The World Looks As If

The Bread And The Pastry, The Cheeses And Wine, And The Sugar Go Into The Supper Of The Lamb Because We Do. It Is Our Love That Brings The City Home. It Is I Grant You, An Incautious And Extravagant Hope. But Only Outlandish Hopes Can Make Themselves At Home.

...we Are Saved By Christ Alone Who Raises Us From The Dead - From The Absolution Of Our Death. We Come Before Him At The Judgement With No Handwriting Whatsoever Against Us. It's Simply Cheating To Say You Believe That And Then Renege On It By Postulating Some List Of Extra-rotten Crimes For Which Christ Has To Send You To Hell. He, The Universal Redeemer, Is The Only Judge; As Far As He's Concerned, The Only Mandatory Sentence Is To Life And Life Abundant.

Grace Cannot Prevail...until Our Lifelong Certainty That Someone Is Keeping Score Has Run Out Of Steam And Collapsed.

If God Seems To Be In No Hurry To Make The Problem Of Evil Go Away, Maybe We Shouldn't Be, Either. Maybe Our Compulsion To Wash God's Hands For Him Is A Service He Doesn't Appreciate. Maybe - All Theodicies And Nearly All Theologians To The Contrary - Evil Is Where We Meet God. Maybe He Isn't Bothered By Showing Up Dirty For His Dates With Creation. Maybe - Just Maybe - If We Ever Solved The Problem, We'd Have Talked Ourselves Out Of A Lover.

One Real Thing Is Closer To God Than All The Diagrams In The World