Scenes From a Sunday Morning

While the kids eat chocolate peanut butter toast
and sit way too close to the TV watching My Friends Tigger and Pooh,
Steve and I talk about my rather strong reaction to a certain televangelist that I watched this morning (on no less than 3 channels concurrently).
I'm re-reading The Ragamuffin Gospel, by Brennan Manning
and the televangelist's message doesn't jive with my favorite reformed-alcoholic ex-priest's message.

"Here's what it boils down to," says Steve, my husband, my pastor, my friend.

"Some people will say that the gospel tells us that no matter how bad we think we are, we are actually worse. But for all that, at the same time, no matter what we think of God's love, He loves us more than we can ever imagine or know. Nothing we do will cause God to love us more; nothing we do will cause God to love us less.

Other people think that the gospel message is this: No matter how bad we think we are, we actually aren't that bad, and if we just try a little bit harder, God will show us the love we know we want and think we deserve."

It's the first one.
The first one.