Chronicles to Christ - The Limits of God's Love?

Most of my early childhood exposure to Christianity was in a Southern Baptist Church. From the kid's puzzles to the paper plate crafts to the Vacation Bible School lessons, I was taught that God loved everyone. "Red and yellow, black and white, all are precious in his sight" was the way the song went. So I was taught that God is Love. God loves us. He wishes that none should perish. He wishes that everyone join him in heaven.

Then of course as I got into my youth years, I was taught "what it takes to be a Christian." Not just to have a "religion" but a relationship with Jesus. So of course going to church wasn't enough. Saying prayers wasn't enough. Being a good person wasn't enough. You had to have a genuine, consistent, walk with God. At one point in your life, you had to have made the decision to accept the fact that Jesus was your savior and the only way to heaven. In order to be a true Christian, you have to be a "born again" Christian. This one day and one decision should be enough to get you in heaven, and keep you in there after you die, no matter what happens after that day. After that day, you had to let God run your life, and live it out on a day to day basis. But of course many make this decision and then go the rest of their life not thinking twice about keeping the faith and maintaining their commitment to God. Many would say that those people never had a "genuine" experience to begin with. So then Jesus says that "narrow is the gate, and few will enter" (Matt. 7:14), and according to revelation, Jesus will only take the hot, not the warm. (Rev. 3:16).

But here's the problem - the world is approximately 6.7 billion people. Demographics delegate about 2 billion of them to be Christians. But wait - according to the debate, many people would be taken out. Let's say those who should be taken out would be those who simply based on the relationship vs. religion debate. Also, take out those who were born into their religion, only believed it because it was what they were taught, and only those who practice it on a few Sundays a year, perhaps Christmas and Easter, and never actually live it out. Take out all of the people who are not "living the life" because they never actually had a genuine commitment to Christ, take out all the luke-warm and fence sitters that God will spit out of his mouth, and what are you left with? Obviously the only people who live their personal relationship with Christ - only those who bear fruit (Matt. 7:18) will be accepted into the Kingdom. You know who they are - the people who do charities, orphanages, give their money to the poor, the widowed and orphaned. You know - all those things that Jesus tells us to do. (For theirs is the kingdom of heaven). According to all of these beliefs, just how narrow is that gate to heaven? Perhaps not even wide enough for 10's of millions who have ever lived, out of the 60+ billion that have roamed this planet.

If God is all loving, or even 1/2 loving (and the other 1/2 Just), how could he possibly allow so many people to burn in hell? We're talking about less than 10% making the cut. Something is wrong here. Either God does not hold life to be as sacred as we would like to think, or He is simply much bigger than any one religion.

Some credible and reliable demographic and religious statistics that I've found.
World Demographics
Religious Statistics
Also a special thank you to my friend Tom May who contributed to this discussion for many hours in many forms over our breakfasts at Chick-fil-a.

The Chronicles to Christ - Putting Together the Puzzle

My sister was actually evil when she was young. My parents, of course, did not realize this until much later in life when she confessed. Perfect example - my sister, during her pre-teen years - would consistently hit me, scratch me, make me mad, etc. However, she would never get in trouble. As my mom would say- "Nicole is having a rough time these days. She's going through some changes." However, apparently, I never went through changes or had rough times. Whenever I hit her, I got spanked. It was about every day. To her own admission, she was a snob - a very smart one. She knew how to pull off the sweet and innocent exterior while on the inside scheming ways to get both of her brothers in trouble, and to get her sweet little face off the hook. A middle child starving for attention.

A wonderful illustration of this occurred when our family would put together jigsaw puzzles. We would work together to complete the puzzle, flip it over, stick Elmer's glue on the back, and glue it to the back of a piece of cardboard we cut out of a box or something - and then we hung it on the wall. However, what my sister would do is take a piece of the puzzle immediately when we opened it, and then stick the piece in her pocket. She would hold on to this piece - sometimes for days or even weeks - hiding it from us. As the puzzle began to come together as one, my sister would hold out - and when everyone was looking for this piece, she would "magically find it" and it was her who put the final piece in the puzzle. She wanted the satisfaction and attention of putting that stinkin' piece of the puzzle in last. Somehow I never caught on.

I can't stand the puzzle of Christianity most days. It aggravates me. In my brief time on this planet, and from what I've studied, Christianity gives me different pieces of the puzzle - and what "life is supposed to be about." It has failed me in the past. It has saved me in the past. It has been everything I've needed while nothing I've wanted. But what is has been - is my strongest answer to the questions that haunt me every day and with every breath.

It is sometimes difficult to tell non-believers why I believe Christianity. Not because I don't know what I believe. Not because I'm lost as to why I believe it. But because I was once a non-believer. The reason it is difficult is because the non-believer needs it all - all the answers, all the truth, and all the knowledge. But I tell them that it's kind of like a 500-piece puzzle - one that is not complete. I tell them that I see Christianity as this puzzle, but I'm missing about 30 pieces or so. I've put together the other 470 and I can see the picture that the puzzle is putting together-though it is still incomplete. Other puzzles of faith have pieces that don't fit - or perhaps too many of the same piece. I think where most of my disappointment has come is where I have to guess what is in the holes created by missing pieces. It is more difficult since I have no picture to look at except the one that is being formed with every piece that falls into place. It is a mystery disguised as a conspiracy, to me. I have tried to fill those holes on my own, guessing. And I was wrong.

I wonder just how many pieces He's saving for the end. I wonder if I can be content seeing the general picture of what the puzzle is showing or if I have to demand every detail present to appreciate the beauty.

What I have found, is that no matter how hard I have tried in the past - I can't walk away from this puzzle once I have started. It nags in the back of my mind (and heart). A desire in me wants to see the end. It wants to see and know the whole story. Through my frustration of missing pieces, it is the glimpses of the beauty of this picture that keeps me seeking for those missing pieces.

From Athenian to Phoenician

Well my 2-day, 28-hour, 1900 mile journey from Atlanta to Phoenix is complete. My new (dirty) truck sitting in the driveway of my new house. My new room has carpet, paint on the walls, a door (not made of plywood) and so far no bugs or rodents. My new full size bed is sitting behind me - one night broken in - with my roommate's sheets because I have no money to go buy some new ones yet. I am at my new desk that was a hassle to put together, sitting beside Solomon as he LOVES the new, warm climate here and has not stopped moving around in his Christmas tree that Becky got him.

My room, although getting settled, still shows signs of a move-in. My floor is littered with everything random. Sitting at my desk looking at my floor, I see things like Chapstick, Clorox wipes, my degree from UGA in it's original tube (I still have yet to get a frame), a red & black scarf my friend Samantha had made me, and NFL edition Monopoly, among other things.

As I exit my room and make my way to the stairs, I pass the other 3 rooms and 2 bathrooms in the house, pass the living room with the 32 inch HD TV. I go downstairs and pass the kitchen and sit down on the sofa. I pick up the remote to turn on the light and fan. Then I pick up a second remote to turn on the TV. I pick up another remote to turn on the sound system. I then pick up a fourth remote to turn on the cable and browse what's on our TV - a 62 inch, HD, 1080P Television set. I counted 6 remotes downstairs on the coffee table and only 3 upstairs. My one remote is for my iHome stereo in my room for my iPod.

I look out in my yard and see all the dirt - well actually it's mud. My first two days in Phoenix, and I get rain all day. A city that only gets 6 inches a year. Go figure. After leaving a state 30 inches behind in rain. But we're trying to grow grass. Everyone else just has rocks. But we will prevail. We've already got the lawn furniture, grill, tiki torches, etc. Just need the grass.

My neighborhood is nice. I have a nice view down my street and it's flat (unlike Athens) for when I want to go running. I have sidewalks instead of running in the road. I get in my truck and leave my house, and I have to make one right turn and go 1.9 miles to get to a Wal-Mart, Bank of America, Barne's and Noble, Lowe's, Staples, World Market, Party City, Petco, Dick's Sporting Goods, Best Buy, (and an infinite amount of "smaller" stores and restaurants). 5 miles away is my work - across from the AMC 30 movie theater in case I want to see Shrek 4 (if it ever comes out). I look across the landscape at the mountains, cacti, and rocks. It's actually quite beautiful and more lovely than the sum of it's parts. The sunsets are gorgeous and I will have to be sure to get some photos later on.

Depending on what turns I made, I could keep driving and within a few hours arrive at the beaches of San Diego or Las Angeles, the casinos of Las Vegas, the power of the Hoover Dam, snowboarding in Flagstaff, the awe of the Grand Canyon, or perhaps a quick trip to Mexico. The question is - what weekend trip will I take first? (When I start getting weekends off, that is). It could be a while.

But for now... just wanted to paint a quick picture.... much different than what I am used to, for sure.