Growing up in a Christian home, I found myself often questioning the assumptions of religious people. I don't question religion itself. I don't question morality, virtues, and the belief in hope. I question the unquestioned assumptions blindly believed to be true.
If you think about Christianity, the life of Christ is only taught from his birth and then skips to when he is 30 years old. It's a fairly large hole in the biography...don't you think? What about his childhood? How poor was Jesus?
Jesus was born in a manger. Why? This biblical fact is taught with the implication of humble beginnings. Being born in a barn feels similar to today's situation of being born in a van. I was always lead to believe that the family of God's son was struggling through poverty.
But...consider this...
Bethlehem had no vacancies. Joseph and Mary went to sleep in a manger, NOT because they couldn't afford lodging, but because there were simply no available rooms at the town inn. Like today, some people sleep at the airport because all the hotels are booked...not because they don't have money for a room.
Also, do poor people travel? We can make the claim that someone can hitch a ride on another traveler's wagon at a discount, like taking the bus or train. Yet, these are only applicable claims for the surviving poor (today's working minimum wagers). The struggling poor do not travel. The homeless and truly impoverished have a tendency to become stationary with a constant need to peddle.
Joseph was a carpenter. He had a job, social status, and seven children. He might have been far from wealthy, but it's extremely reasonable to believe he was far from poor.
So, how poor was Jesus?
Jesus, like his earthly father, was a carpenter. Through all of his travels, there was more that he could offer than turning water into wine. Jesus could also turn wood into chairs. There was a time when Jesus was relatively unknown as Christ and had no disciples. Isn't it reasonable to believe that at some early point he likely had to rely on some of his skills as a carpenter to aid his prophetic mission?
The man even had a posse. Jesus Christ had 12 disciples. Sure, he could split bread and fish to feed a community...but how often does a healed leper have a salmon and a bushel of wheat to donate as gratitude for a bestowed miracle? Seriously...do the blind go fishing? During their travels, Jesus didn't simply walk along coastlines collecting fishers of men. The entire group likely had an accumulated wealth in order to fund their mission. I'm not insinuating that they paraded around in gold-wheeled wagons. Jesus and his disciples probably had at least a minimal amount of currency to sustain themselves. Remember...even back in their times...they asked people to volunteer 10 percent of their income to the Lord.
The problem today is how this type of questioning/reasoning effect people's religiousness. For most, my words will have me ousted as an atheist and blasphemer. That's wrong. The truth is that my words simply should have no negative inflictions on people's faith. Religious fortitude should be founded upon the love and compassion of Christ...and NOT the often implied imagery of a pauper prophet. Lessons in logic teach us that one cannot invalidate an argument by invalidating the speaker. In other words, when someone tells you to not touch a snarling lion, they don't have to be a zoologist for it to be good advice.
My problem is not with religion...it's with the way we spread it. We condition our young to believe without question, to know without reason, and to act without reflection. These are the reasons we live without the tolerance and compassion Jesus wanted of us. We live as though we fear to question rather than questioning our fears. Yet, as God tests us to take a leap of faith...it's not for us to close our eyes and jump...but rather to look clearly down into the depths of the canyon while boldly walking forward.
How Poor was Jesus?
Ruined Moments Anonymous
Moderator: Thank you everyone for coming. I'd like to welcome you all to our first meeting. We've all had special moments ruined by obnoxious people. This group was created to give us all an opportunity to share our stories and help each other put those days behind us. Staying anonymous, there's no need to introduce yourself...just tell us what happened. Who would like to go first?
[Gorgeous blond raises hand]
Moderator: Yes, you. What happened?
Blond [teary eyed, she struggles to share her story]: Well...My name was called because I won an award. I got up to accept it, and right after I started to talk...ummm....he grabbed the mic out of my hand and said, "Yo, I'm really happy for you and Imma let you finish, but Beyonce had the best video of all time."
[group disapprovingly mumbles to each other: "What a jerk." "I can't believe him." etc etc]
Blond continues: I was shocked. I couldn't even finish after he handed me the mic back. Thankfully, Beyonce won the last award for the night and gave me her stage time to finish my acceptance speech.
[group, nodding, mumbles to each other: "Thank God for Beyonce." "I like her." "She's great." etc etc]
Moderator: How awful. Thank you for sharing that. [group applauds] Yes...[points to man #1]
Man #1 [angry]: It was my wedding day. My wife looked amazing. She gracefully walked down to the alter...I took her hand from her father...and right when we began to take our vows...he just butts in, "Yo! I'm really happy for you two, and Imma let you finish, but Tom Brady's wedding was the best wedding of the year."
[group, disgusted, mumbles again: "Wow, even at someone's wedding." "How arrogant." etc etc]
Man #1 continues: I mean, he wasn't even invited!! The happiest day of my life was ruined because he's a WHORE for attention! I'm just glad Beyonce was there. When he left, she took the podium, presided over our wedding, and married us. She made it special again.
[group, cheerful, mumbles to each other: "She's just amazing." "She's beautiful and classy." "Someone's mom raised their child right." etc etc]
Moderator: Amazing. At least there's one person in this world that has respect and manners. Not everyone can say they were married by Beyonce. [group applauds]. Why don't we go with you next [points to a black man wearing a suit].
Black Man: Uh...well...uhhh...we made history. The time had come to put aside childish things. And...uhh...well...it was the day of my inauguration. I stood there ready to make my pledge, then he grabbed the mic and said, "Yo! I know you're about to bring change and I'm really happy for you, but Bill Clinton was the best commander and chief of my generation."
[group, ever more disgusted, mumbles: "He even disgraces the nation." "Unbelievable." "He even thinks Bush hates black people." etc etc]
Black Man: I tried to stay cool. And...uhh...well...Thank the nation we have Beyonce. Before giving us a great performance, she used her stage time to swear me into office. God bless her and God bless America.
[group, inspired, mumbles: "She's a true American." "I believe in Beyonce" "Yes we can." etc etc]
Moderator: Wow. Thank you Mr., ahem, umm...nevermind, this is an anonymous meeting. Ok. One more. You, over there.
Man: My wife and I were at the hospital. Nine months had passed since our honeymoon, and we were about to give birth to our first baby. I can't tell you all how excited I was. Our companies, money, all of the success with our careers...none of that mattered. This was the greatest accomplishment of our lives. The moment came, and when we got to the delivery room, he pushed aside the doctor and said, "Yo! You're about to have your first child and all, I'm really happy for you. Imma let you finish. But baby Jesus was the greatest birth of all time."
[group, fed up, mumbles to each other: "He won't even let you enjoy the birth of a child." "God, he's just too arrogant." etc etc]
Man: I was shocked. I couldn't even enjoy the arrival of my first born child. Somehow, Beyonce was in the same hospital. When I told her what happened, she let me have sex with her until she got pregnant. Because of her, I can at least look forward to another child birth.
[group approvingly mumbles to each other: “She’s an angel.” “She’s such a giving soul.” etc etc]
[As the man sits down he gets congratulatory high fives from all the other guys at the meeting.]
Moderator: Wow…well, that’s all the time we have left for this meeting. I hope that we’ve all learned that for every cloud, Beyonce’s the silver lining. Next meeting we’ll discuss when it’s too early to claim going down as the voice of a generation, of a decade.
We're All a Little Evil
We are, aren't we? There's a little devil residing in all of us that gets titillated by the roast lists, sarcasms, and embarrassing fails scattered throughout the internet. We even go as far as searching the measurements, birthdays, and bios of eye-catching lookers whom we have never and may never meet in our lives. Why? They may be celebrities, or on the path towards greater popularity, but I don't see much reason in nurturing the stalker side of our own persona.
I'm a criminal of thought for sure, but I have never gone so far as to defame someone publicly on the internet. I have certainly looked at women at parties and thought, "whoa...she's got the body of a goddess and the face of an oyster's ass." Yet, I have never deviously gone farther than confiding my opinion of a shark-toothed Fergie clone to a buddy over my shoulder. People that thrive on defiling the public image of others are horrible bottom-feeders of society with an esteem so low that they need to stand on mounds of shit to raise their heads high enough to get a look at anything. It's purely unnecessary scumbaggery that doesn't even deserve proper vocabulary to describe.
We still need a little evil though. It's the yin and yang that helps us maintain balance like the cycles of Mondays, Humpdays, to Fridays. If the internet was all bunnies and kittens, it'd be a pretty boring place. We need the bad to help us cherish the good. We need to get needled occasionally about our awful hair days to remind us not to take ourselves too seriously. But shit, let's keep it within a trusted circle of friends. After all, we only need a little evil.
@#$%@#$%
I'm in such a rotten mood. Sure, the rounds of chain smoking might alleviate some of my foul state of mind, but I'm so incredibly agitated that I doubt an entire pack of cancer sticks could completely kill this anger.
If I were to gauge the pulsating veins in my forehead, the rage-o-meter would read well over burying a puppy's face in coarse sand yet slightly under middle-finger saluting little league caravans while cutting so close into their lane the screams of terrified children would tingle small bouts of evil glee. Yes...I'm so angry it's making me wordy. I feel so enraged that my sentences are running on with nonsense...been there??
What a bullshit day... It was bright with clear blue skies, and I sat here annoyed. Fucking waste.
Live. Love. Laugh. (...whenever you can avoid the shitty fucking people that make it their fucking mission to ruin your fucking mood)
Vacation Then Life Not as Usual
My nearly forgotten love for camping was resurrected with last weekend's trip into the wilderness. Relaxing in a folding chair aside a modest river eased away the anxiety of being unplugged from the world. It was so calming that I kept dozing off despite the giggles and glee's from the childish play of twenty-something year olds.
Apparently, my friends would be damned to let a river go not damned. Despite the hilarious imagery of big children in their late twenties shoveling small boulders into unnatural positions across a river, one could easily stand in awe of their intricate work of channels and flood zones. They even blocked off pools to keep the beer cold...after all, we are adults...for the most part... Everything was playful with sprinkles of practicality.
We cleared the campsite in the typical red-eyed and exhausted fashion. Even though we looked bad and probably smelled worse, our faces were revitalized from the city-induced wrinkles. As we descended away from the fresh air of the lush mountains, my cell phone reception leaked back in and gradually replugged me into society's matrix. It didn't take long for "the message" to come in...
I came back to a hurricane of ghosts from a life once past. The inevitable day I dreaded for so many years had finally come. Some heavy decisions were crapping back onto my knotted shoulders, and I wasn't returning to life as usual.
Sometimes I spend so much time looking around life from the outside that I forget that I'm in the middle of it. It's a bad habit when someone's made the kinds of mistakes I have. I must have been pretty crazy to tout around the way I have for the last decade. At least I was never oblivious. I was never naive. I just hate the idea of another person stunting my experiences. I hate backing down.
I'm grateful for the ones that take the time to remind me of how precious and fragile life can be. But what's living if it's always on other people's terms? I've always stood my ground, and although the possibility of serious consequences has returned, I find it difficult to change my stripes. I'm not sure exactly how to continue going about my days now, but I will definitely go about treading lightly. It's not just about myself anymore.
The past few days were filled with the same serious reflection I faced a decade ago. I was forced to revisit the ups and downs of the self I hoped had finally faded. And surprisingly, I came out smiling. The optimist born through the years grew strong enough to look on the brighter side of the coin. There were tons of good times through the turbulent years. Remembering some of them with old best friends was worth the bad news.
In my heart, I sincerely feel like all is going to be okay. Yet, with all the worrying around me, I'm certainly minding my ways.
I know that reading this may be incredibly vague for most, and I apologize for not being able to divulge specifics. Hopefully there will be a day when I can and will share the details...
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