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image by beerboard.tv
I realize some of my socially conservative readers may not fully agree with the topic of this post, but I encourage you to read on. Beer brewing provides a metaphor for how spiritual formation, or following Jesus, gets sidetracked so easily, often without our knowledge. Enjoy the message even as you avoid the brew. For those who make home brew, you’ll quickly get the point! For those who imbibe but don’t brew, you’ll like it too!
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What’s the admission ticket to heaven? Do all get one, or just a select few? How do you obtain one of these, if you so desire? What if you don’t desire heaven as a destination? That issue has thrust itself into the conversation, with books like Rob Bell’s Love Wins, and a recent article on universalism by Ron Corson.
Bell and Corson and others suggest that in the end, all go to heaven. This short page can’t examine that issue in depth, but I do want to explore a foundational issue that we need to grasp before we reach a conclusion. Following Jesus...
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Rich began riding bikes a few years before me, on a Honda 350. I soon bought a similar one, then Rich moved up to a larger ride, the Harley Super Glide. Yeah, a few decades back. We’d rag on each other’s bikes—Rich defending Harleys, me defending Hondas. OK, once his wife thought we were ready to break out the fists, but it was a friendly rivalry. Let’s just call it spirited, OK? Much like the comparison in the pic above of a Harley and a Honda.
So when he T-boned me in Blythe, CA, it was accidental, right?
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Trout, much like the cutthroat in the pic above (by usgs.gov), have taught me much about the finer aspects of the spiritual life. Honest. Fishing for the hatchery-raised idiots in California’s roadside streams, Power Bait works well with these who don’t recognize genuine trout food. Scientific research has blended the scent trout love with a consistency that will stick on a hook, yet with no nutritive value. But I most love hiking into the backcountry to find ...
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Exceptionally low self-worth plagued my early years. In elementary school, life lost so much joy I also lost laughter for several months. In high school, primarily only the permanence of suicide kept that from being tried. In college, I learned how to gold medal in competition—with others.
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Distractions come easy, especially this time of year. The joy of picking and giving gifts. The beauty of houses extravagantly lit. The comfort of getting with family so often scattered in needed pursuit of separate lives. Congenial gatherings with friends and coworkers. All so focused on the fun of Christmas that I, at least, sometimes miss deeper truths. Not about the birth of Jesus, the wise men, the shepherds, and all. They get ample attention. But this year, another Christmas thought captivates me...
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True confession time—I admit to being a bit of a Christmas junkie. Not overly, like the house above, but the family puts up with my driving, often to a fairly distant town, hunting down great displays. The joy and good feelings of the season, the giving, the times to gather with family and friends all bring delight. Granted, the first Christmas didn’t match that.
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image by airphotona.com
Every choice changes our direction. We examine our options, weigh the cost/benefit ratio, and decide. Yet confidence in the benefit doesn’t eliminate regrets over the cost. A major part of spiritual formation flows from accepting that tension, and not allowing regrets to eat at our soul. Some of my best decisions have had the highest costs, but I don’t want to reset my life. Well, a little. But not enough.
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