A Christian Psychic

I drove by a psychic’s house the other day.

Other than the banners, signs, neon arrows and the psychic who lived inside, it was a very ordinary house.

Seeing this house made me wonder how someone enters the psychic vocation. Do you have to have license or a permit? Is there an online training course? I suppose that since I do not know the answers to these questions intuitively, it does not matter all that much.

I would have loved to have been there when this woman decided to become a psychic...

“Honey, do you remember that time a couple of years ago that you and I were watching American Idol and I told you that Sanjia was not going to win? Well, remember how I was right about that? I have been thinking that I might have psychic powers and we already have all these dangling beads and black lights, maybe I should start my own business.”

It is even more perplexing that she has stayed in business. I guess humans have a need to know what’s going to happen. We want to know the future and explain the past. We want answers to questions like, "Why did this event or that tragedy happen?" and "What is going to happen when I die?" or "How will the earth end?'

Preachers often sell Christianity as a ticket into a future party. "This act, prayer, belief, or practice will get you into heaven." While partly true, this teaching is extremely dangerous if it is the only teaching offered.

Since I believe that Christianity is not a man made religion, I do not think it answers man made questions. Many Christians, since they are men, try to answer these questions and will manipulate scripture to do so, but this is not what Christ came to achieve (if it were, he would have answered more of the questions we asked him).

Christ does not offer many explanations about tragedies, or predictions of the future. He tells us not to concern ourselves with tomorrow because today has enough troubles of its own.

Christians should value today. We should live in this present moment. We should experience the relationships around us right now. 

When Peter was freed from prison, he was told, "Go stand in the temple courts and tell the people the full message of the this new life." 

If we are only telling others about the future, if we are only Christian psychics selling insights into what is going to happen, then we have missed the full message. We have missed the life that is promised for the present.

A life full of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. 

A response to an angry letter

Dear Benjamin, 

I think your last blog post sounded a bit harsh. I think you should delete it. I think that overtime you will regret having an angry rant representing you on the internet. 

Were you right? 

Who cares?

Would You Yell At My Daughter?

As she was getting her diaper changed, my oldest daughter (19 months) heard a lawnmower outside. She listened very intently for about ten seconds and said, “A Plane!”

I smiled and said, “You are sooo stupid!! When’s the last time you saw an airplane cutting grass. SHEESH! IDIOT!!” (Dear cps agent, I didn’t actually say this)

I actually said, “That’s right, a plane!”

Was she right? No.

Was her rightness important? Not at all.

I once heard an angry preacher preach an angry sermon that made me think he would yell at my daughter.

An Angry Preaching Tool

Preachers have a secret. 

This secret has lasted several generations under a cloak of secrecy which can be likened to that of Harry Potter’s cloak of invisibility (you are probably a nerd if you loved that last reference). 

This secret tool is so influential that it can only be revealed in caps lock...

THE HAND OF CONDEMNATION

The hand of condemnation was discovered in 1822 by a man named Ernest Blaimya. He had been trying to develop a method that would enable him to point out the flaws of others while avoiding any sort of self-evaluation. 

Ernest loved pointing at the particularly bad sinners in his congregation during his sermons, but hated the three fingers that pointed back at him. These three fingers didn’t seem to understand that Ernest’s sins were never as bad as the sins of those he was judging. 

Then one bright and blessed Sunday, a man walked into Mr. Blaimya’s church. This man was late and underdressed, so Ernest knew he was a sinner of the worst kind (Seriously! He didn't even look like a Christian). During the first three songs Ernest and his wife glared judgment on this man so fiercely that, unbeknownst to him, he was in danger of bursting in to hell flames on the spot (some say that spontaneous condemnation is a myth, but a boy can dream can’t he?). 

When it was time to preach, Ernest was so fired up that he didn’t make any announcements before his sermon. He just ripped right into it.

He preached so angrily that his palms were sweating, his vision was blurring, and when he spoke of those sinners who disrespect God by not having nice clothes, he pointed at the tardy fellow on the front row with all five fingers. 

Thus, the long distance slap known now as the hand of condemnation was born.

You’re welcome.

They Glow For Hours

My brother called me the other day with some news: He had just seen something funny on the bathroom wall while he was in the mall.

It wasn't anything vulgar, just odd.

Jesus and the Encyclopedia Salesman

When is the President, or someone with awesome authority, going to do something about these kiosk crazies who mosey after innocent passers-by trying to sell soap or some other crazy beauty product. 

They ask questions like, "Can I show you something?" and, "Can I ask you a question?" I am so scared of making eye contact with these people that I have actually pretended to be on the phone as I pass by the kiosk. 

The Enhanced Church

I sure am glad Christmas is over.

I am not a scrooge (I use this term knowing full well that Scrooge now loves Christmas because the grim reaper told him he was going to die), but I am always thankful when the holiday season is over.

Now that Christmas is over, I get a month long break from those stupid jewelry commercials. I have never seen one that didn't make me want to kick my dog (I don't actually kick my dog, but I do chase him around the house for a minute and a half). These commercials irritate me for three reasons that I can articulate: