and outlooks on life have, well, I guess you could say matured.
We all came out of the same Fundagelical milieu that I’ve written about before. We were all deeply affected by that world. We all have, somehow, escaped from there. We had various forms of leadership within the closed box that we helped to build. Our story goes back to the very beginning. To that time in the early 1970’s Jesus Movement. Yeah, we had some things to talk about.
I’ve written about how that world is extremely authoritarian. Yeah, we built that. The ‘church’ we built was, in a word, cultish. And, above all, we were certain that everything that we did was God’s will and, therefore, RIGHT! We couldn’t even conceive of our being wrong. We were building God’s Kingdom on earth. While at the same time, preparing to evacuate the world when the Rapture took us all to some disembodied heavenly bliss. Yeah, I know, good stuff!
Part of our main focus became our families. We who were husbands had the responsibility for running a tight ship. Our wives were indoctrinated, er, encouraged to submit to their husband’s authority as head of the household. Children, of course, had no say in anything. They were taught to obey all authority.
As parents it was our prime directive to ‘raise up our children in the way of the Lord.’ Besides the obvious heavy-handed discipline we were encouraged by our leaders impart, we were also instructed to make sure that those pliable little minds were taught all of the good things that the Bible said. (Although, much of what we taught as Bible was merely our own interpretation. So, it was ‘Biblical,’ not really the Bible.)
So, when we talked about things like the so-called ‘Rapture’ we were preparing our children to totally freak out when we didn’t come home exactly when we told them we would. They were left to wonder whether the rapture had happened and they had been left behind. Hell, I had those fears as an adult! I can’t imagine what a 10 year old might think.
When a leader would expressly target young people with the threat of damnation and hell-fire if they didn’t keep there sexual purity as pure as those leaders thought it should be. Or, just as evil, to threaten that same fire if they did not make the right decision to ‘give their lives to Christ and be born again.’
There are passages in the Bible that were regularly taught as God’s own truth that truly are NSFW. Yet, we fed our children a continuous diet of this. We tried our best to indoctrinate them to the truth.
And, we failed. Miserably.
What we did to our children falls under the heading of Child Abuse. Of course, we had no idea at the time. We thought that we were offering the best of love to them. To prepare them to walk in faith. To raise those godly children to become godly adults. Yeah, not so much.
The reason that I’m even writing this is because of the fact that I see the marks of abuse in my own kids. There is distrust in anything religious. Church is a dangerous place. And, God? Well, we taught them that their parents were God’s representative in their lives. Just like the Elders and leaders of the church were God’s voice to the church. So, yeah, God’s not necessarily their bff.
As my friend and I talked that evening we tried to console ourselves by confessing that we really did try to do our best. We had no idea that what we were doing was so damaging. What could we have done differently in the cultural context in which we lived?
Actually, I think that we could have done a lot. There were red flags that were ignored. Other voices of family and friends were there for us to listen to. Yet, we ignored them as the voices of the Tempter trying to knock us off of the path to Glory.
We didn’t talk about what we might do now to try and repair the damage. We are all working on that in our own ways. But, is there something that families that were part of such cults can do as, say, reparations? Can we ever repay to our children what we stole from them? Their childhoods? Their innocence? Their trust?
The only response I have is that I know that I have changed direction. I’ve turned away from all that world has. It’s evil.
I’ve learned my own limitations. I’m no longer certain about, well, anything. I’m just a fallible meat head like so many others.
I also have learned to accept my kids for who they are. They are, in fact, whole humans who are image bearers of God. And, I love them for that.
I know that I’m rambling a lot. Maybe trying to offer this story as some sort of penance for being an asshole.
I also know that there are still people living in these religious environments where these abuses are still happening. Many more children, (and adults), are being indoctrinated to hate in the name of God. Maybe, just maybe, some of them may read this and be encouraged to walk away from the abuse.
That would be good.

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Here we are, 50 Years On

Published by mhelbert on September 28, 2023

50 years. A half century. A long time.

Last weekend the class of 1973 celebrated that milestone. A long time.

So many memories. Yet, new games. We all got the chance to play “Pin the Name on the Face.” You know, trying to put names to old and wrinkled faces. Ok, not all of them wrinkled. But all of them older and riper. It was good to see them all laughing and smiling. Like right after passing one of Jerry Briggs’ algebra tests.

On Friday afternoon we spent time decorating a “float” for the Homecoming parade on Saturday morning. I put the word “float” in quotes because it was actually a long trailer used to haul heavy machinery to worksites. They pulled it with a semi. We put some balloons and some crepe paper on it and called it a “float.”

On Friday evening we invaded local Tex/Mex and Cantina, Rico’s. While it was truly great to catch up in an informal, margarita enhanced environment, not all was joyful. A memorial was set up to honor those classmates who have walked on before us. Some faces have been part of that shrine since the beginning. Those friends who never had the opportunity to grow old with the rest of us. Some are recent additions to this Hall of Remembrance. One in particular brought tears to my eyes. A once beloved bandmate whose quick wit and humor truly blessed. He also had his demons whose claws dug deep into his soul and clung to him. But, which one of us does not have such hangers-on from hell?

Saturday brought the parade! A motley mashup of old folks riding on that “float.” It was a lot of fun. (Except for the splinters!) We got to toss candy to kids along the parade route. Most of those kids made out better than they ever will at Halloween!

Saturday night was the dinner, the Main Event. I can’t even begin to describe the emotions that ran through my heart. Yeah, we kept playing Pin the Name, but even without remembering names, it was a beautiful thing to remember the times in which we grew toward adulthood. To “feel” what I felt all those years ago. Such is the way in which our memories work.

These memories, these relationships, forged in the white-hot flames of youth are far stronger than we realize. After the pomp and circumstance of commencement, we all went our various ways. We were each a new vessel christened to sail our way through the so-called “Sea of Life.” The wind carrying us to new and exotic places. Ok, maybe not so exotic. Wherever the winds carried us, though, those old relationships formed in the days that have gone by, still remain. A little dusty, perhaps. Some may even have some pigeon doo spattered on them. But the relationships are still strong and binding.

It’s to these relationships that I pay honor. We weren’t all friends. Our varied personalities and interests always seemed to get in the way. Yet here we are. 50 years on. The bond is not broken.

I know that there is another reunion yet to come. Many more of us will adorn that Shrine of Honor to sisters and brothers who have gone on. There remains, still, that one graduation that we all will celebrate one day. And it will be an honor to walk across the stage with all of you as we receive our diplomas.

Thank you to all who worked so hard to make all of this become a reality. It was truly a blessing. I also want to thank all of you who showed up to celebrate this part of life that we all shared. Ours has not been an easy path. It may have been filled with ruts and roots, blocks and boulders. Getting here has been an ordeal. No one said getting old was easy. It is a testimony to our resilience and hope that we can share a meal and a few moments with one another yet one more time. I know that I will hang on to the memories, old and new, as I continue to wander on. And, with them, I will carry each of you with me.

Thank you!

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Myth of the Strongman. And, I Don’t Mean Hercules

Published by mhelbert on July 10, 2023

The Pillars of Hercules shutterstock_2214295633

“Hail to the Chief” is a song that the Marine Corps band plays when the President of the U.S. appears at certain functions. I guess that’s ok. Although, I really don’t like the tune. It might be better if, say, Metallica played it. I’m still waiting, though, to hear a song called, “Hail to the Senator,” or to the Congressperson. Maybe, “Hear Come Da Judge” for the Supremes? This isn’t a post about bad songs. It’s about why we Hail the Chief. It’s about why we view the President as the tippy-top point of the Power Pyramid. Not to provide an answer. Rather, to ask that question. Why do we look to that one person who holds the office of President to have the solutions to our problems? What is it within us that seems to need that One Person?

Since the 2016 election for president, there has been a lot of talk about authoritarianism in the U.S. and around the world. The last decade has seen an alarming rise in these so-called Strongmen to positions of world power. Pictures of Donald Trump with a Romanesque image of Jesus standing behind him. Other images of him with armor or weapons photoshopped in abound in certain circles. A golden image of him was actually created. He is still ‘worshiped’ in many circles as the only person who can ‘save’ America. Why?

I’ve read opinion stories, essays, blog posts, tweets, and Facebook posts from liberal and progressive folks who cry that conservatives are playing into the authoritarian hand of Trump and his people. “They’re fascists!” they scream. “This is exactly what happened in Italy when Il Duce came to power!” they warn. And I can’t see that they’re entirely wrong. Misguided nationalism mixed with religious overtones does seem to be a repeat of the same mistakes made in the last century. If you look closely, though, you can see this has been repeated century after century after century. Authoritarian strongmen have always been the populist choice. Someone who can grab the reins and Git ‘er Done!

Those who profess a more liberal point of view decry such action by conservatives. Yet, while they’re wringing their hands and crying foul, they are doing much the same. How many in our time look to President Biden for their deliverance from, say, student loan debt? (Hey, I could use some of that myself!) In the 2020 election the left was cheering just as loudly as their conservative counterparts did 4 years earlier. “Joe, Joe, he’s our man! If he can’t do it Nobody can!” I know that some of my readers may take exception to this. After all, progressives aren’t calling for armed rebellion. That’s true. It’s also not my point. My point is, no matter where we fall on the political spectrum, people tend to focus on that one person at the top who they hope can “save” them.

I’m calling this the Myth of the Strongman. If you Google that, you’ll find stuff about Hercules and maybe Samson. Different kind of strongman. It’s a myth. We may even go so far as to call it a complete falsehood. But more on that in a minute.

As I considered this another kind of societal need popped into my head. I don’t know if any of you have read René Girard’s scapegoat theory. In a nutshell, it claims that when a society finds itself in distress, they are likely to find one person or thing to focus their distress on and sacrifice it. All the pent-up emotion in the community is spent on that one act. As a result, the community fear or whatever negative emotion it was is assuaged and peace can return to them. I know, that’s way simplistic. But it is essentially accurate. We can again turn to the current news cycle to see who or what is bearing the burden of the community’s fear and wrath. The Woke left, LGBTQ+ folks, White, Christian Nationalists, teachers, politician, banks, the courts, etc., etc. ad nauseum. Someone or something must be responsible for whatever perceived mess we’re in. If we can banish these curses from the community, then peace will ensue and all will be well with the world. Of course, that’s just so much bullshit. But you get the gist.

In the Bible there are examples of both the Strongman myth and the Scapegoat. In the Law of Israel, the Torah, God told the people that on the Day of Atonement two goats would be selected. Lots would be cast. The goat that the lot for the Lord fell was sacrificed as a sin offering. For the goat that the lot fell as the scapegoat was sent alive into the wilderness because all the sins of Israel were laid on it. It had to be sent away from the community. In this way, sin was purged from the people.

Also, from the Hebrew Scripture there is the story of King Saul, the first king of Israel. As the story goes, Israel was governed by Judges who were raised up by God. These were people, men or women, on whom God’s Spirit empowered to lead and protect the community. Over time, though, the people of Israel decided that they should have a king, just like all the nations around them. They wanted a strongman who could lead them into battle and govern them. “Hey, God! Why can’t we be like everyone else? They have kings and everything. We want that, too!” God obliged them. But, as God did, he told the prophet and judge, Samuel, that the people had not reject him. They had rejected God as their source and power.

Both strongman and scapegoat have been with humans since the beginning. None are immune to it. Liberal, conservative, something in between. It seems that humanity is always looking for that which they can’t have. A savior of their own making. A victim to carry their sin away from the camp.

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To the Hidden Evangelist: Olly, Olly Oxen Free!

Published by mhelbert on April 27, 2023

Yesterday I had an experience that, truth be told, I would never have expected in a million years. That’s not hyperbole! This struck out of the blue without any warning. It left me with a crinkled brow wondering, WTF? Now, it may sound like some earth shattering event took place. Something that completely rocked my world. It wasn’t. Not by any stretch. It was a surprise, though. A scratch-your-head-and-you-head kind of surprise.
I received a piece of mail. Yeah, just an envelope with stuff inside. It was addressed to me. It looks like the sender used a home ink jet printer to address it. The return address simply stated, “Narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, few there be that find it.” That’s it. No real return address. No name. No nothing except some King James verse without any context. Inside of the envelope there was no note or letter. There was, again, nothing to identify the sender. There were simply 2 religious tracts produced by a guy named Jack Chick. Now, for those of you who don’t know, Jack Thomas Chick was a fundamentalist cartoonist who produced small comic-like tracts with some kind of pre-millenial gobbledy-gook. These were designed to instill fear into the reader that would force the reader to make a choice to follow Jesus and avoid whatever mean and hateful future awaited them.
At first, I was a bit miffed. Apparently, the sender has so much concern for my immortal soul that he/she was willing to look up my address and spend postage to send these. If you’re reading this, thanks for that. I guess. But, what initially ticked my off was that the person appears to be a coward hiding behind the veil on anonymity. Not afraid to perhaps offend someone. Yet, too afraid to stand up and be accountable.
That was my initial reaction. Then, I laughed and tossed the stuff in the recycle bin.
However, as I reflected on this I realized something.
This was me 50 years ago. Way back then, when Chick was still alive and producing his nonsense, I was that guy at the mall or at the park quietly walking up, and with shaking hands, handed Chick tracts to anyone who would accept them. Of course, we were supposed to then engage with those folks and explain to them the Four Spiritual Flaws or the Roamin’ Rode way to salvation. Because, we knew that unless these poor unbelieving heathens confessed their sins and recited the magic words that we told them to say, they would be lost to eternal flame and torment. We didn’t wait. We handed of our treasure and trusted that God would miraculously touch their hearts when they read about the coming apocalypse of the inevitable ending of their misguided life. Remember the “narrow way” thing? I put my heart into that kind of ministry. Either as a performer on stage, (again separated from real people), or dropping hate filled missives to people I thought were in the gravest of danger. I think that all of us who were caught up in that time felt like we were doing our job as true disciples of Christ. We were doing the work of the evangelist. We were the Watchmen on the wall warning the poor, ignorant, unsuspecting multitudes of the impending doom that was coming over the horizon. We were deadly serious about that work. We were also cowards who really never wanted to engage with people. So, we timidly passed out our tracts. Or, we hid them in library books so that someone might actually find it and read it. I know some that went to adult bookstores just to place the tracts in the merchandise that these ‘angels of hell’ were distributing.
So, I can sympathize with my anonymous friend. It’s hard to look someone in the eye and tell them that they are in danger of hell’s torment.
Or, it may be that, like me, this person has doubts about that. Is this truly the way things will work out? Will a Just and Righteous God actually condemn people, most of whom are completely unknowing about our God? Does this person feel a tinge of embarrassment about intruding on a complete stranger’s life? Maybe a bit of all of the above.
I have no ill feelings toward this person. I would, however, sit down for a cup of coffee and chat rather than deal with all of the cloak and dagger stuff. It’s always better to talk about things than to make untrue assumptions about others. At least, that’s what I’ve learned over the past 50 years.
If the person who sent these to me is reading this, I extend that invitation to engage. After all, didn’t Jesus tell us to love one another? I’m neither you enemy nor you mission field. If you don’t want to talk. That’s OK. I’ll continue to lift you to God in prayer. I will also ask you not to waste your postage on me. Chick tracts are by far the worst evangelistic tool ever invented. I won’t read them.

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