My home is hurting, my home is dying


There was a great flood.  The waters rose and the land was submerged.  All were afeared.

Yet some found a safe place.  They gathered their belongings as much as they could carry and went to this place.  They left everything else behind.  All they had was all they could carry.  Others who found this place also arrived.  Yet it rained and rained more and none could speak with their fellows.  All were together yet alone.  All wet and cold.  Miserable and tired.  Their safety was of living rather than of joy.  Their future of little rather than plenty.

So each found a space and took it.  Each had neighbours.  Some spoke together and some did not.  Some shared together and some did not.  Some sang together and some said to stop.  So each moved their space to be alongside others who spoke the same, who sang or were quiet the same, others who seemed they were the same.  And the rains fell and continued to fall.

And soon food became scarce.  Water to drink became hard to find.  And some prayed for help.  And others scoffed at their prayers.  Some said there was no God.  And those who prayed prayed harder.  And those who said there was no God laughed harder.  And those who said there was God shared their meagre provisions with each other.  And those who said there was no God shared their meagre provisions with each other.  Those who said there was no God jeered at those who said there was.  They scorned those who said there was.  They laughingly asked why their God allowed so much rain, so much suffering, had so little care for them.  And those who believed their God shouted back their proof: their God had been scorned and had to make all evil.  Only by praying would these scoffers be saved.  They shouted back that they were praying for the scoffers.  They invited the scoffers to join them.  And the scoffers shouted back that the believers should cross over to their side.

And the rains continued to fall and the food grew less and the suffering continued.  And the scoffers blamed the believers.  And the believers blamed the scoffers.  And the rains still fell.

And some from both sides said we are all wet and cold and hungry.  We all desire warmth and dryness and comfort.  We have that in common.  Why not come together and make that happen.  And some believers said, we cannot work with the scoffers they must believe first.  And some scoffers said we cannot work with the believers they must disbelieve first.  And the rains still fell.

And some scoffers said we used to be believers and now we are not.  We have no belief we have science. And science is God (without the belief you understand).  And some of those who wished to join together said but that sounds like a different God and a different believing.  And the scoffers said you do not understand you cannot be part of us.  And still the rains fell.

And some believers said our God can be proved and this is why you should believe us.  Our belief is just like science for science begins and ends with ideas of belief.  And some of those who wished to join together said that may be true but they are different.  And the believers said you do not understand you cannot be part of us.  And the rains continued to fall.

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It seems to me that – whatever your belief (or the belief you call science, humanity, nature, technology,,,) we are still getting wet.  And no amount of debate is going to provide an answer because we all live by something.  And we all call it something.  And while we debate who is right and who is wrong – we are all still living in the same small place – and we all need each other – and there is a reason for that – and we only get less than one lifetime to figure it out.

And the way I see it there are no “sides”.  We live on a ball (which is a clue?) which we call a globe that we call earth.  And it is our home.  And if we are not proud of our home – then it is not a home – it is a lodging and we are only lodgers.  And lodgers have no right to tell others how to live in their home – a home they are proud of – that they wish to pass on to their children – and their children’s children.

This is not about God or no-God.  This is about each of us.  And we don’t have the lifetime of this earth I call home to figure it out.  My home is hurting, my home is dying, and all of us are building walls … ?

This is about me and you.  This is my home.  I love my home.  I have children who love their home too.  And if you want to be a lodger in your church building … your home-lab … behind any and all the walls you build to keep others out … you are a lodger whatever you believe or don’t “believe”.   And I am serving notice:

It’s time to move out.

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One thought on “My home is hurting, my home is dying

  1. Pingback: Who are the lodgers? | Just me being curious

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