The days that make
no sense.
The icicles that form
a cage, the bird that
sings therein.
The kind words and a
helping hand.
The last of the
melting snow which
has only just begun.
The footprints
thereon that look like
chromosomes.

I've been reading some article on Bishop Spong that completely misses the point about what Spong's said for years.

Spong is a post-theist, which is often mistaken for atheist. When Spong says there is no God, he isn't disavowing that there's something divine or not, he's saying that we're making the horrible, horrible mistake of mistaking a map to a place for the place itself. Some would insist, for example, that the waters of a given lake are blue, because the map draws the lake in blue - even though the water itself is a gentle green. Bibliolaters, in the view of the post-theists, have taken the view of interpreting literally what is meant to be taken for what it is: signposts on a journey.

Spong says a lot of things I don't agree with. He denies, for example, the divinity and sacrifice of Jesus.

But some of the things he says are spot-on. The article in question was something like "priest shocks world to core by admitting that Hell doesn't really exist." Not quite. What Spong said was was that the Dante-infused notions of horned men poking people with pitchforks or the weird Hieronymous Bosch paintings of skewered people was not in fact Biblical - Hell being a place of punishment not punishing, and so forth. But that this medieval notion of an eternal Inquisition style torture chamber was something invented by the Church to rule by fear and not by grace. This is also true.

I'm waiting for Christianity to take a step back from the position it's gotten itself into, and revitalize itself as what it actualy was: an attempt by the power that runs this universe for good to instill the virtues of charity and forgiveness on the people walking the planet.

 

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