Tag Archive | hate

“Christians are getting what they deserve.”

“They’re getting what they deserve.”

That’s what a good friend of mine told me after reading my post on Monday. You can read that here.

“I see the point of your blog,” he said, “but my view is that if Christianity hadn’t spent hundreds of years hurting and killing people, robbing people of their rights, forcing their views down people’s throats, objecting against every civil rights movement since the birth of the nation…”

He continued. His point was that Christians have spent centuries persecuting others, yet they are the first ones to cry Woe is me, when they are mocked or poorly treated.

You did it to yourself, in other words.

Here is what I didn’t say in response: “How dare you. Christians have walked perfectly in the footsteps of Christ from the moment he disappeared into the clouds. It’s the atheists that have done all the damage.”

I didn’t say that because it isn’t true.

The Crusades, the murdering of “heretics”, witch hunts, the endorsement of slavery and inequality all fall in the lap of the Christian church. Thousands of people have died at the hands of the religious. This is fact. Read More…

Words Kill People

It was fifth grade and I was the new kid at school. I was sitting about three rows back and a girl in the front turned and looked in my direction.

“Do you hear that?” she said. Not sure if she was talking to me, I shook my head confused. Looking in my eyes, she smiled. “I think I hear a Twinkie calling your name.”

The class erupted, and she just turned around like nothing happened. I sat there horrified for the rest of the day. Another time, she asked if I had been outside with my shirt off recently. “My Mom and I were driving the other day and I thought I saw you. It was disgusting to look at,” she said.

“Not me,” I told her. I was lying. I knew exactly what she was talking about.

She wasn’t the only one to tease me. Several people wanted a piece of the fat kid in class. I remember begging my mom to let me stay home from school. “You’re not fat, Son,” she would tell me, honestly believing it. But I knew better. They were right, and I was a mess.

I changed schools my sixth grade year, becoming the new kid once again. This is a terrifying experience for anyone, but all I could think was, “Am I gonna be the fat kid here too?”

I was, and people quickly began reminding me, in case I had forgotten. I learned something that year. I’d like to say it was to ignore the teasing or to pray for my enemies. Nope.

Read More…

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