Discalimer

The articles here represent my own belief, thoughts and ideas. Do not copy or publish any of my articles without my permission.

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

My story

 

The stories we tell ourselves make all the difference in shaping us as human beings. We all tell ourselves stories. Some more real than others. But our heart functions on those stories, that’s why we decide upon a world view that coincides with the stories we tell ourselves and call that ‘belief’.  And it doesn’t matter if that belief is atheism, Islam, ancient aliens, wicca or Christianity, we all continue to feed our minds on our stories just to act like we understand the point of everything.

Now, I can only speak as a born-again Christian, so I don’t know on an objective level if the other world views ever face doubts and faith struggles as Christians do. I can only speak about them in a critical sense. I don’t know if an atheist ever sits in bed at night and in a sincere moment asks himself, ‘did I get it right? What if? ...’ I don’t rightly know if a Hindu ever wonders at his pantheon and thinks it’s a joke. Does a Muslim ever wonder if he’s praying into thin air? Maybe it’s just Christians that have doubts, or maybe just this Christian… but I doubt that.

In my case, some might say, my doubts are warranted. I mean, I have not been gentle with my faith. I didn’t spare it any opposing arguments, not from Voltaire and David Hume with all their mocking, not from all of Kant’s veiled atheism, not from Spinoza’s pantheism, not from Schopenhauer or Nietzsche’s disdain, not from the Talmud, not from the Quran, not from anything. I constantly pick my belief apart and put it back together. Maybe that’s an innate fault of mine because I never want to build with things that can be broken, that’s how I had to abandon many theories in my own theology, simply because they broke under real pressure. I have no doubt many more will follow simply because I am aware they’re a human’s attempt to grasp the infinite with a very finite mind.

Now I did say I have not been kind to my own faith, but there are reasons why it’s still standing. One, because I honestly don’t think I’m the one keeping it, otherwise it would have died 24 years ago, at the very beginning, with the very first trial. And second, because I still tell myself stories. A Christian would call it: the gospel. To others, it’s just another story among many other stories. But I think even begrudgingly the opponents would have to admit that nothing in this world has ever split history in BEFORE and AFTER their life like Christ has. Oh, and if I hear another ignorant argument that it was just Constantine’s doing, it just proves that you really need to read more, and I mean real books, not pseudo scholars on YouTube or TikTok. A good start would be Will Durant’s Caesar and Christ. Don't worry, he was just a historian and not Christian. It might shock you to know that Constantine did very little for Christianity, no matter that the Christian Orthodox Church has made him a saint, but I digress.

For a Christian, i.e. me, it’s absolutely vital to constantly remember the gospel. The story that God, in His love has created a beautiful, ordered and good world and in it He has placed as His image bearers, humans. He gave them the ability to chose and they chose rebellion and that has thrown the world into chaos and left man naked and ashamed before The Holy God. So, God in His love, for He so loved the world (John 3:16), has made a promise to send someone to redeem His creation from its fall. Throughout 39 books in the Olt Testament, God has either hinted at His initial promise or outright renewed His promise for a Redeemer. And men and women that were loyal to God have always looked in faith towards a future redemption. Until one day it came, but in such humility that people just couldn’t see in the son of a carpenter from Nazareth THE Redeemer. They couldn’t make sense why God would talk about The Promise in such exalted terms and in reality, appear as something that you wouldn’t look at twice, after all “he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.” (Isaiah 53:2) So humanity took The Promise and nailed Him to a cross. It never occurred to us that, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.” (Isaiah 53:4)

And The Promise died while praying for those that put Him on the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34) And we didn’t know. We couldn’t possibly imagine a reality where God, The Eternal, Everlasting would suffer His Son to be “pierced for our transgressions; crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5) All of it because we could never redeem ourselves. If we had Mother Theresa’s love and mercy, Budha’s discipline, Alexander the great’s ambition, Socrate’s contemplative nature, all combined in one single individual, couldn’t have purchased the re-entry in Eden, God’s sacred space. Only Christ’s death could purchase that. And as a sign that God has received the payment, He was raised from the dead. “He was delivered over to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification.” (Romans 4:25)

“He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.” (John 1:10-13)

The good news is that Jesus not only died and was raised up, but He is with The Father. “Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.” (Romans 8:34) Now, for everyone that trusts in Him for their redemption, there is “an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous” (1 John 2:1) And that’s the point I need to remind myself every day… today. That I have a Lawyer, Advocate, Defender, when my enemy tries to accuse me before my Father. One that can and does litigate every case brought against me. And let me tell you, He wins every time because He doesn’t just know the word, He is The Word.

I know that’s a fairytale to some and if you’re curious to know what I think about that, I suggest you read Orthodoxy, by G. K. Chesterton and that’s my opinion of your opinion. 

To those that trust in The Promise, I say, hang in there… the night is almost over. This darkness will end. You’ve been saved from the power of sin and there’s a day coming when you’ll be saved from the presence of sin too. The lies will cease. The doubts will die. We live through faith and walk through faith towards an unseen home, be strong. Be brave. And trust, beloved, trust that Our High Priest who has passed through the heavens (Hebrews 4:14) can and will get you through this valley.

 

by Cristina Pop

 

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Reaching out

 

Whisper me into hope now that the storm has abated,

Maybe I’ll hear Your words uncontaminated,

I’ll try not to twist them to mean what I crave,

I know that would be easier, but I will be brave.

I won’t nitpick at promises just to excuse my unbelief,

Nor distract myself from memories just to find relief.

I can’t promise You no fear, just that it won’t stop me,

That even as I’ll scheme to hide, I’ll come before You willingly.

Just strengthen the pillars of my clay,

I know at Your word it will mold and obey.

Just decree me whole and I’ll forget where I’m torn,

Just sing me Home and I’ll forget to mourn… 

I know Your voice.

 

by Cristina Pop

Friday, February 16, 2024

In-between

 

Somebody asked me how I’m doing lately, and I said I feel like Abram before he became Abraham and lived between Bethel and Ai. The person said, ‘I don’t know if that’s good or bad’ and I replied, ‘exactly!’. Needless to say, I don’t think they will ask about how I’m feeling anytime soon.


I’ll try and explain myself here. When Abram first entered the land, he had travelled all the way to Shechem and then made camp between Bethel and Ai (Genesis 12:8). He made an altar there and called upon the Name of God. That’s me, between Bethel and Ai, the house of God (Beit El) and a heap of ruins (Hai). In-between healing and hurting, in-between fear and trust, in-between knowing and feeling, in-between despair and hope. With all the potential to fail. With all the fear that might very much be the case.

Abram left his father’s house and ended up in-between Bethel and Ai. He called on the Name of God, but God didn’t say anything, at least it’s not recorded that God answered him, so Abram keeps on going. He just assumes that short of an outright ‘stop!’ he’s meant to keep going. And he does. Until there’s a famine in the land of promise. Abram goes to Egypt. What a mess that was. Abram comes back from Egypt. Back to the in-between. Back to the place he had between Bethel and Ai, back to the altar he had made before the Egypt fiasco (Genesis 13:3-4). This was before Bethel was Bethel. It would take a Jacob to sleep in that place and dream of a ladder on which angels ascended and descended, for the place to be called Bethel (Genesis 28:11-19). This was before Ai was called Ai. It would take a Joshua to come along and make it a heap of ruins (Joshua chapter 8).

 Abram didn’t know where he was, but he trusted God. Later he’d win a battle against 4 kings (Genesis ch. 14). Later he’d be made to count the stars (Gnesis 15:5). Later he’d have his name changed (Genesis 17:5). Later he’d see his promised son born (Genesis 21:3). Later he’d break his heart on an altar (Genesis 22:9-10). Later he’d get a promise God never made before or since to a human being (Genesis 22:16-18). But all that would be later. Now he’s in-between. Where all the questions are,  and all doubts and analysing every single step in hopes he’ll spot the error. In-between believing for the ground he stands on and the awful feeling of being a stranger in his own promised land. Yet trusting. Frail, pathetic, shivering trust, that God knows what He’s doing.  So yeah, I feel like that.

 

by Cristina Pop

Wise?

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"But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain..."