Monthly Archives: November 2013

Motivational posters in Christianity

Yes it’s time for a rant. Gather around the fire, put a sugary marshmellow on a stick and let it roast.
Today I’m on my soapbox about motivational posters on social networks and such. These things get on my nerves as it is. But to make matters even worse is that we christians decided to get in on the action as wel. Embarassing blunders assured.
A while aggo I saw one that sort of helped spark this blog into excistence. It was a masterpiece.
A picture of a little girl whispering into another girl’s ear. Allong with the text “pssst, I’m christian and I’m proud of it”. Hold it…hold it…wait for it…did you find it yet?
It’s great that she suposidly shares her faith so boldly except that pride is one those things the bible doesn’t exactly speak highly about.
Yes I know I’m nitpicking here on one single instance, but good grief most of them are like that. If it isn’t a contradiction like that then it’s bound to be a tacky picture with some scripture out of context on it.
Or how about this one, you gotta love these. “Press like and share if you love Jesus….otherwise you’ll go to hell”. Well that’s paraphrased but I wouldn’t be suprised if theres a couple out there that say exactly that.
Now ofcourse sharing your faith is great, it’s what we do to bring the gospel to the people. It’s just how do we go about it? I for one have NEVER heard of anyone giving his or her life to Christ by seeing one of these monstrosities. Never. And we don’t seem to learn from that.

Let me put it this way. Imagine you as a child and you’re out with some family walking. You cross a railroad, your shoe gets stuck in it and wouldn’t you know it, theres a train approaching. Your father doesn’t hesitate, he jumps arcoss the rails, pushes you aside ….sadly he doesn’t make it out alive. This man sacrificed himself so that you might live.
Shocking isn’t it? And ofcourse for those of you who know the gospel I don’t need to draw the paralel to what Jesus did, it’s pretty obvious.
Now with that in mind, what would happen afterwards? You’d be deeply traumatised, it would change your life drasticly. You’d go through life feeling¬† bittersweetness between gratitude and sadness. This man has died for you, life wouldn’t be the same. It kills you day by day and yet knowing He did it out of love for you gives that spark of hope to carry on.
I don’t think this person who got saved would be posting fluffy butterfly pictures on facebook about it. I don’t think this person would be putting bumperstickers on his or her car about it. I don’t think this person would challenge you to share this story on facebook under the treath of beeing a coward if you didn’t.
This person would grow up with a deep story to tell every once in a while. Every now and then when a conversation is had over a coffee one on one. Then the story surfaces and it touches lives. It opens hearts, it makes tears flow. Deep genuine heartfelt gratitude.

There is no way, you can fit that on a postcard. And theres no way you’d prance that about like as if it was your favorite tv sitcom. There’s just no way.

He’s real, and sharing Him comes from a place of knowing Him.
We shouldn’t cheapen the high price He paid.

Come and take a swim part 2

Hello again

Last time we ended at my earliest church memories, or rather my earliest memories of hearing the gospel. A major event in my life that I would only realise it to be that many, many years later. Throughout the years growing up my respect for this character called Jesus never really went away completely eventhough I had nothing to do with church. Sure I’d forget about him for long periods of time, not even a question on my mind why excistence is. And yes there also have been moments where I was pretty blasphemous. Good golly, especially when I was a teenager (don’t most of them do that?). But then there were also brief moments where I’d state my case for Him…totally out of the blue not even knowing why. These were really interesting moments looking back now.

As a teenager I was a considered a Goth kid. However I was more of a fantasy roleplaying game nerd dressed in a long raincoat and combat boots, and this was even way before Goth was a “thing”. Some people knew the word, but for some reason they thought it was a diffirent word for hippies…sure why not. Oh there was also this one=> I was suposidly the leader of a cult according to some guy…ah kids can be harsh…and stupid.

Anyway getting back to making a case for Jesus. At some point between the many jabs and taunts people would throw at me this one arose: “You look like Jesus in a bathrobe”. Because of the long hair and raincoat, hah good one. Somehow I didn’t know any better then to respond “why thank you, it’s an honour to be compared to Him, because it’s Jesus and of all people none is higher then him” or something allong those lines. She was a bit dumbfounded by this. Thinking back, so am I,…how in the world did I come up with a response like that?

Or this one, at some point during class one of our teachers said sort of mocking “Hah, you kids these days, none of you are Godfearing” (wel actually she said “Godvruchtig” which means able to bear the fruits of God). Somehow I felt like making a case out of this, so I spoke up loud and clear.

“I am”

She: “I don’t believe you”

me: “I know I am”.

End of argument. The class was awkwardly silent after that…

And this one (as I write it all comes back to me) we had finals and everybody was stressing their hinders off, trying to come up with creative responses to the teachers their challenges. One of the tasks was to paint love. Yeah that’s vague huh, that’s art school for ya.

Somehow, I felt the urge to paint Jesus on the cross, and so I did. Even under protest from the teacher, she thought it was sappy. But I was determined, I was gonna paint Jesus with light around Him and for some reason a flag that said “blues”.

Now I can wear these memories with some pride but I’d be lying if I left out my less glorious artschool endeavours. Like at some point I had the “brilliant” idea to paint Jesus surrounded by some strippers and prostitutes doing their jobs around the cross…it wasn’t my intention to depict Jesus as the Lord who loves everybody regardless of their background, it was to mock him. Luckely a teacher stopped me from doing that. If any of you reading this thinks of this as sensorchip of the arts or the expressions of a young man. I can asure you that I’m glad the teacher did. You know how sometimes years later you whish you could take something back you said to someone? Wel yes, that exactly.

So these are just some of my funny memories growing up and walking a fine line between a rebel and a minister of the gospel (without even beeing aware of it). This story is far from done. We’ll get to the ranting later, I’ll post my rants as they come in between.

Wel mah little fishies, that’s it for today. As I said last time, small bites, I don’t wanna overfeed (bore) you guys to death.

Have a gud one!

Come and take a swim part 1 (introduction)

Hello

And welcome to this new blog called Angry Fish Rants. “Ok that sounds kind of cute…” you might think to yourself “…what’s the catch?”.

It’s about Christianity. *ducks for cover* Ok settle down, settle down,… it’s going to be rants about church culture “aaah, now we’re talking” that’s what I thought.

Allow me to sort of introduce myself and give a little background for this blog. I’m a west european man, raised in a what is considered a normal family for our culture and I had a pretty average youth. Yes I too pulled pranks at school, tried to peek down the girls their blouses and thought matthematics was about as boring and useles as listening to a catholic preaching on tv sunday morning (seriously who watches those things?). I grew up on the country side, going to a small school where a short prayer right before lunch was about as spiritual as a day would get…and at the same time, again, about as boring and useless as it could get to me. I was that kid in the back making faces while everybody else had their heads bowed down. Heck I even remember doing that while they were praying for my grandmother who just passed away…yeah schoolprayer didn’t really strike me as important…at all.

The only times I went to church was on christmass and easter which was a school activity. We didn’t do confesionals or anything it was more a time for reflection I guess. I used it as a time to check out those wicked cool paintings that sometimes had something awesome like a sword in it. That or make smalltalk with my neighbour.

However I do have one sincere memory of going to one of those old generation churches. My parents took me at a really young age for about a few times. My parents aren’t strict believers or church attendees at all. Back then it was just something that was done, the pastor was known to be an extremely kind man who was married to his housemaid. And generally speaking he was a loving person and also kind of popular actually. All the local people from the small town would gather and participate in the whole “here have a Body of christ-coockie” ritual. One day though the preacher explained the cross, the bare essentials. And eventhough I was too young to understand how it all worked, I knew one thing. I had immense respect for this Jesus fella. Because what He did applied to me and I owed him that much. That beeing said, the road had only begun and much was still ahead.

 

And with that my story is far from done, but I’ll leave it there because I wanna feed mah fishes in little bits n pieces so they don’t get overfed.

Have gud one!