Monday, September 12, 2011


I grow weary of a certain example of how not to live.

By what sensibility should one call oneself a Christian and go to church to console oneself about lack of control, to learn to live sensibly and to gain entry through heaven's gates? As if church were some pity party where people who are hard on their luck go, as if it were some kind of after-life insurance policy. As if this life were some kind of ticket booth where we get in line to buy tickets for heaven by going to church.

It doesn't make any sense at all.
One should go to church because one is Christian and one believes in God.
It's not supposed to be a social gathering, even if it looks, smells, sounds, feels and tastes like one.

But I am not Christian, so what the hell do I know.

He tells me that people who don't go to church will go to hell.

Well, that may be true, but I think there's a worse hell for people who pretend to go to church in order to buy heaven insurance.

On the other side, I have found a near stranger who's life is a better example.

Who has worked in many countries, and quit his high-paying job on moral grounds. Who has accepted positions in France and Germany on the condition that "my wife gets a job too". Who has played in social soccer clubs, bred dogs, and raised plants, lived on a farm, and now lives in a waterfront apartment. Who has been offered a "boy's vacation" but brings his wife because "it wouldn't be any fun without my best friend". Who has decided to work again because "I thought it was probably about time I left the house". Who looks like he has fun every day.

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