Editor’s note: Josh’s “Part 1” discussion began last week.  If you’d like to start at the beginning, you may go HERE.  Thanks.~

I want to make the disclaimer that I do not think I have cornered the market on the Truth with a capital T. I get nervous around people who talk a lot about the Truth, and I certainly don’t want to make you nervous as well. There is a strong possibility that after I die, I could discover that I was completely off from the get go. My guess is that some truth may lie somewhere between in the dialectical tension between where I am theologically and where I came from. Who knows?

Please feel free to test, probe, critique, agree, disagree, heck, even deconstruct my deconstructed ideas. What I’m looking for is simply a constructive dialogue. Conversion to my side of thinking is not the goal. Conversation is. So come join me and lets tell our stories and ask questions and dive into the divine conundrum together.

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I was six years old the first time I got saved. While helping my mother iron clothes, I accidentally burned my hand on the glowing red metal. As my mom wrapped a towel of ice cubes around my throbbing hand, she matter-of-fact said, “You know, Josh, this is what hell will feel like.”

Looking down at my blistering fingers, I immediately retorted in breathy panic, “Well, I don’t want to go to hell then!” Moments later, as ice cubes melted across my throbbing fingers, I prayed to ask Jesus into my heart. That night I slept soundly. The thought of heaven was like a medicinal balm that soothed and cooled my burning soul. And what I carried around inside of me for many years afterward was the notion that the Jesus story was about saving people from something bad after death and for something good after death.

Continue reading Deconstructing My Christianized Self, Part 2 →