If Jesus died to forgive us, then why is there a Hell?

In Hebrew and Greek "hell" equals the Grave.
Religion warps it into something DISGUSTING!

What else would you have me CALL them- they aren't CHRISTIAN, they don't listen to his words!

Leadfoot wrote:

Frank reminds me of the seed that fell on the rock. Sprouted but no roots and withered in the sun.

Yes. It must have been exciting to experience Mass at the Vatican. However, he did not experience the joy of a relationship with God. Or, he was "disappointed with God" in some way.
God knows Frank. Let them work it out between themselves.
My prayer for Frank is Shalom (strong peace). He is a good man as far as I know.

My prayer for Frank is Shalom (strong peace). He is a good man as far as I know.

The position I have offered as mine...is stronger than any I have seen offered by anyone else here.

In Hebrew and Greek "hell" equals the Grave.
Religion warps it into something DISGUSTING!

(sorry about your stuff, btw, Leadfoot that's rough)

I stay out of these because they make me disappointed in most self described "Christians".

This is the first time you even remotely answered questions.

Care to explain why this HAD to be like pulling teeth? Just answer ******* questions!

Even if a vague answer would have been better than four pages of evasiveness.

It's simple. If you have nothing to hide, you can give a ready answer.

Well yeah, but it's still rough to get there.

In the process of alot of moving, I really never got the sense that I belonged anywhere. I had alot of being the New Weird Kid, and it was worse because my coping mechanism was to act weirder so people would at least think I was interesting. Junior high school was a load of fun. By high school I kinda blended in with the crowd, which honestly made me no less lonely.
I've always had to struggle with extreme isolation and rejection.
One year, in a Passion play (I think it was), I got to read lines for Jesus. Now, most people don't really get Jesus, I've discovered over the years. They kinda associate him with a sorta sinless faultless hero that kinda charges toward his death or something for our sake. But his character can be pretty much summed up in the words "he was in the world (and the world was made by him) and the world knew him not." A man who hasn't any place to lay his head.

I moved from my house to explore because I was disturbed with the idea that I'd sit around and watch my folks die. But it seemed like the song "The bear went over the mountain". The other side of the mountain was all that I saw. I got to see plenty of nature, butit was like I couldn't exactly ditch my car and be a part of it. The cities were stuffy, polluted, and somewhat hopeless as they were all looking for people who already had experience (what the hell kind of sense does that make? You gotta start somewhere) and who were emotionally well-adjusted. And there was nowhere to just hop off and go in to the woods, as you'd find yourself stranded. But nowhere to belong among other people either. After two trips, I kinda had only been hired for cheap gigs, and decided to move back home. I'd heard all these stories of success, and how you kinda get a good job, meet someone, and have a family and such. My big bro has this kind of life, so did my sister. Me? It seems like every job I go to, I dunno how to connect, so I just try to work harder, hoping somehow the universe will reward me with what I really want, and I get friends, family, belonging, and happiness. Instead, the boss shoves work on me, I get stressed out and isolated, and just quit. Or they offer me the wrong kind of payment. What I want is a feeling of fitting in, not more paper that I have no time to spend because I'm too busy.

I think I have found Jesus, but it doesn't matter. I'm sorry, I'm just not very happy right now. It just kinda feels like the world got me down. Yesterday my folks left, and right after, my internet went down. "Just reset the connection," right? No ummmm, the computer is cut off from the internet ( due to a virus) and all computers around it seem to be connected. I wenr to the library, and they were all like "That's nice." And I just kinda felt like it was a metaphor. Everyone else says they have everything they need, and seem to fit in. They're connected to this new normal. I'm alone and out of step. I can't be happy with someone else's normal, nor am I particularly happy with mine. I have a loving familt who unfortunately burdens me more because I honestly feel very depressed but wouldn't want to leave them with my death to deal with. But neither would I want to live alone without them. Sigh....

Dude, shut up. I'm not even talking to you.

It's nice to be so smug that you can tell people they need therapy because you have everything you want in life (or so you say, anyway). You're like some of these damned jocks that never had to think too much, and everything comes so easy for. They marry some hot lady, settle down and grow old, and never thank God for the life he's given them. So you're perfect? Then go away and stop harassing the rest of us.

But I've been in therapy. Twice. The first time, I worked it off by doing yardwork chores for the lady, and helping her clean her grounds so she could set up a coffee shop. The second time, I was in the city, and spent a good chunk of my salary talking in circles and getting no closer to the core of my unhappiness. I was hoping not to get fired because I was too depressed to function well at work. Didn't help me there, didn't help me resolve any childhood issues, yeah therapy doesn't work. But the book I was told to read, When Panic Attacks, helped me understand what grace is. I learned more from talking to real people, getting real comfort from them than all the money I spent on therapy, which was mostly just her saying "I see," and letting me talk.

He's also got a very unrealistic view of Scotland.