On the Corruption of Marriage and Why the Church is Responsible

Everyone knows the scenario.  Guy loves girl.  Girl loves guy.  Guy takes girl to an incredibly romantic spot.  Say a mountaintop or the restaurant where they had their first date (guys with foresight made it somewhere special).  There they have a wonderful evening with chocolate and wine (or sparkling grape juice), and then it happens.  The guy gets down on one knee, pulls out the ring that is way too expensive for him to afford, and then says the words every girl wants to her:  “Will you enter into a legally binding but stable relationship?”

“Yes!” the girl replies, “Yes, I want to take your last name and some tax breaks with it!”

 

Ok, that is not exactly how it goes, but it might as well.  Nowadays, “marriage” is little more than that.  Rarely in the United States are there marriages for property, and few people are really that desperately worried about their family name living on.  The best reason to get married, outside of tax breaks, seems to be to provide a stable environment for raising children.  But modern day couples are even challenging that reasoning, preferring to have kids before or without marriage.

This article is about gay marriage.  The Church is in an uproar about gay marriage.  A lot of people are not even that upset with gay people in general, but they just do not like gay people being married.  They can live together and act like they are married, but the word, “marriage,” is reserved for heterosexual couples.  That seems to be their only requirement.

I am tempted to give up the fight and support gay marriage.  Part of me wants to say, “Let them get married.  After all, if it acts like a duck, talks like a duck, gets tax breaks like a duck, we shouldn’t call it a goose.”  That reasoning is due, in most part, to the definition of marriage nowadays.

If people who only go to church on Easter and Christmas get married, no one cares.  If people who are clearly living in sexual sin get married, the Church still allows it.  If adamant atheists get married, nobody bats an eyelash.  Now, I am not saying we judge everyone to the point where we make decisions for them, but should not the Church have some responsibility in who gets married?  When we baptize people, we ask them questions, get their testimony, and make sure they are ready to get dunked. Why do we not do this with marriage?  The Church is ashamed of statistics that record how many baptized believers fall away, but it looks at the divorce rate as proof of the corruption of the world, not as something for which the Church is in any way responsible.  Guess what?  Most people get married in a church, and get married by an ordained preacher.  The Church approved most of these marriages that ended in divorce.

The Church is all in an uproar about the sanctity of marriage, and how the Bible defines marriage, yet how true is that?  I do not mean to say that the Bible does not say that a man and a woman should be the ones to get married, but the Church has not been the one defining marriage for quite some time.  The Church gave that responsibility to the State, and the State has defined it as has been culturally acceptable.  The majority of people in the United States are Christian, and it has been that way for some time, but that majority is shrinking.  It is now becoming more and more culturally acceptable to be homosexual*, and thus the State is considering changing the definition of marriage to fit the culture’s definition of marriage.  In this sense, the Bible only has influence as much as it can influence the culture.

The problem is that we gave the State the ability to define what we recognize in our religion.  Consider it like this:  the body of the Church is a group of baptized believers.  Once you believe, you can become baptized.  Without believing, you cannot become baptized.  Believing is a personal choice, but the Church evaluates your heart and decides if they want to be responsible for you, or if they feel that you are not ready.  Say getting baptized was a cultural phenomenon that everyone wanted to do because everyone did it.  Say if you did not do it and continued to live your life you would be looked down upon.  Then, say that in order to get baptized you needed a license from the State and had to meet requirements set by the State.  Then, say you got tax breaks for doing so.

Do you see the problem here?  The State is supposed to treat everyone equally regardless of race, religion, gender, and (in many cases) sexuality.  What they offer one group of people they cannot deny the others.  Is this how it always works?  No, of course not, but this is the goal that the State tries to head toward.  This is the ideal that they are working for.  In the above example and in an ideal State, atheists would be able to get baptized with little resistance.  The State cannot discriminate, and it can only prevent social sins and does not concern itself with sins of the mind or heart. The State, in its inherent nature, has to ignore sins of the mind or heart that may have no consequence on Earth but will in Heaven.  This is a good thing, because the State is man-made and will only exist on Earth (The Kingdom of Heaven is unlike any government on Earth).

I digress.  The point is, we have given a heavenly and religious matter to a being that exists completely in the world and is supposed to treat all religious ideas the same.  As such, I do not see gay marriage as something we can fight against.  I see it as an inevitable outcome based on a mistake the Church made a long time ago.  The sanctity of marriage has already been breached.  It has been breached by hypocritical Christians.  It has been breached by apathetic Christians.  It has been breached by adamant atheists.  In a way, homosexuals are actually late to the party.

So this is a problem, then.  What do we do?  Practically, there are not many choices.  The problem with the word, “marriage,” is that there are so many people who have such a strong connection to it without any of the religious implications.  Rather, it is the cultural implications that drive them.  So, in order to restrict the word, “marriage,” back to the religious point-of-view, one would have to anger a lot of people.  Gay marriage is, after all, not about the tax benefits, but the titles.  The word, “marriage,” is what this whole debate is about, and it is a debate that the Church is losing.

There is the “abandon ship” method that so many Christians like.  We should just abandon the nomenclature and replace it with something else.  The connotations for that word are too strong to change, so we just make a new word that has better connotations.  Already, many Christians do this.

“I don’t believe in dating.  I believe in courtship,” because using an older word for “dating” completely changes the definition.

“It’s against my relationship to have a religion.”  That does not even make sense.  Look up the word, “religion.”  See if Jesus ever prohibited that.

The worst, in my opinion (and many will disagree with me), is when people refuse to call themselves Christian and instead say something like, “Jesus is my homeboy” (Muhammad also thought highly of Jesus).

So let’s go ahead and get on this bandwagon.  I suggest abandoning the word, “marriage,” as anything but tax breaks, and instead using words like “Holy Union,” or “Matchmaking done by Jesus.”  Or we could translate something from Greek.  Us Christians love to have stuff in Greek.  It sounds legit.

 

Some of these ideas came from the following article:

http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1885190,00.html

 

*I wish to take a note and say that it is not bad that homosexual people are open about their sexual preferences.  I do think it is a sin, but homosexual people are sinners just like the rest of us.  I would rather them be honest and open than put up a façade (that is usually caused by fear of the response rather than shame of the sin).

Philosophy Joke

After a lecture by an existentialist professor on philosophy, a rationalist student came up to him. “I disagree with you immensely. Everything can be rationalized. Man has understood so much, that it is only a matter of time before we know everything. We thought that we would never figure out our body, and we did. We thought that we would never figure out our Earth, and we did. We thought that we would never figure out our creation, and we did. It is only a matter of time till we understand our entire existence.”

The professor simply replied, “That’s absurd.”

Reasons Why You Should Never, Ever, Under any Circumstance, Become Facebook Friends With Your Professor

College brings with it many exciting changes.  Classes suddenly seem to have much more relevance.  Teachers seem to be much more exciting, unburdened by the establishment.  For some of you, the fact that your mom is no longer teaching you geometry is a sudden and fascinating new development.  During this time, you may feel inclined to get to know your teachers.  You may even become acquaintances.  Over time, you may even venture to call them your “friend.”  However, there is a line that you should never, ever, under any circumstances, cross:  Facebook.

Oh, it may seem tempting.  Your professors may seem so “young” and “hip” and “groovy” that becoming Facebook friends would only seem natural.  Oh, how foolish you are.  There are a couple reasons you should never become Facebook friends with your teacher, and like those teachers who you care for so much, I will give them in bullet-point fashion.

Reason #1:  Because suddenly teachers become aware of what you are doing.

Consider this.  Remember in high school, when a big paper or project was due.  Actually, remember the week or so before.  Remember how the class would unanimously plead for an extension?  Remember how the teacher would seem so sympathetic to your cause?  Remember when you got some extra time to procrastinate because your teacher was so nice to your class after a long, stress-filled week of complete unhappiness?

When you bring Facebook into the picture that disappears.  “Oh,” your teacher asks, “You wanted some more time on that extremely large paper?  That seems completely reasonable.  Of course, I would have to take into account the several hours you spent with your friends going to Chattanooga when you could have been working.  I should also take into account the fact that you spent the entirety of Saturday wandering around taking pictures with your friends (by the way, I liked the one with the flower).  Oh, and lest we forget, I should congratulate you on your wonderful crops that you spent so much valuable time with in Farmville.”  That extension is not happening, which brings me to my next point . . .

Reason B:  Procrastination becomes public.

“Sandra is putting off this research paper.  Ugh.”  This is a simple and common stereotype for status updates.  Completely innocent.  Whenever one is procrastinating, one is usually on Facebook, and when one is procrastinating on Facebook, one must tell all their friends about it.  It is the equivalent of an unwritten rule (though I am pretty sure it is in the user agreement somewhere).  The problem, then, is some of your friends are the ones assigning the work you are procrastinating.

As a honors student myself, I understand the “Honor Façade.”  If you have ever been in an honors class, you know I am talking about.  The teachers love to think that their students are the best and brightest of the bunch, and while that may be true, they also like to think that their students got that way by studying real hard and working persistently.  Oh, this façade goes a long way toward establishing good relations with teachers and supplementing efforts to get special benefits (see extension attempt above).

Of course, this is a façade, but, at the risk that a teacher may read this, a completely true one, but one that may seem less true with status updates indicating what a student is actually doing.

Reason III:  Your professors are likely to be cooler than you are

Remember that time that three people liked your status and there were a whole seven comments on it?  Great times.  You felt popular, didn’t you?  Of course you did, and who wouldn’t?  People were paying attention to your page, and your status updates were not falling on deaf ears.  Congratulations on being one of those cool people whose status updates are witty enough to be noticed and commended by the general populace.

Just do not try to compare yourself to one of your professors.  There is a fairly high chance that not only will they have more friends than you, but also that they will be talked to and be talked about significantly more than you.  It is not all bad.  I mean, they are professors.  They are contractually obliged to be a certain level of “cool,” and perhaps those people commenting are really just long-distance supporters.  Their amount of friends is most likely due to them assigning their students to get on Facebook.  It has happened before.  They also have the advantage of former students who no longer have to worry about procrastinating in their class.  That is an unfair advantage, you say.  You just keep telling yourself that.  It might help you sleep at night (but probably not).

So, now you are probably asking yourself, “What have I done?”  You are probably wondering how you can get yourself out of such a horrible, horrible situation.  It is not so bad.  There are some options for you.

1. Quietly delete them from your friend list.  This is the easiest option, but they might notice.  They may even get offended, and offending the person controlling your grade is rarely smart.
2. Change your name and get new friends.  After all, what are 258 friends compared to a life of deception ruined by Facebook?
3. If all else fails, and if there is simply no other option that you can take, change to MySpace.  Teachers will not visit due to the loud music and bright, flashing colors.  Again, this is a last ditch effort, the equivalent of launching a gigantic nuclear bomb on Greenland, but if it must be done, it must be done.

Finally, I leave you with these parting words.  If you are a student, please try to avoid this terrible mistake at all costs.  Remember, your teachers are not as cool as you think they are, or they are a lot cooler than you want them to be.  If you are a teacher, just remember, people lie on their status updates all the time.  I do.  Like when I put, “is flying a purple elephant” right after I said, “is putting off Poly-Sci to write an article bashing teachers.”  See what I mean?

Purging

The man opened up his suitcase, dreading what was inside.  He turned the dials to the numbers, 4-3-9, and popped open the locks.  He slowly lifted the top of the case up, peering inside with all the observation of a child on Christmas morning, but lacking in all the joy.  His hands caressed the smooth outer protection as he contemplated what he was doing, what he had done.  In the suitcase was his life’s work, his crowning achievement.  There were several hundred pages of documents in there, all written by Dr. James T. Proctor.  All typed by the same hands that would soon set them free.  They were a gold mine in the scientific world, sure to supply anyone in his profession with an instant promotion and fantastic benefits.  A Nobel Peace prize was only one of the things that was assured to him.  They were sure to put him on the fast track to success.

James had not tried to make his home seem moody or foreboding, yet that is exactly what happened.  The tall ceilings that had seemed so spacious to him before now just seemed empty.  The redwood walls that once held promise now just lacked memories.  Empty picture frames hung among them, begging for fulfillment, yet receiving none.  For that reason, they connected with James in a way no other human could.  The large velvet chairs that had once seemed comfortable and inviting now just seemed lonely.  The loveseat mocked him.  The fireplace that should have been cozy and warm was now just a fire, no different from a stove or campsite.

The fireplace was the only thing that James really needed.  It was the only thing that was useful to him.  He kept his eyes fixated.  The chairs stayed empty while he sat on the ground, holding the manila folder.  The house disappeared out of existence.  The floor he sat on was real, the cursed work he held in his hands was real, and the raging fire existed, but everything else disappeared.  With all the determination it took to write such a beautifully flawed work, James set out to destroy, to burn.

The flames licked the papers before devouring them whole.  One by one, the papers left this existence.  He caught the titles of the papers as he tossed them into the fire.  “Mimicking Facial Muscles.”  “The Mechanics of the Brain.”  “Possible Synthetics for Flesh.”  “Improving Robotic Balance:  How to Walk up Stairs.”  “Artificial Intelligence (?).”

He walked down into the basement.  He opened a door.  The basement’s light had gone out, but there was enough light flooding from inside the house.  He had just thrown away all proof of his entire life’s work, all of his experiments, papers, and thesis’s were gone for good.  All his grants had been wasted; his bank accounts were depleted.  He stepped down the wooden stairs, leading to his work supplies.  He hardly went down here anymore, seeing as he worked with metal in the lab.  Still, he needed something down here.  Among the random assortment of objects in the basement, the wooden handle seemed to be a little more noticeable.  God seemed to approve.  The past 28 years of his life he had just burned.  Now for the hard part.  He grabbed an axe.

The walk up the wooden stairs seemed a little harder than the walk down.  Part of it was due to gravity, which had now become his enemy, and part of it was due to the axe, which seemed to weigh more than any axe should.  Clunk.  Clunk. The axe’s head was hitting each of the steps as James dragged it behind him.  Clunk.  Clunk. His intentions had been pure, he thought to himself.  Clunk.  Clunk. No one could blame him.  Mourning was a natural process.  Clunk.  Clunk. Many people in his scenario would wish the world was different.  Clunk.  Clunk. It was natural, he thought.  Very few people did anything about it.  Clunk.  Clunk. He did.

Ssssssssssss. The axe head was making a hissing sound as it slid across the floor.  James did not have the will to pick it up, and after all, his target (he could not call it anything else, for fear of failure) was not going anywhere.  In fact, she-

Ssssssssssss. James’ mind slipped.  Not she, it.  Not anywhere close.  He could not think of her as human.  He had made that mistake before.  He had caused that mistake.

He reached the door.  He opened it slightly.  The bedroom was empty.  He opened the door all the way, though the axe remained outside of the accursed room.  The bathroom light was on.  Its door opened.

There it was, a spitting image of beauty.  Its hair was long, shoulder-length, and bright blond.  Its eyes complimented its hair with a stunning blue.  Its nose was the very definition of cute, and would occasionally do a little small dance when she would be concentrating.  She was in her pajamas, wearing a robe, and, of all the things in the world, brushing her teeth.  He could not help himself.  She (pronouns did not matter to him anymore) temporarily disappeared and came back, teeth clean, and gave James a large kiss on the mouth.

His mind raced with recollection.  She was in the park, reading, when he saw her the first time.  The book was difficult, and her nose did the little dance that he would grow so fond of.  He had walked over, acting like he was going somewhere else, before “tripping” at her feet.  He had fallen for her.  Now she was in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen; he was wearing cologne for the first time.  She danced down the steps and away from her parents.  It was the most magical night of his life, he thought at the time.  Now she was in a much more beautiful, white dress.  He was wearing a tuxedo for the first time.  Giving up his life had never seemed more joyful.  Now she was sleeping.  The patient in the adjoining bed made a noise that woke him up, and he managed to catch her while she still had life.

Now she was sleeping peacefully.

It finished the long kiss that it had initiated.  He paused, contemplating what he must do.  He pushed it back onto the bed.  It let out a small yelp.  Ssssss. He lifted the axe above his head with newfound energy.  It screamed.  He chopped furiously, righting his unjust act.  He was not in a blind fury; he could see quite clearly what he was doing.  It died.

The bed was covered in oil.

Heart Beat

Jacob was walking in the hospital. He had forgotten why he was there. Heck, he probably never knew, yet he was here, in this hospital… with his parents. Ugh. They had already started walking down the hallway, leaving Jacob behind. They were not even paying attention (not that they usually did), but he almost missed them as they turned a corner. They were walking at a fairly brisk pace, and he practically had to skip to keep up. Jacob’s parents were unusually sad, and he noticed his father had his arm around his mother. Yet again, though, Jacob had no idea why. He had not bothered to find out, either.

Jacob and his parents had not really been on good terms. His father had never really been there, and Jacob had never tried to reach out either. When he was young, Jacob was never really a rebel, but that started to change when he began middle school. At first, it was small things. Then, gradually, Jacob began distancing himself from his parents. Then, one Sunday, Jacob decided he did not want to go to church. His dad did not like that.

“This way,” the doctor beckoned his parents. Oh great, even he wasn’t acknowledging Jacob. He quickened his pace to keep up. Suddenly his parents stopped.

“No… can’t… it.” His mom broke down. Jacob only caught a few of the words, though he could see her lips moving. Suddenly, he wondered what he was doing at this hospital.

“Honey… have… him… for… sake.” His dad was trying to be as comforting as possible. Jacob was only hearing bits and pieces of the conversation, even when he finally caught up with his parents.

“It’s… in here… on that bed… can’t bear… he’s…” She trailed off.

“Not necessarily” was the reply.

Jacob opened his mouth to say something, but then realized he had nothing to say. After all, he still had no idea what he was doing here. He figured the doctor would know something.

“Hey! Excuse me, but can you tell me what has my mom so worked up? I’m sorry, but it’s just that I have no idea what I’m doing here, and I just feel like I’m missing something. Hello? Hello! Are you even listening?” The doctor wasn’t. “Hey, doc! I’m talking to you!”

The doctor turned around and began addressing Jacob’s parents. “We… to go ahead… I’ll explain… surrounding the accident… you can see him.” The doctor led them into a room, and Jacob managed to sneak in as well. For some reason, he felt like he was not supposed to be there.

The room was a doctor’s office, full of doctor equipment and doctor decorations. “Please, have a seat.” There were only two chairs, so Jacob let his parents take them. “I’m… be frank… Jacob…” Wait, what was going on? They were talking about him like he was not even in the room.

“Hey guys, I’m right here!”

“…suffered major trauma…”

“I said, ‘I’m right here!’”

“…heart is under serious strain…”

“I’m fine! I’m right behind you yelling in your ears!”

“… in a coma…”

“I’m conscience! Don’t listen to this whack job! What’s going on?’

Nobody answered him. The doctor finished speaking. There was a silence.

“Can… see him?”

The doctor nodded. They got up and moved into a different room. It was a patient’s room, who was hidden behind a curtain. Jacob’s parents, the doctor, and Jacob all entered, with the only sounds coming from the high ping of a steady pulse. Anticipation grew inside of Jacob. The doctor pulled back the curtain. It was Jacob.

“What… the… heck!” Jacob breathed out.

“What were you expecting? I mean, how long did it take you to figure it out?” A man was suddenly there, commenting on the situation. He was dressed in a black suit with blond, well-kept hair. He was as sharp as a razor and as slick as an ice cube.

“Figure what out?” Jacob answered.

“Oh come on! Seriously, I mean, you seriously don’t realize it?” Eccentric too. Jacob didn’t answer. “Or maybe you’re one of those people who deny it to the end.”

“I’m… dead?”

“Yes! Precisely! You are dead my friend. Deceased, rotting, dead as a doornail or whatever the kids are saying today.”

Jacob tried to grasp that concept. “I’m dead…”

“Well, not exactly. Almost. Have you ever seen Princess Bride?”

“Yea.”

“It’s nothing like that. You can’t just take a couple of pills and be ok.”

“What do I need to do then?”

The man smiled. “I’ll get to that in a sec. But first we’ll figure out how to get you out of this coma.”

“But aren’t those–“

“Sh, sh, sh… let’s ask the doctor. Good doctor, what has to happen here before poor Jacob can get out of his coma?”

The doctor and Jacob’s parents had been talking soundlessly for several minutes. Suddenly, two words from the doctor sounded out. “Heart transplant.”

“Ooooh, yes, how I do love a good heart transplant. One life for another. One death instead of another. Of course, there’s always the chance that it fails. How ironical, when two people die instead of one because one was simply feeling charitable.”

Jacob was taken back. Here he was, in a coma, after some kind of accident, and the only way he could live is if someone gave up their life for him. No one would do that.

“Well, if no one will give you their life, you could always take it.”

Wait a minute, thought Jacob. Can he read—

“Yes I can read your thoughts. Let me present you with an alternative. Yours is a rare blood type. Currently, there are no hearts that can fit you (I made sure of it). However, there is one person in this room whose heart is a perfect match for yours. Can you guess who he is?”

A light lit up Jacob’s father.

“Right you are, my boy. Now, do you think he would ever possibly give up his life to save his delinquent son’s?” the man asked, already knowing the answer.

“…No,” was the answer. Jacob was being truthful. He was, as the man had said, a delinquent son who was more an annoyance than a son to his father. Though his father was a moral man, he was also a logical one. It would not make sense for him.

“You know…” Suddenly the man was incredibly close to Jacob. “… he is an organ donor. If something were to happen to him, well, that heart would be up for grabs.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m telling you to kill your father.”

Jacob was shocked, but he couldn’t stop himself from considering what the man had said.

“Can I?”

“Not here.” Suddenly they were both in Jacob’s father’s study, where his father was writing on a piece of paper.

“No one will know. Go ahead.”

True, Jacob had never seriously considered murder for the solution to anything, but it was not really like murder. It was more like, trading one life for another. It was an exchange, not a death. Lately, his father had been quite annoying. Curfews, questions, all that jazz. In fact, he did hate his father. He didn’t realize it until he was standing in that study, but he hated his father. He hated his restrictions, his meddling, his incessant nagging. Murder, he now concluded, would be the most logical choice. Sure, his father had not been that bad when he was in elementary school… no, he had always been bad. Jacob had always hated him. This murder was a longtime coming. He had planned this many nights before. Yea, that was it. This was just the perfect opportunity.

Suddenly, Jacob had a knife in his hands.

“Do it. You’ve been planning this for a long time. Just don’t harm the heart.”

I’ll stab him in the stomach.

“Stab him in the face.”

I want to stab him in the face.

Jacob positioned himself so he could clearly see his father’s face. He fingered the knife, and hesitated, but not out of fear. He was savoring the moment. In the same action he would both end his father’s life and save his own.

His father started to cry.

“What the…?” He loosened his grip on the knife.

“Don’t pay attention to that. He had his chance. Are you really going to give up your life because your father let loose some waterworks?”

“No, he had his chance.” Jacob gripped the knife again. He tried to prepare a stab. He hesitated, out of fear.

“Do it.”

Jacob stabbed.

 

Jacob’s father said good-night to his wife. He promised to come in soon, but he had to think in his study. His wife understood, but made him promise that before anything he would ask God first. He did. Sitting in his study, he bent his head over. A prayer came out. An answer returned. He began to write. Eventually, he could not take it any more. He broke down and cried. This will be the last Jacob ever knows of me. He picked it up and held it in front of his face to get a better look. The paper rustled.

 

“What is this?” Jacob took a look at the paper that stopped his murderous act.

“Nothing, the mad thoughts of an already dead man! Ignore it!”

Jacob read it, and then he read it again. Suddenly, he was aware of all the delusions the man had fed him. He knew the truth, and for the first time in his life he realized the strength of a father’s love. He dropped the knife.

 

There was whiteness all around. The area was empty of palpable objects but full of tangible light. A lone figure stood, contemplating his situation. He was holding a photograph. He thought about his situation, the reasoning and logic (or lack thereof) of his actions. He looked at the photograph. All was well.

A blond-haired man appeared. He slid up behind the lone figure. “Do you know where you are? Have you guessed it yet?”

The lone figure replied clearly and slowly. “I have no idea where I am at the current moment.” The blond-haired man smiled. “But I do know where I’m going.”

The figure turned around, and the blond-haired man recognized him. For once, he was surprised. “You’re not supposed to be here!” The man began to walk away. Blondie followed. “Wait a minute, how about a deal?”

“How can you make a deal,” the man said, turning around, “when you have nothing to wager?”

“Isn’t there something I can get you? Anything you want, name it, and we’ll work something out.”

The man looked at the photograph. He showed it to Blondie. “I have everything I need.” He walked away, dropping the photograph. On it was the man’s last sight. A slight smile lit up Jacob’s face on the operating table.

 

Dear Jacob,

By the time you read this, I will already be deceased. I will not go into how your condition occurred (I’m sure by now you’ve heard it from many people). Rather, I want to give you some last words. Don’t, whatever you do, blame this on yourself. Trust me when I say that you did nothing to cause this. Trust me when I say that, when it came down to it, there was no decision for me.

Jacob, you are my son. Though you may deny it and rebel as much as you like, there is no changing that. You are my legacy, and I would gladly do this twice over to help you in any way. It is the duty of a father to protect his son, and the duty of a son to continue the legacy. One day, you will understand.

Please, take care of your mother. You’re the man of the house now. She’ll need help, having nearly lost a son and given up a husband. Please, I beg of you, don’t deny her comfort. Goodness knows, she has been the biggest victim of this.

If there is one thing I can leave you with, is that this was done for your benefit. Please, don’t waste it.

 

Son, I love you.

The Transitional Property as it Applies to God

Christian:  like Christ

John 10:30- “I [Jesus] and My Father are one.”

1 John 4:16- “And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.”

Now here we have an interesting set of facts.  First off, as Christians we’re supposed to be like Christ.  That’s cool.  But then Jesus says that He is God.  Now there are a lot of ways you could look at that, but we’ll save that for another entry.  Instead, for sakes of simplicity, let’s just take it at face value.  Jesus is God.  Ok, simple enough.

The we have God is love.  If you’re like me, you’ve heard this a lot.  It’s something that Sunday school teachers and televangelists pull out a lot.  “God is love, so He’ll never abandon you or forget you,” or “God is love, so He’ll never give up on you,” and so on.  Now, these are true statements and I completely agree with them, but I think the true meaning of “God is love” is lost on a lot of people.  First off, they’re not synonyms.  Take any sentence with “God” in it and replace it with “love” and more often than not that sentence will not make sense.

Instead, look at it a different way.  Say, for example, I went up to my friend and said, “Man, you are cool.”  I am not saying my friend and cool are synonyms.  Instead, I am trying to say that everything my friend does is cool.  I could’ve said, for example, that his clothes are cool, or that his voice is cool, or any number of other things are cool that he does, but when I say he is cool, I am saying that everything he does is done to be cool or done in a cool style.

Now look back at “God is love.”  John is telling us that everything God does, everything He thinks, is done first and foremost out of love.  God’s reasoning in making the earth and providing for us is done out of love.  God’s reason for sending His son was done out of love.  Look at John 3:16.  “For God so loved the world that He sent His only begotten son…”  Jesus gives the reasoning for God’s actions right there.  It’s not because God thought it would benefit Himself or hurt Satan; God sent His son out of love.  God’s thought process was, “I love my human creations, so I’ll send My son.”  What’s important to realize is that this is how all of God’s thought processes are.  When God heals someone, a lot of people say (and rightly so) that He did it because it glorified Him, but isn’t it quite possible that God wanted that person to be better because He loved them?  It is possible, and in fact it’s true.

Now where do we come in on this?  Well, if we’re supposed to be like Jesus, and Jesus is God, and God is love, then by the transitional property we are supposed to be love.  We are supposed to let love control our reasoning.  We are supposed to look at every situation and every person with love at the forefront of our mind.  Love is our reasoning for spreading the Word.  Love is our reasoning for praying for people.  We love God so we praise Him and follow His commandments.  That’s our goal, to let love rule our lives.