Skip to main content

A Brief Discussion With Mathew



Matthew 16:19:
"And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."

What of this verse?

(What of it do you desire to know?)

Does this not mean that the (H)eartH and the Heart(H) are Heaven and that Heaven is the HeartH, everything and all, known and unknown?

(Umm? What?)

Isn't the verse saying that the kingdom of Heaven is the Heart(H) and (H)eartH, the HeartH, and are equally bound by one another, bound by our creations upon it?

(It means that God shall give us the keys to Heaven if we will but believe in Him.)

But it says whatsoever shall we create on earth, we shall find in heaven, doesn't it?

(Yes, but-)

No buts. That's what it says. It says that whatsoever we loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. It means what it says. It means that they are a reflection of one another.

(That's taking the verse out of context.)

No. It's taking the verse literally.

(But the context is important.)

Then how about the verse preceding Mathew 16:19?

(Okay.)

Mathew 16:18:
"And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."

Sounds like Jesus was telling Peter that God's church was the rock, the (H)eartH.

(I believe it was just a big rock that he was referring to.)

To humankind there is no bigger rock than the one beneath their feet.

(True.)

Then there's the verse that follows 16:19?

(Mathew 16:20.)

Yes.

"Then charged he his disciples that they should tell no man that he was Jesus the Christ."

(Correct.)

Okay. Then the context is found more in Mathew 16:18, right?

(Yes.)

Then it is quite possible that Jesus was telling Peter that the (H)eartH was the humankind's original altar.

(Okay.)

And that whatever humankind created of it would come from their beliefs.

(Wow! Would you look at the time? I hate to cut our conversation short, scribbler, but I've got to go, I'm late for an appointment! God bless you!)

And you, kind spirit, God bless you. Peace, my friend...

(Yip!)

[-The man quickly exits. Scribe reflects for a moment.-]

The door of thought slams shut, its echo stays within us both, my friend. Godspeed.

[Silence...]

© 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

ROOT OF

"For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs." __1 Timothy 6:10 It is MONEY, not the LOVE of it that is the issue, the true problem. Love, in and of itself, is never a problem, WANT and NEED, or better yet- the WANT and the conundrum of its very REQUIREMENT for our survival IS the problem, it's creation and our blind use of it is logically the ROOT. In other words, let's leave LOVE out of it altogether and deal with the facts instead. If money were not made by us as a requirement for our survival, we'd find ourselves in a much better position to argue of its need and our want of it. MRP Peace and Love © 2015 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
32 comments
read the poem

Access to...

It's odd to me that the future is accessible to God, but we're stuck with remembering the past, it's untenable. History repeats itself from our obsession with it. I say leave history where it is and instead create something of a present worth repeating.  © 2015 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem