Jesus · Jesus is Love · Spirituality

To Hell with Hell (an Essay on Reconstructed Afterlife Beliefs)

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

By: JANA GREENE

I don’t believe in a literal Hell anymore, and that upsets a great many people. I’ve been wanting to write this piece for a while.

I have lost friends who I would have swore were like family to me, because I threw eternal torment out of my theology. I guess they don’t want to get too attached to me here, given, well….you know.

An alarming portion of the population freaks out if you take Hell off the table. We are very attached to it by a sense of justice (and a little schadenfreude, let’s admit it,) and the concept people getting what they have coming.

And yes, I have read it all the way through. Or at least I tried to. But I’m not really a horror fan, so I mostly spent 45 years ingesting, digesting, and becoming frustrated with texts about the all-loving god who is just itching to send your heathen ass into the fiery furnace. The Old Testament always stuck in my craw, on account of the violence and such. It just didn’t line up with my Jesus (or anyone’s Jesus.)

I mean, he doesn’t WANT to send you to Hell, obviously. That would be barbaric. But you’ve left him no choice. I know that when my adult kids test me and I tell them to straighten up and fly right, I keep the fires stoked. You know, out of LOVE, and just in case they are irredeemable.

Except they are never irredeemable. None of us are.

If this is holy parenting, why do we have an understanding of love at all? If we are not to trust our own hearts, and are taught since birth that the factory settings of our hearts are corrupt and “deceitful above all things.” If we are not to “lean on our understanding,” why are we imbued with understanding? Why are we downloaded with compassion, if we are not to trust it?

What if Hell is really just our egos running the show? I feel like I’ve already been there – used the FastPass and got the proverbial t-shirt. Hell’s address is Planet Earth for most of us at one point or another. Addiction, violence, genocide, loss, grief – the things that plague us here – all of it has an expiration date. But love? That is eternal.

God is love, so then love is God; having no ability (or inclination) to fit into the boxes we design to make him more manageable. He is not restrained by ancient texts. The Holy Spirit will not be legislated. She (yep, I consider the Spirit a feminine energy, nurturing and protective) is as intimate family, and as wide as the Cosmos.

“But you can’t let people get away with half-assing Christianity,” you say. And the former cherry-picker in me would certainly agree. But I don’t have the dualism in me anymore to make following scripture to the letter appealing – or frankly – effective.

Do I believe in Christ as redeemer? Yes, I do. I believe the Universe came down in human form to have intimate understanding of our plight, and that one day, we will all share in God consciousness (which is what the “Rapture” means to me now, but that’s a blog piece for another time.) That’s some woo-woo stuff to some folks. It used to be too woo-woo for me.

But you know what else is woo-woo? But believing Jonah was swallowed by a big fish without dissolving in stomach acid, and that Noah’s Ark was a literal seaworthy vessel? Maybe not so much. (I saw a meme recently that said “God is love!” over a cartoon photo of thousands of bloated bodies floating in a drowned world. That’s a hell of a sales pitch!)

Do I feel like not believing the literalness of Hell impedes my ability to do the #1 thing commanded by Jesus? No, I do not.

If anything, it has opened my soul up, which was taught to be a little stingy with grace. You know, just stingy enough to be righteous and “unyoked,” but not stingy enough to seem judgey. You can’t go spreading grace all willy-nilly everywhere! What about HELL?

To Hell with Hell.

Maybe we be less concerned about what other people have got “coming” to them in the hereafter, because maybe what they have coming is LOVE. Maybe that’s the real scandal of the Good News?

Peace be with you, friends.

Poetry

Wrinkles and Strength – a poem for midlife ladies

Photo by Edu Carvalho on Pexels.com

By: JANA GREENE

Girl, you leave that neck alone,

Did somebody tell you

before you were grown,

That our necks get crepey when we’re older,

That we lose our shine,

That we lose our smolder?

Did they warn you about the cellulite?

Did they tell you it would be a fight

To keep your value as you age?

Psh, girl..

You turn that page.

Girl, you hold your head up high,

You’ve worked a lifetime

Getting by,

“We’re getting old!”

We bitch and moan,

We gotta leave

Those negative words alone.

Be kind to yourself

About the lines on your face.

That body spawned humanity,

Show it of a little grace!

They don’t get to dictate

How our lives are spent,

Asking if the best has passed,

And where our beauty went.

We “get” to grow old

And the deeper we delve,

The more we learn

To love ourselves.

Embrace the white hair

Don’t run from it far,

It crowns you like

The queen you are,

And know your value

Show yourself love.

Your newfound confidence

It fits like a glove!

Wear bright colors,

Grow your hair,

Dance to music,

If you dare,

And rest in knowledge

That all along,

The things that gave you wrinkles

Have also made you strong.

love · Spiritual

The Messy, Glorious Business of LOVE

BY: JANA GREENE

Love is the singular thing, and absolutely everything, all at once.
All are in it and of it, imbued with this remedy.
It is the answer to whatever ails your heart.
Love is all that lives on after our Earth Suits fail.
It is fed and starved by a thousand moods, yet always nourishes.
Love lands in its feet.
It’s the only thing we were legit created to experience.
Love is like sacred oil – fragrant and dousing and scandalously generous. It leaves a film on you all of your days, and everyone in your world gets a little “oily” when you touch their lives. (Touch them lots!)
Love pisses people off when it is believed undeserved, when really people are under-served by it.
It breaks the economy of deficit, as its endless.
But even though it’s free, people seem to like hoarding it. Many enjoy rationing it, as if there was a finite supply.
As if it originated for us, by us.
As if we weren’t given it in order to pass it on.
Love is a Being.
And a Doing.
It’s an action and a sacrifice.
The feet of Love can walk through fire to get to another hurting soul, and strike up a dance to celebrate itself.
Love has wings to fly us to a place of acceptance, and roller skates with which to flee from hate in all its forms.
It’s the only thing that will ever make a dent in suffering, and the ultimate remedy for pain.
Love is all we take with us.
Spread that stuff around copiously.
God loves you and so do I. ❤️

Christianity · Grace · Spiritual

Love Swings Harder

distresstolerance

By:Jana Greene

“Persuasion confirms confident expectation and proves the unseen world to be more real than the seen. Faith celebrates as certain what hope visualizes as future.” – Hebrews 11:1 (The Mirror Bible translation)

Can I just take a minute to appreciate the beauty of that verse? Faith celebrates as certain what hope visualizes as future. MIND BLOWN.

There doesn’t seem to be a glut of things to celebrate right now.

I was turbo-thumb scrolling through Facebook chuckling at goofy cats wearing hats and babies teaching each other to walk, and then.. a trickle of posts from news agencies. Lives of yet more law enforcement officers were taken in Baton Rouge, and oh my dear Lord, what is happening to us?

Oh no. Please God, no.

I’m ashamed to say I haven’t even tuned in for live coverage yet. Much like the grounds of my beloved hometown of Houston, my ground is saturated. My spirit is just saturated. I can’t take one more sad thing. Storm after storm have filled the ground and there’s nowhere for the runoff to go. I know we are all hurting. We are all just trying to doggy paddle in the flood of awfulness right now.

The past few weeks have been an abysmally horrible example of what people of a godless world can inflict upon each other. Does blood mean NOTHING to us anymore?

In between tragedies and murders, there have been tides of goodwill and love between fellow men. Each tragedy followed by an outpouring of people helping one another, followed by another blow, followed by good people acting, followed by more blood in the street….Each time Grace gets on her feet, she is assaulted with another hard swing. But like a boxing match between Hatred and Grace, Grace is getting its ass kicked.

Or so it seems.

But still …

I keep thinking of the end of Jesus’s last day on earth, and how terrified the disciples must have been when the sky turned black and their One True Hope died just like a regular guy. Can you imagine?  Talk about feeling like God has left the building!  There was even an earthquake as His Spirit ascended, but from the human viewpoint, it just looked like the world was ending.

It just looked like doom.

That’s what it feels like to me now.

Blood means everything, and is the only way anything matters. The darkening sky had to happen; It had to happen for love to swing harder. Blood and disaster ushered in hope for the whole of mankind.

I guess faith isn’t about not questioning, because any sane person is doubting and questioning right now. I know I am – big time. Just being honest.

In spite of everything, I believe we are on this planet right now because God deemed us fit to thrive in it for His sake. Not just survive – but thrive.

Even when I just want to make a blanket fort and consume multiple cartons of Haagen Dazs and wash it down with boxed chardonnay while I snuggle with my cats and listen to sad Coldplay songs so I can properly grieve the state of the Union (and the state of the world.)

Again, just being honest.

I’ve been sober a long time, but I have to tell you, I am asking God for help every single day. I need him to help me stay sober and sane.

How can love swing harder if we all stay drunk in our blanket forts? Faith celebrates as certain what hope visualizes as future.

Here’s my strategy, and it’s kind of weird but wildly helpful to me:

Each time I become despondent and feel anxiety rising,  I try to visualize the expressions on the faces of the disciples when they laid their actual EYES on the resurrected Jesus. Awe, wonder, hope sprung eternal. Doom turned to dust, death made impotent for all eternity.

Jesus was all like “TA DAAA!”

And “What part of ‘I’m coming back’ don’t you understand?”

And “I love you! Go now and love on everybody else.”

That’s how I’m coping and staying sober – striving toward the day Hatred doesn’t get the last swing, the day evil gets its ass kicked forevermore. Leaning INTO a loving Father whose heart is breaking for the way His kids are treating one another.

And trying to honor the One True Hope – and be the best ambassador for Him that I can.

When it looks like doom, stand on this saturated ground with me, and keep proclaiming who we KNOW God to be. By grace, love wins. This broken world needs to know it.

God bless us EVERY one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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