“I love you and have a wonderful plan for your life,” He says, a tear spilling down His cheek. “Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to kill you.”

“WHAT? KILL ME? WHY?” you ask, falling to your knees, trembling in His Very Presence.

“Because of what they did.”

“They?”

“You know, my first two.”

“Your first two? You mean Adam and Eve?”

“Yeah, them.”

“Let me get this straight. You love me and have a wonderful plan for my life, but you’re going to have to kill me because of what they did a zillion years ago?”

“Correct. Only it was more like 6,000 years ago. I don’t go in for that evolution/carbon-dating crap. And it’s not only you. Everyone has to die.”

“You gotta be kidding! That doesn’t sound fair to me – blaming me and everyone else for a crime someone else committed. And besides, what they did with that forbidden fruit thing doesn’t exactly sound like it’s deserving capital punishment. I mean, murder might deserve the death penalty, but eating bad fruit?”

“Well, it does. And don’t get so smug. You’ve sinned just like my first two. All have sinned and fallen short of my glory.”

“Well, yeah I can dig that, but…the death penalty? I mean, I know I’ve done some bad stuff, but nothing so bad that…”

“It doesn’t matter. Didn’t you read that part that says if you sin in one part of the law, you’ve broken it all? I put that in there just for people like you who think you should get off the hook because you’re basically good. Well, kid, it’s kinda like a taxi meter. You go 1/16th of a mile, you pay for the whole mile. One size fits all.  Telling a lie is as bad as stealing – or murder – or even worse, not being baptized by immersion. You, my child – whom I love and have a wonderful plan for – are a lawbreaker. You are condemned to an eternity separated from me – in hell where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

“Jeesh!”

“I am Light and in me there is no darkness at all. If I were to accept your sinful self and let you into my presence, my righteousness would be spoiled by your sin – sort of like one bad apple spoils the whole barrel. Then the light would go out and total darkness would prevail. Can’t have that now, can we?”

“Well, I suppose not. But isn’t there some way you can make this turn out better? I mean, you are You!”

“Yes, I AM. And yes, there is a way out. In fact, I love you so much I sent my Son to die in your place – to be your substitute – to pay your penalty and satisfy my wrath. Kinda like what the Aztecs used to do – sacrificing their kids – for their god Huitzilopochtli. Try saying that three times fast.”

“You mean you believe in human sacrifice as the way to satisfy the anger of the gods?”

“No, not those gods. They’re fakes. Just Me, Myself and I – you know, the Holy Trinity – the one True Me.”

“God, I’m getting confused!”

“You are getting confused? How do you think I feel? I never should’ve started studying theology!”

“You mean all these crazy ideas are not really yours?”

“Well, it’s sorta like 1 part ME, 99 parts old men with their panties in a bunch.”

“Jeesh! You had me worried there for a minute!”

___________

So, dear reader, if all this death, blood, wrath, and hell stuff that religious people throw around confuses you, you’re in good company.

Seems to me like the first step in surviving The Fall is asking yourself if our long-loved traditions actually make any real sense. Which parts are truly inspired by God? What parts are human concoctions? How can we know the difference?

Maybe it’s time for all of us to take a fresh look at what salvation – and faith – really means.

You up for that?

‘Til next time…