Sinners in the hand of an angr
Sinners in the Hands of an Angry GodI had just gotten in form milking the cows and serving breakfast to my family. It was a hot day in late June and I was already late for church. I bustled about the house gathering my belongings, my children, and just trying to look my Sunday best. My husband and two children were finally ready to go so we headed to our local church about a mile down the road. As we took out usual seats in the third pew, Minister Jonathan Edwards came steeped up to the plain podium. He began, "There is nothing between you and Hell but air..." The statement, though logical, sent shivers through my body. He continued speaking of our ignorance taking God for granted. It was only God's gentle hand that kept us from falling into the fiery pits of Hell. The illusion of our wickedness and benightedness weighing us down further and further toward damnation were streaming out of his mouth. The accusations he was making caused some to shutter at his mere words. "There are black clouds of God's wrath now hanging directly over your heads," he boomed. I sat back i
" 'Of course' I thought, 'I can still be saved! I can pray for forgiveness and mercy. A pang of guilt was stabbing me in the heart as I tried to hold back tears. It was a time of awakening, a time to restart out lives and relive our faith. " Sweat ran down his face as he pounded on his bible that sat in front of him. His expression and voice had changed. I had committed so many sins and crimes, some of them unintentional. I began sobbing, praying for redemption and forgiveness. The minister went on by telling to us how others in Massachusetts were being born again. The minister paid no attention to the hysteria he was creating and continued to rant and rave. "The bow of God's wrath is bent, and the arrow is made ready on the string, and justice bends the arrow at your heart and strains the bow, and it is nothing but the pure pleasure of God, that of an angry God," Jonathan Edwards roared. Edwards paused momentarily, looking about the hysterical church, wiping his forehead. "What would not those poor damned, helpless souls give for just one day's opportunity such as you now enjoy. Tears streamed down my reddened cheeks, my hands were flying in frenzy.
Common topics in this essay:
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Angry God,
stabbing heart,
jonathan edwards,
god's wrath,
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