The horror that walked with God

*Reader Discretion Is Advised*

I had been on the journey for a while, sun burning overhead, the road stretching forever before me, mind tired, tongue parched. I had not seen, for a while, any of my friends that had been walking along with me and I was looking forward to meeting someone else on this long road. I knew, though, that it was only a matter of time before I met someone else on this journey that never seemed to end.

Sometimes, there was the joy of finding gems on the journey, and at other times, it was the peace of being in tune with life itself, or the feeling of harmony and being in sync with others who were on the same journey, seeking the same destinations – and at other times, it was simply the arduous discipline of forcing one feet in front of the other, drawing on Life and moving on.

Perhaps I had been too lost in my thoughts, or maybe it was the poor visibility as the wind’s dance caused a mild sandstorm, but then, suddenly, in the midst of the sandy fog, I saw him…

Or maybe I should say “it”.

So, what is Church?

Is it
A pretentious pool of paltry persons, persuasive puppeteers and perfumed prostitutes that piously populate pathetic but pristine pews?

Or
A ferocious fettered faction of faithful faithfuls foolishly following fanatical fallacies that have a fickle foundation?



OR
The glorious gathering of God’s guided government;
a genuine group of gimmick-less giants whose glittering glamour germinates (and culminates) in generous genial gentility that is aghast at the ghastly gibberish that is the general norm?



Christians….
People who really love, people who really share,
People who really build you up because they really care,
It’s a shame, but the true ones, like gems are so rare,
They are now hardly found anywhere….

Selah...

Beyond Joy...

Many talk about the “joy of salvation”. I have never felt the joy at any of the several points when I came back to Christ or had a “re-dedication” to God, as well as the numerous times I have confessed sins and come back to the walk with God. In one of the (several) denominations I attended, we had been told that when one became a “Christian”, (I prefer “Disciple” or God-chaser because it implies a journey or continuum) the new convert would experience the “joy of salvation”, which was supposed to be proof that they were actually “saved”. 

Well, I have come to realise that this esoteric “joy of salvation” is as much of an evidence for salvation as speaking in tongues is an evidence of being baptised with the Holy Spirit. It just does not happen for everyone.

The Joy of Lying

Come with me and allow me to take you to that place where everything is possible, right into your mind, and now I will point you to the man. See, he is right above you.

Now, I will also take you into his very mind. We are allowed to do so because as I said earlier, this place is your mind – and in this place, anything is possible.

Alone in the crowd

I remember that day well…

Earlier on, there had been an invitation from a good friend of mine, one of the kindest people I have met on the planet. She had invited me to come over for a birthday get-together. It would simply be barbeque and drinks with friends in the back garden and it would be fun, she had said. I didn’t really know the person celebrating that day, but I decided I’d honour the invitation and go over.

Perhaps, if I had known how the day would unravel, I would have stayed back in my apartment, content with playing a video game, munching pizza and downing cider – but, I had no idea, and like we say in Africa, I carried my two legs and went over.

I walked through the door way with my most polite “hello-people” smile on my face, relieved to see a few familiar faces – and it was then it dawned on me that I was the only black person around.

Earrings of God

Thunder rumbled in the distance and I glanced at the sky briefly. The sounds were louder now, but I knew in a few moments, there would only be silence. Seconds later, I saw them charge out of the darkness, eyes enraged – and yet, desperate – swords drawn, saliva dripping from lips, necks taut with the strain of a battle cry... They were the remnants in this city of madness, a barbaric horde that would meet their fate at my blade. All eight of them jumped out of the shadows in a ‘surprise ambush’.

I wasn’t surprised and did not feel ambushed in the least. Without breaking sweat, my sword ‘appeared’ in my hands. I cut them down quickly without a sound. A battle cry would be a waste of air.

I have always hated having to end another’s life, but the world is fallen and it’s killed or be killed. Besides, it is the way of the soldier and though I was just eighteen, I knew that well.

The Complexity of Grace

Here's a horrible story for closet sadists to "humm" and "haaa" and shake their heads to - and be happy about the "justice of God".

A lady grew up in a 'Christian' home. (I say this carefully because some 'Christian' homes are loveless abodes that destroy individuals and foster rebellion with their approach to "serving God") Well, at some point she rebelled and when that happens, the individual often tends to decide to break as many of the Ten Commandments as possible. Well, in this particular case, she decided she was going to lose her virginity. So she found the first guy who was willing to provide assistance and the deed was done. There was nothing romantic about it. Infact, the deed was done in the science lab of a university.

The result was that she got pregnant...

And she bore triplets.

The growing madness called "Church"

Many of the articles I write, I enjoy because they sort of ‘burn out’ of me through my fingers and all I have to deal with is grammar and formatting. I am not particularly writing this because I enjoy the topic but I feel that there is a need to speak the truth. It will then be up to individuals to love or hate it, act or remain passive as people tend to do – or even fight it – but I would have spoken the truth.

I sat down in a gathering where I was about to do a gig, focusing on going up to the stage to play some songs. Just before I went up, a guy went up to the podium and started speaking freely about ‘Church’ and ‘Christianity’ – and I sat in my seat and felt fed up… again – but in a nice sort of way. I was glad that someone who has never read any of my articles or had a discussion with me, but who is evidently given to the God-Chase had similar things to say about the filthy stench of ‘Church’, if I may.

Now, when I say Church, I refer to its usage as is commonly used, a place where people gather to do fast-paced music they call ‘praise’ and slow-paced music they call ‘worship’, where the gathering of one person speaking to a large group of passive listeners is ‘fellowshipping’, where the ‘pastor’ is the leader of the ‘flock’ which is the congregation and where he is respected and worshipped as a demi-god because he is ‘the man of God’… But the truth is, no congregation or gathering of people is perfect, so let me not flog these issues.

But then, there are other things.

Darkness

I have watched them before I was with them, known of their lifestyles before they even became aware of me – and yet, never has a race so loved and embraced me. For years and aeons, I sat in the darkness, unknown, unsought, unwanted in the place that you can only understand as “the void”, a place that is, and strangely, is not, in terms of the human language.

But I was never alone, because “he” has always being with me, shrouding all that I am, waiting with me in the void, and like me, was born into creation from the void where we existed – and yet did not exist…till the bite that changed it all.

The Satanic Pincer (part 2 of 2)

I remember sitting down as a kid listening to a tape with my sisters. It was an audio cassette (remember those things?) and it was about a man who was heavily into the occult and who had seen and talked with Satan…and stuff like that. My parents had been averse to TV, so we didn’t watch a lot of it – we read books! Anyway, after hearing him go on and on about the occult, blood, abduction, demons and sacrifices, there was a power cut! The living room went dark, my sisters went off and I sat down in the now-sinister-looking living room trembling with fear – but too ashamed to admit it.

That might be a familiar scenario for many, but we all grow up and lose our fear of the dark. (Hey, don’t feel bad if you still sleep with the light on.)

A vision of the future? (Fiction)

Disclaimer: This article contains disturbing references. Reader discretion is advised.

(RINNNNGG!!!)
You wake up feeling groggy and glance at the clock. It is 6pm, Saturday evening. You walk wearily towards the bath to have a quick shower before service. It’s a 15minute walk and you are not in the mood to get on the bus, so you decide to have an early start. Sunday is now a curfew and a day of rest, so no one is allowed to go out anymore on a Sunday.

Well, so many other things about the world have changed.

“Warm”, you say, instinctively reaching out your hand to test the temperature of the water. There is really no need, as it has adjusted to your voice command, your body temperature, your preference based on earlier showers and the temperature of the room. The bath is refreshing and you put on your clothes slowly and stand in front of the door – and then, your lips start to move in prayer because you are about to step out. The well-oiled door opens noiselessly and you walk into the hallway, closing the door tentatively behind you. Outside, the wind picks up, almost muffled by the sound of blaring speakers. You cannot make out the words but the drumming feels like a heartbeat and your pulse starts to quicken. You step onto the street.

The Satanic Pincer

I’m going to talk about a vision a friend of mine had. If you follow my writings, you may know that I am very careful about spiritual gifts as they have often been bastardised in many religious circles. It is crucial to understand that they CANNOT be used as a measure of spiritual maturity – that is what observing people’s ‘fruits’ (way of life) over time is for. It is also important to know that as long as spiritual gifts are weighed in tandem with the larger picture of God’s word, they are a useful function of body life, ie, life in God and relating with believers. 

Hopefully, no one will miss my regular humour in this article because I will just be going straight to the point this time. The reason is that the issue I am hoping to shed light on is an extremely crucial one – especially considering the days we live in. It is about DECEPTION.

Now back to the vision.

Symphony of the Divine

At the risk of sounding narcissist, it has been reinforced more and more in my mind that God looks at us with A LOT of delight.

Been thinking through thoughts that popped in my head from an analogy.
When people hear a song of mine and like it, they like the 'finished' song - but for me, from the moment I 'created' the song (as it happens with me) I hear the vocals, harmonies, strings, effects and instrumentation in my head (and/or mind) and I'm excited and happy and all charged up.

Why?

Because the song IS a beautiful song in REAL TIME -  MY time...
In ME.

Bored in 'Church'

WARNING: THIS ARTICLE MAY OFFEND YOU...


I walk through the doors of this edifice. It’s an architect’s delight, any day, anytime. The doors are oval, golden pillars, grand lighting, amazing banner, impressive music…awesome! I take my place among the worshippers and seat myself in the plush seats. Ah, they are soft and feel like they reached up to comfort by sore backside.

KRAKA BOOM!!! The drummer rolls on the drums with robot-like precision and the piano starts to play a hypnotic tune, lead singer waltzes onto the stage, snazzy suit.

“Oh yes, oh yes, we worship you, Lord God of glory…” and reels off 13 names of God in one breath. 13 names of God in one breath! Awesome!

Is Jesus really in Church?

I know a lot of people have been hurt in religious denominations and are probably reading this to re-affirm their anger against Church as it is popularly known. While I understand your point of view, that is NOT the purpose of this article.

I know some others will probably feel uncomfortable and defensive about the title, and feel a need to defend Church in whatever form from any ‘attacks’ from me. Well, you can relax now. My point is not to attack the true Church – or to attack at all.

In all the quibbling and arguments, I just want to point us away from it all to THE REASON.

In conclusion...

My journey in the search of truth and Truth himself has led me to read, research, ask questions and ponder. The more I seek, the more I find, about God about love, about life…because at the end of the day when a man lies on his death bed, these are the things that really count. I have come to find out, however, that there is a simplicity to following God. 

Yes, following God is truly simple, not really easy – but then, like the samurai sword saint (Miyamoto Musashi) said “Everything is hard at first”. Your first steps or first time driving was a struggle, but time passes: You soon learn to walk, to swim, to drive, to speak – and even to fly – without giving it much thought. What was learnt becomes second nature and ‘true skill now comes without effort’.

So it is in the pursuit of God.

The Christian and his demons

I love rings – always have. I love other weird things as well. Someone once said to me, why do you like rings, and in my mind, I was thinking ‘why do you like trousers that seem scared of the floor?’ It seems hard for some people to grasp the notion of personal preference. That’s why some do not like mangoes, others love sky diving, some have dogs as pet and some love dogs better in stew! I can bet my life some are appalled at the notion of eating dogs, as they chew on a poor chicken’s thigh – while the vegetarian looks at everyone else who eats meat in disdain, while they uproot a poor onion. 

Someone even said harvested plants could be heard shrieking if you were ‘sensitive’ enough. Well, that is certainly not a spiritual gift I’d like to have.

So, this female pastor once said to me ‘what if your ring was forged under the sea and has marine spirits attached to it?’ – and then I realised:

It’s very difficult to have a conversation with a person who asks you ludicrous questions.

But I am small...

Tears rolled down my eyes. The pain was too great to bear on that day of losses. My logical mind tried to work out the trauma that ravaged my soul. I watched the drama of pain unfold, and what is worse than going through difficulty is not being able to stop it. I wanted to wade in, change the tide, wipe away the tears.

But I am small.

I am man, weak, limited, fickle. I possess infinite power on the inside, endless potential deep within, universe-rending treasures in an earthen vessel, but there is so much I cannot do, cannot help, cannot change. I have good intention indeed.

But I am small.

Guard your heart: Demonic meta-communication

Most of my close friends know I’m not a big fan of TV. Apart from playing video games or connecting it to a DVD player to watch a movie, or the news (which my wife follows so ardently!), it’s mostly off. I feel watching TV is too passive. You sit back and information is thrown at you, and you basically take it in, whether you are fully aware or not. So people are shocked when they come to my house and I do not subscribe to cable satellite channels, and have their jaws hitting the floor when I have no clue about what is going on in Big Brother. Honestly, I don’t think I’m missing a whole lot.

However, the reason why I am writing this is to speak to Disciples of Christ. (I'm find it harder to use the term ‘Christian’) about a crucial matter: The mind.

Jesus in the brothel

It was early Sunday morning
Streets were lined with fervent faithfuls
I was glad to be a part of this ‘great’ crowd
As I walked to our ‘holy grounds’

I clutched my well-worn bible
That I’d read from cover to cover
And was sated at the very thought
That I knew its every precept

Then it was time to pass that dark place
Where prostitutes and con men mingled
Ah, the dark path that I had to take
To get to church on Sunday!

So I raised my nose to walk by
In 'holy' indignant anger
Past the shady den of devious men
And wenches of easy virtue!

As I walked by on that Sunday
I looked by chance into the brothel
And there, right there with its motley crew
Stood a witty well-tanned Jew