TRUTH BE TOLD!

God. Does. Not. Punish. Never, ever! "God is Good!" first announced Sunday by a kind primary Sunday School teacher, became an early imprint. I learned that He is love.  We'd recite, "God is love!" as our teacher nodded approval.  A tough concept to accept unless you're a five-year-old who believes everything the teacher pronounces.  Years later, probably during 11 A.M., worship services, the picture of God changed: He became a "Fire and Brimstone" mean man, breathing out fiery flames and stinking, sulfurous bonfires of punishment and vengeance for slight and heavy offenses alike.

This profile of God would as easily send me to the burning pit for fighting or fibbing.   Now, I realize that, subtly, I internalized Him as a cruel and firebreathing Gandolfo, exacting revenge, indiscriminately. I didn't know it as a preteen,  but the God introduced to me in Sunday worship had become the Great Arbiter I must take care not to cross.

No wonder I came to see God as the judge who walked softly but carried a big stick! With which He'd whack me whether on my head or any places his bludgeon landed.  He set such unattainable standards that only the most pious could attain: like, pastors, ministers, deacons, evangelists, and members on the Mothers Board.  No way I could---when all I wanted to do was master the art of cursing like my favorite aunt, who wore blood-red nail polish and makeup she didn't try to conceal.

Thinking I could second guess Him, though, I began judging myself first, so that my self-punishment would suffice. What else was I to do? I couldn't imagine how hot the fire had to be to burn forever!  Unaware of other forms of penance until much later, I tried to keep an accurate ledger of my misdoings.  Really, it wasn't until I read about the pilgrims of the Colonial Era, or about Hester Prynne, wearer of the notorious "A" pendant in literature,  that my horizons expanded.

By then, though, I didn't need ideas because I'd become quite inventive in meting out self-mortification.  As long as I did it before Gandolfo! To say I suffered harsh and unwarranted penitence that had its genesis in my mind understates the gravity of this contrived and contorted system of justice.  For years, I lived a life of contradictions.

Hallelujah, Lord! I once was blind but now I see. No, I didn't experience a Saul-on-the-road-to-Damascus encounter.  Yet, slowly but surely I allowed the Holy Spirit who lives within me to open my mind, heart, and spirit to His amazing grace and truth.  He used neither rules nor reasoning.  Rather,

"Amazing grace! how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now am found, Was blind, but now I see.?

"Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come; 'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, And grace will lead me home."

"When we've been there ten thousand years, Bright shining as the sun, We've no less days to sing God's praise, Than when we'd first begun."