A Progressive Minister—with a Twist

I call myself a progressive minister, but not in the typical sense. I believe the heart of the gospel is love—plain and simple. It's not about measuring up, because even on our best days, none of us do.

The message I see in scripture isn't one of fear or condemnation, but of assurance: that our well-being has already been provided for, not because we earned it, but because we’re loved. Still, human nature being what it is, we often make this critical error—we view other people's flaws as unforgivable, while giving ourselves a pass.

So yes, I’m a progressive minister—with a twist.

Take hell, for instance. I don’t believe it’s a real, literal place. But I choose to live my life in such a way that if it were, I wouldn't be heading there. Not out of fear, but out of principle.

There are denominations that insist baptism must be performed using the specific phrase "in the name of Jesus" or it doesn’t count. I don’t subscribe to that legalism—but for the record, I was baptized in Jesus’ name.

Others believe that speaking in tongues is the only proof you’re saved. I don't agree with that either. Still, I speak in tongues. See the pattern? I don’t follow doctrine blindly, but neither do I throw away the spirit behind it.

I believe in the sovereign hand of God—not as some puppet master pulling strings, but as a divine presence guiding us, even redeeming our worst mistakes. We’re not pawns, though. We’re responsible.

We still suffer the fallout of our poor choices. In that way, I do believe in judgment—not eternal punishment, but consequences. Earthly reaping. You sow bitterness, it’ll find its way back. You plant love, it comes full circle. Karma, chickens coming home to roost, the law of the harvest—it’s all the same truth in different languages.

That’s how I live my life: trying to do more good than bad, knowing full well I’ll reap what I sow, good or bad.

At my core, I carry a worldview that always includes a cushion—a hedge against the unknown. In the secular world, I’ve built a life I’m proud of. I’ve got a stable job, we live comfortably, we drive new cars. But I also keep three used ones. We have an investment property with a month-to-month tenant—just in case.

Maybe it’s because I lived so recklessly in my youth. Now, I try to thrive, but wisely. I don’t take wild chances anymore. I live consciously, I love deliberately, and I always make sure my family is going to be alright.

And here’s the thing—I don’t preach theory. That’s what most religious leaders do. Whether preacher, rabbi, or imam, they mostly speculate. They teach theory wrapped in tradition. But me? I talk about what I know works. I try to approach faith like a scientist: reasonably, honestly, and experientially.

As for the Creator, I don’t claim to fully understand. But I believe in a higher force, not because I was taught to, but because I’ve lived long enough to see the patterns. You put a wet saltine cracker in an aquarium, and in a few days, green life shows up. That mold can't comprehend you, its creator, anymore than we can comprehend the fullness of whatever created us. But the fact remains (to me)—we were created, somehow. The Big Bang would be when it all started... for us.

Now, about hell again—from a quantum physics standpoint, maybe there's a version of reality where something like hell exists. Another dimension? A multiverse could theoretically contain all outcomes. I don’t pretend to know. So I live my life to be covered, however it plays out.

I don’t walk around judging people. But I do walk carefully, trying not to offend, trying to bring more peace than pain. I hold space for mystery, and I try to be kind. That, to me, is what real faith looks like.