Jesse, I totally agree with the Rev on this one (even though I don't "believe" in any of it). It's not a contradiction, it's a matter of perspective. You know - the blind men touching the elephant routine. This is also very much a Taoist point of view.Rev. Jordan T. Maxwell wrote:God is one. God is three. God is many. God is all. God is none. it's all in your perspective.
The funny thing is, although I don't believe in the Christian version of God (nor any others), I'm not saying that none of them are "true." They very well might be. In fact, all of them might be, depending on your heritage. But all that really matters to ME is that I try my best to live my life in accordance with "what I think or feel is Right" moment to moment*.
[*Insert another discussion here of why there is no "hard-wiring" for Right and Wrong. It is entirely context-sensitive.] If my actions happen to anger or please a God somewhere, then I'll discover the consequences of that, soon enough.
By the same token, I'm not afraid of death. I have no expectation of retribution or reward. I have no expectation of any kind. It will be whatever it is - either "nothingness" (in which case, there won't be a "me" to care any more one way or the other), or something really amazing will happen. I'm curious to know what that might be, but certainly not afraid of it.
Of course, that perspective might also be tempered by first-hand acquaintance with death. All of my immediate family (brother, husband, father & mother) have passed on. For two of them (husband & mom), I was the primary care-giver and with them when they died. That life experience is another reason why I think there might just be something After. . .
BTW - like Jesse & Tribe, I was sent to Sunday school & church services (at Memorial Baptist Church in Baytown - hallelujah!) until I was old enough to choose not to go any more. I remember the emotionally-charged, fire & brimstone sermons by Brother Jordan (who moved next door to my parents many years later). I remember being pressured to "pledge my faith" during church services. I remember being embarrassed because my mom couldn't afford to dress me as nicely as the rest of the girls. (Maybe that's why she didn't go to church herself.) I remember not going on the church retreats because we didn't have the money to send me or my brother; but feeling relieved that I didn't go when the rumors spread about girls coming home pregnant from said retreats. I enjoyed the music and sang a lot of hymns. I still have the white, leather-bound St. James bible that Mom gave me (mostly unread), and her own family bible (from her mom, circa 1880s) with its records of family births and deaths, and a large, heavy "Treasury of Hymns" with beautiful scrollwork on the pages, that inspired me to study art.
Ultimately, it was the small-minded hypocrisy of the people that turned me away from the church. I didn't know it at the time, but my parents were Yankees, and although my brother and I were born in Baytown, we were never really made to feel welcome. And, of course, the total lack of integrity when it came to walking the talk. Church was all lip-service and social posturing.
Kathy