One of my coworkers told me today that on his way back from lunch, he heard a preacher say on the radio that Pope John Paul II was in hell right then.

I know for a fact that Pope John Paul II wasn't in hell right then. He was in a bed in the Vatican, still alive. Some faux pas, huh?

Even still, no Christian has any business saying something like that. Never. Even after the person's death actually is confirmed.

Yep, I've got another pet peeve. Last weekend I wrote about passing "Christian" judgment.

This week I'd like to talk about another favorite tool of the fundamentalist: so-called "Christian Love," which, when it has the qualifier, often is anything but.

"I think if we were given the Scriptures, it was not so that we could prove that we were right about everything. If we were given the Scriptures, it was to humble us into realizing that God is right, and the rest of us are just guessing." -- Rich Mullins, famed Christian singer/songwriter

So, let's say you decide another Christian might be subjecting his/her self to too much temptation. You don't know that this someone else is sinning, mind you. You just suspect this other person's actions might make this person tempted to sin. So you pull this person aside, forbid this person from doing whatever it is that might lead to temptation, justify yourself to yourself and this other person by saying you read the Bible, and then go on your merry way.

I am Lutheran. Lutheran in both senses. Dad was Lutheran because his mother was Lutheran and she was Lutheran because her grandparents were Lutheran when they got off the boat in Philadelphia. But that's not the end of my Lutheran background--my ancestry hits Baron Jost Hans Hite (Heydt) at least twice.

But I'm not a Lutheran just because my forefathers were Lutheran. I left the church, and at 22 found myself at another church that I sensed was teaching things that were wrong, but I wasn't sure why. So I read the Bible cover to cover trying to find out why. And in the end, I realized the Lutheran explanation of all this stuff made more sense than anyone else's.

So here's my take on the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod's much publicized convention.

I've been thinking about Mel Gibson's upcoming The Passion of Christ. It's hard not to, with all the publicity drummed up about it, and my church bought two showings of it on opening week and me finding out today that we've already sold all of our tickets.

I believe the controversy is misplaced, but I don't want to dissuade the people who are up in arms about the movie. Keep talking about it. Keep drawing attention to it. That only means that more people will talk about it, and more people will see it. And talking about it and seeing it is exactly what Mel Gibson wants. And talking about Him is exactly what Jesus wanted.

The rest of this post is for the rest of you.

A lot of Christians today are really wrapped up in the so-called "end times" issues. It's a natural curiosity, and in a way, healthy. Jesus told us to be ready for it.

One of the seminarians from my church pointed me to a Christian pop-culture magazine this past week: Relevant.

Tomorrow night in Bible study, I'm going to cover Mark 5:21-41. Since I actually put some work into preparing and actually wrote something halfway substantial for probably the first time this year, I thought I'd share it here.

I want to ask those of you in the audience who are pastors or who are leaders within your church--because I know there are a number of you--a question about singles' ministry.

One evening early in March--the first really nice day of the year, as I recall--my doorbell rang. My girlfriend was coming over that night, but I didn't expect her for another 45 minutes or so. I looked out the window and saw two guys in their early 20s, wearing black dress pants, white shirts, ties, and engraved nametags.