The Scandalous Injustice of Grace
A big wall of text here, so those with the attention span of a goldfish can move to other perhaps greener pastures.......who really knows which are green and which are filled with weeds and thorns?
But a last post here from DalisMoustache, who will fade now back into cyberspace. Just a final word on Grace, which I think is at the heart of existence. Sadly - and perhaps I am far too bold in saying so - many Christians here and elsewhere simply do not understand. "Works" are easily seen within their expressed words, yet they are blind to this.
I have spoken of Universal Salvation. Logically, morally, spiritually, Universalism is the [i][b]ONLY[/b][/i] teaching entirely compatible with the full purity of Grace. Sadly - again - those invited here to read and investigate this in the many works now on offer (written by biblical based Christians whose fidelity to Christ is unquestionable) have point blank refused to do so. I assume that they prefer their works.
Anyway, an excerpt from one of the many books now available which draws out the teaching of Universalism, a teaching that has always been a strand within the Christian Tradition and was in fact taught and believed widely in the Early Church.
[i]Back in 2008, 60 Minutes interviewed the Boston button man John Martorano. The interview is unsettling. In a quiet, detached, matter-of-fact tone, Martorano describes the twenty confessed murders he committed during his years as an enforcer for the Winter Hill Gang. At the conclusion of the interview, Steve Kroft asks the key question: Do you regret what you did?
“In some cases, regret can take over a person’s life. I don’t get the sense that that’s the case with you.”
“Well, maybe that’s just not my temperament or my personality. Maybe it is, but you can’t see it. Or maybe I can’t express it the way you want it, but I have my regrets.”
“You seem cold. You killed 20 people and that’s all you have to say about it?”
“I wish it wasn’t that way. I mean, I wish there was none. You know, you can’t change the past. I’m trying to do the best I can with the future and explain it as best I can. I regret it all, I can’t change it.”
“You still a Catholic?”
“Sure.”
“I mean, you can burn in hell for killing one person.”
“I don’t believe that. At one point, maybe a couple years ago, I sent for a priest and gave him a confession. It was maybe 30 years since my last confession. But I went through the whole scenario with him, and went through my whole life with him, and confessed. And at the end of it, he says, ‘Well, what do you think I should give you for penance?’ I says, ‘Father, you can justifiably crucify me.’ He laughed and says, ‘Nope. Ten Hail Marys, ten Our Fathers, and don’t do it again.’ So I listened to him.”
This interview has been remarked upon throughout the blogosphere and social media. Most are dissatisfied with Martorano’s expression of contrition. He seems too cool, too detached. They do not believe he has truly repented and therefore do not believe that God has forgiven him. Many mock the penance assigned by the priest. What struck me most was Martorano’s trust in the sacramental word of the priest: “I listened to him.” Martorano believes that God has forgiven him. He trusts the divine word of absolution, and that word is sufficient. God has spoken.
Yet our instinctive reaction is “That is not enough.” We want to see deeper sorrow and shame, tears, reparations, a dramatic change in the man’s life before we will consider the possibility that God has forgiven this murderer. It’s all too easy and unfair. Grace is not cheap, as we preachers are wont to say.
But then we remember a parable that Jesus once told about the Kingdom of God. The householder hires laborers to work in his vineyard—some he hires at the break of day, then others at the third, sixth, ninth, and finally the eleventh hour. At the end of the day, he pays the laborers the same wage, no matter how many hours they worked. Those who worked the entire day are understandably upset. “These last worked only one hour,” they protest, “and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” A fair point. How can that be just?
The vintner replies: Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what belongs to you, and go; I choose to give to this last as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?[/i]
Well that is it. Reflect upon this or not. I will now cancel my account as DalisMoustache and resurrect myself under a new name. I am a Buddhist, Pure Land, and have found Grace within that Faith. Others, particularly the "Only Way Is Jesus" type, will perhaps object. That is fine.
May true Dharma continue.
No blame. Be Kind. Love everything.
A final story:-
[i]The good are densely clustered at the gate of heaven, eager to march in, sure of their reserved seats, keyed up and bursting with impatience. All at once, a rumor starts spreading: “It seems He’s going to forgive those others, too!” For a minute, everybody’s dumbfounded. They look at one another in disbelief, gasping and sputtering, “After all the trouble I went through!” “If only I’d known this . . .” “I just cannot get over it!” Exasperated, they work themselves into a fury and start cursing God; and at that very instant they’re damned. That was the final judgment.[/i]
But a last post here from DalisMoustache, who will fade now back into cyberspace. Just a final word on Grace, which I think is at the heart of existence. Sadly - and perhaps I am far too bold in saying so - many Christians here and elsewhere simply do not understand. "Works" are easily seen within their expressed words, yet they are blind to this.
I have spoken of Universal Salvation. Logically, morally, spiritually, Universalism is the [i][b]ONLY[/b][/i] teaching entirely compatible with the full purity of Grace. Sadly - again - those invited here to read and investigate this in the many works now on offer (written by biblical based Christians whose fidelity to Christ is unquestionable) have point blank refused to do so. I assume that they prefer their works.
Anyway, an excerpt from one of the many books now available which draws out the teaching of Universalism, a teaching that has always been a strand within the Christian Tradition and was in fact taught and believed widely in the Early Church.
[i]Back in 2008, 60 Minutes interviewed the Boston button man John Martorano. The interview is unsettling. In a quiet, detached, matter-of-fact tone, Martorano describes the twenty confessed murders he committed during his years as an enforcer for the Winter Hill Gang. At the conclusion of the interview, Steve Kroft asks the key question: Do you regret what you did?
“In some cases, regret can take over a person’s life. I don’t get the sense that that’s the case with you.”
“Well, maybe that’s just not my temperament or my personality. Maybe it is, but you can’t see it. Or maybe I can’t express it the way you want it, but I have my regrets.”
“You seem cold. You killed 20 people and that’s all you have to say about it?”
“I wish it wasn’t that way. I mean, I wish there was none. You know, you can’t change the past. I’m trying to do the best I can with the future and explain it as best I can. I regret it all, I can’t change it.”
“You still a Catholic?”
“Sure.”
“I mean, you can burn in hell for killing one person.”
“I don’t believe that. At one point, maybe a couple years ago, I sent for a priest and gave him a confession. It was maybe 30 years since my last confession. But I went through the whole scenario with him, and went through my whole life with him, and confessed. And at the end of it, he says, ‘Well, what do you think I should give you for penance?’ I says, ‘Father, you can justifiably crucify me.’ He laughed and says, ‘Nope. Ten Hail Marys, ten Our Fathers, and don’t do it again.’ So I listened to him.”
This interview has been remarked upon throughout the blogosphere and social media. Most are dissatisfied with Martorano’s expression of contrition. He seems too cool, too detached. They do not believe he has truly repented and therefore do not believe that God has forgiven him. Many mock the penance assigned by the priest. What struck me most was Martorano’s trust in the sacramental word of the priest: “I listened to him.” Martorano believes that God has forgiven him. He trusts the divine word of absolution, and that word is sufficient. God has spoken.
Yet our instinctive reaction is “That is not enough.” We want to see deeper sorrow and shame, tears, reparations, a dramatic change in the man’s life before we will consider the possibility that God has forgiven this murderer. It’s all too easy and unfair. Grace is not cheap, as we preachers are wont to say.
But then we remember a parable that Jesus once told about the Kingdom of God. The householder hires laborers to work in his vineyard—some he hires at the break of day, then others at the third, sixth, ninth, and finally the eleventh hour. At the end of the day, he pays the laborers the same wage, no matter how many hours they worked. Those who worked the entire day are understandably upset. “These last worked only one hour,” they protest, “and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” A fair point. How can that be just?
The vintner replies: Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what belongs to you, and go; I choose to give to this last as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?[/i]
Well that is it. Reflect upon this or not. I will now cancel my account as DalisMoustache and resurrect myself under a new name. I am a Buddhist, Pure Land, and have found Grace within that Faith. Others, particularly the "Only Way Is Jesus" type, will perhaps object. That is fine.
May true Dharma continue.
No blame. Be Kind. Love everything.
A final story:-
[i]The good are densely clustered at the gate of heaven, eager to march in, sure of their reserved seats, keyed up and bursting with impatience. All at once, a rumor starts spreading: “It seems He’s going to forgive those others, too!” For a minute, everybody’s dumbfounded. They look at one another in disbelief, gasping and sputtering, “After all the trouble I went through!” “If only I’d known this . . .” “I just cannot get over it!” Exasperated, they work themselves into a fury and start cursing God; and at that very instant they’re damned. That was the final judgment.[/i]
70-79