Skip to main content

Jesus is just alright

Aararat’s finest, Freefalling, has asked for my opinion on Hillsong. As a fellow who professes no faith of a religious sort (but plenty in the potential goodness of rational thought), I feel that my best response is to restate that wouldn’t even consider attending the church until they book wonder band Sonseed.

More via the Intertubes:


I will add the comment that the Hillsong crowd, primarily young people, make me a little uncomfortable. Teens that embrace religion with unbridled enthusiasm independent of a) familial pressure; b) trauma of some kind; or c) chasing the hope of love (or something far filthier) kind of freak me out. I've never had the call, so I'm probably not qualified to comment. I was always far more interested in footy, reading books, and looking at girls to go to reflect on my relationship with some allegedly omnipotent and omniscient being. Good luck to ‘em I guess, but I would remind them to please not go on and on and on about it. It’s boring and it's rude.

Comments

freefalling said…
No mate, Jesus wouldn't be your friend if he heard that song.

Yes Kris, but....
you're good with words and thoughts and stuff - but what is it???
I can't put my finger on it - why exactly is it that they make you feel uncomfortable (coz that's how I feel too)?

Oh God - now on tv, they are talking about an Abstinence University (I think they are missing the point of university!)
Miles McClagan said…
I always feel at times like this like wheeling out my "Jeebus Rocks" T-shirt...

But it means I don't get into clubs.
USelaine said…
"Salubrious". Yep, finally thought of my guilty word. I used it in my blog once, and received a proposal of marriage. Well, a contingent one anyway. "Salubrious" sounds like something you do with your tongue to an ice cream cone. Or maybe in evokes a kinship to "salacious". I remember some salubrious salaciousness in the Presbyterian youth group I attended for a couple of years. Ardent lust-crushes on camp counselors and hot, athletic boys being groomed for "leadership" we the order of the day. My earlier upbringing in a social-justice oriented Methodist family inoculated me against any real zealotry or superstition in religion. It was during this time that I discovered that some competitive male swimmers shave off all their body hair for less drag in the water.
USelaine said…
*it evokes

*were the order
Kris McCracken said…
Freefalling, I think that the very concept of an “Abstinence University” sums up why they make me feel uncomfortable beautifully. I have endeavoured to expand in last night’s post.

Miles, no t-shirts in clubs? Time have changed. I am intrigued as to your real identity Miles, have we perhaps met before? It’s doing my head in.

USelaine, I very much like the word "salubrious". Completely against its meaning, I like to think of a fat Roman laying on a couch being fed suckling pig while being fanned by exotic Egyptian maidens. He’d be called Salubrious, I think. Perhaps I read it in an Asterix book.

Does the thought of those hairless male swimmers still keep you awake at night? ;)
USelaine said…
Only when they morph into sharks,,,

Popular posts from this blog

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.