I have been off, in my wanderings, looking into different possibilities about God. Mostly talking about God creating Time. What a spiritual realm consists of. And how to resolve the Problem of suffering. It is rather long, and fairly boring. I wouldn’t bother reading it if you are at all sleepy:
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
When we start a lawsuit, we have a period of “Discovery” which is exactly what it sounds like—I discover what witness, documents and testimony the other side will bring, and they equally discover the same about my position. There is no more “Trial by Surprise” anymore. (Although it really only reduces surprise, not eliminate it by any stretch.)
Before I debate, I like to “discover” what their position is. Not so much to avoid strawpeople, (my new PC term) but to actually communicate with a person as to what their particular belief is. Just saying you are a “Christian” is not very limiting. That means a whole variety of things from Catholic to Liberal to Charismatic to Mormon to Calvinist. And anything else, besides.
Admittedly, it is frustrating when the “Constant Fight” light is on, and the other person wants to pick apart every single possible item conceivable. “You are arguing against the Presuppositionalist position of the Missouri Synod of 1952, and I am of the Presuppositionalist position of the Indiana Conference of 1942. Second division.”
Give us a break, will ya? This may come as a surprise, but I have not memorized every position, every nuance, every offshoot branch of each and every God that has come out of the Tanakh!
And even then, it is better than the:
“Nope, that is not what I believe.”
“Nope, don’t believe that either.”
”Not my belief.”
“Nor is that.”
Do me a favor—tell me what you DO believe! Please. The constant guessing game begins to feel exactly like a New York Three Care Monte.
“Nope, wrong card.”
“Nope, wrong card.”
“Nope, wrong card.”
I am sure it is part of my presentation (and maybe even my reputation) but people get their hackles up when all I want to do is make sure I know what the heck they are talking about.
So much of the internet debate on theism has become “Who can win?” and less of “How do we believe differently?” And parties on every side of every issue are equally to blame.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Friday, October 13, 2006
Stuck on You
Ever feel stuck?
I have a confession to make that very few know about me. (Ahh, the anonymity of the ‘net.) I have a condition known as Brown’s Syndrome. Essentially, certain small muscles around my left eye swell, vastly reducing the range my eye can move. Of course my right eye continues to move just fine, resulting in double vision when I look in certain directions. (Up.)
It is intermittent. Which means it can come on in the middle of the night and either disappear by morning or be with me for a week. It can last five months, a day, or not affect me for a year.
It is a good reminder of what it means to be “stuck.”
(Humorous side note. You know you have a fun condition when the titles of your doctors get longer and longer. I went from an optimist to an ophthalmologist to a neuro-ophthalmologist. Nothing like having the head of the eye department of a local hospital network ask if you could come back tomorrow so he can have his students examine you as well, as they are never likely to see such a pronounced example of your situation. Greeaaattt!)
All of us are stuck at times. Stuck by our employment. Stuck by our location. Stuck by our church, our family, our marriage, our children, our medical conditions. Stuck by life.
In my practice two scenarios come vividly to mind.
There are times I deal with juveniles or teenagers that commit crimes. I am placed in the position of informing their parents that these young men will be serving prison time for many years. Or be in juvenile detention for years. I watch these parents’ lives crushed.
They would do anything to take the place of their sons. They worked hard to provide and love their sons, yet in a moment—in an instant of a bad decision--their lives are changed. They are stuck.
The second circumstance is domestic violence. I see these women, abused by their husbands, yet refusing to leave them out of a fear of financial or emotional deprivation. In the constant paradox of hate/love of a man who beats them, yet later hugs them. They too, are stuck.
Face it—it stinks to be stuck.
When I get Brown’s Syndrome, eventually there comes a moment, a time where, with a visible “Pop” my eye begins to move freely. Oh, what a relief! To see again without double vision. To look up, down, right and left and not worry about that annoying view; not worry, “Will it stay this way? Is this it?”
All of us that are stuck are looking for that “Pop.” That moment where we feel free. The breeze on our face, the sun in our eyes, and the bright anticipation of the future, rather than the dread of tomorrow.
The internet has changed all of our lives. We can now talk to someone in Singapore or Paris with just a few clicks on the keyboard. Looking for a domestic abuse group? Google will bring up hundreds. We can now talk to others who are completely dissimilar to us, or exactly like us. We can find people that have the same problems, the same stuckness we have. I imagine I can find others with Brown’s Syndrome if I looked.
It is here that—for a second—we can unstick ourselves.
We can assume silly monikers like “DagoodS” or “Flaming Hot Rod” or “Bunch o’ Fun” or whatever we want. We can argue, we can laugh, we can love, we can get into grudges, even! Isn’t it amazing to watch people that become personally involved with “Cranky Pete” and actually spend more time focused on exacting revenge on an unknown user from Arizona, rather than their own lives!
It is here that we can release those anxieties and communicate and find a respite from the everyday stickiness.
I have another confession to make—I have never met, in person, a deconvert. Oh, I have met atheists. Not ones that want to talk about God, of course, since it would be as silly (to them) as talking about Santa Claus not being real. John W. Loftus was recently in a debate, and had it been closer to my locale, I hoped to attend and meet him. Literally, just to meet another deconvert.
While I hope to meet one in real life some day (sounds like we should be in a zoo, doesn’t it? *chuckle*) at the moment it is enough to have a chance to interact on-line.
To all of us that feel “stuck” at the moment, I hope we appreciate the fact we have others that we can communicate with through this medium. I have many people going through my mind that I wish I could hop in my car and drive to their house to have a coffee with them. I can’t. So, for right now, the ‘net will have to do.
I know we all feel stuck in some way. I hope we realize, like my pesky Brown’s Syndrome, that it is intermittent. That someday, it will “pop” and we will no longer be stuck.
I have a confession to make that very few know about me. (Ahh, the anonymity of the ‘net.) I have a condition known as Brown’s Syndrome. Essentially, certain small muscles around my left eye swell, vastly reducing the range my eye can move. Of course my right eye continues to move just fine, resulting in double vision when I look in certain directions. (Up.)
It is intermittent. Which means it can come on in the middle of the night and either disappear by morning or be with me for a week. It can last five months, a day, or not affect me for a year.
It is a good reminder of what it means to be “stuck.”
(Humorous side note. You know you have a fun condition when the titles of your doctors get longer and longer. I went from an optimist to an ophthalmologist to a neuro-ophthalmologist. Nothing like having the head of the eye department of a local hospital network ask if you could come back tomorrow so he can have his students examine you as well, as they are never likely to see such a pronounced example of your situation. Greeaaattt!)
All of us are stuck at times. Stuck by our employment. Stuck by our location. Stuck by our church, our family, our marriage, our children, our medical conditions. Stuck by life.
In my practice two scenarios come vividly to mind.
There are times I deal with juveniles or teenagers that commit crimes. I am placed in the position of informing their parents that these young men will be serving prison time for many years. Or be in juvenile detention for years. I watch these parents’ lives crushed.
They would do anything to take the place of their sons. They worked hard to provide and love their sons, yet in a moment—in an instant of a bad decision--their lives are changed. They are stuck.
The second circumstance is domestic violence. I see these women, abused by their husbands, yet refusing to leave them out of a fear of financial or emotional deprivation. In the constant paradox of hate/love of a man who beats them, yet later hugs them. They too, are stuck.
Face it—it stinks to be stuck.
When I get Brown’s Syndrome, eventually there comes a moment, a time where, with a visible “Pop” my eye begins to move freely. Oh, what a relief! To see again without double vision. To look up, down, right and left and not worry about that annoying view; not worry, “Will it stay this way? Is this it?”
All of us that are stuck are looking for that “Pop.” That moment where we feel free. The breeze on our face, the sun in our eyes, and the bright anticipation of the future, rather than the dread of tomorrow.
The internet has changed all of our lives. We can now talk to someone in Singapore or Paris with just a few clicks on the keyboard. Looking for a domestic abuse group? Google will bring up hundreds. We can now talk to others who are completely dissimilar to us, or exactly like us. We can find people that have the same problems, the same stuckness we have. I imagine I can find others with Brown’s Syndrome if I looked.
It is here that—for a second—we can unstick ourselves.
We can assume silly monikers like “DagoodS” or “Flaming Hot Rod” or “Bunch o’ Fun” or whatever we want. We can argue, we can laugh, we can love, we can get into grudges, even! Isn’t it amazing to watch people that become personally involved with “Cranky Pete” and actually spend more time focused on exacting revenge on an unknown user from Arizona, rather than their own lives!
It is here that we can release those anxieties and communicate and find a respite from the everyday stickiness.
I have another confession to make—I have never met, in person, a deconvert. Oh, I have met atheists. Not ones that want to talk about God, of course, since it would be as silly (to them) as talking about Santa Claus not being real. John W. Loftus was recently in a debate, and had it been closer to my locale, I hoped to attend and meet him. Literally, just to meet another deconvert.
While I hope to meet one in real life some day (sounds like we should be in a zoo, doesn’t it? *chuckle*) at the moment it is enough to have a chance to interact on-line.
To all of us that feel “stuck” at the moment, I hope we appreciate the fact we have others that we can communicate with through this medium. I have many people going through my mind that I wish I could hop in my car and drive to their house to have a coffee with them. I can’t. So, for right now, the ‘net will have to do.
I know we all feel stuck in some way. I hope we realize, like my pesky Brown’s Syndrome, that it is intermittent. That someday, it will “pop” and we will no longer be stuck.
I didn't mean it.
Often we are confronted by people who are aghast at the notion of no after-life. No God. “How can you have any meaning to your life?” they wail.
To be honest, I do not recall the idea of “meaning” as even crossing my mind during my deconversion. (Lo, these two years hence.) At that time I was struggling with even the notion there was no Christian God, or if there was a God what it looked like, and if I picked the wrong one what the consequences would be.
Probably the closest I ever came to being concerned about losing my “meaning” in life, is my fear of getting the wrong “meaning.” What if I picked wrong and it turned out that the “meaning” in my life was to give some God glory by eternally roasting? Yikes!
But I never remember a moment of saying, “Gee, if I head down this path I will lose some ultimate meaning.”
As humans, we are so focused on our lives. I am at that stage where I am worried about daughter’s dating, future college expenses, house repairs, retirement, children activities, and whether I will retain enough hair to give it a chance to go gray before falling out.
My friends with their theistic belief, with their “ultimate meaning” have the same concerns and focus as I do. They are just as worried about their kids. About their jobs. About their marriages.
See, even with some “ultimate meaning” we have to live in the here and now. We have to replace the old tires on our vehicle, visit the doctor when we are sick, and treat our spouse to an occasional special dinner. We live.
It has been my experience that most people are not devoting much time, if any, to the concern of some ultimate meaning, or grand purpose in their life. Only in internet debates, or perhaps the rare occasion by being confronted with an individual that is unconvinced of any after-life, does the thought even seriously cross most people’s minds. At best, it is a “someday something will happen” passing reflection.
While there have been suggestions that atheists should kill themselves, I think (I hope) most theists understand that just because we are unconvinced anything happens post-mortem, does not mean we cannot enjoy life now, and therefore we are squeezing every bit of meaning out of it as possible.
However, I have noticed a change within me. I have gained a sense of urgency that I did not have before. Unwittingly, I had “settled.” I had relaxed into a position that someday, somehow, I will have time to resolve any outstanding issues. When all of eternity stretched before me—was it really that important I attempt to heal every relationship possible? Here on earth, there were only so many hours in a day, but someday, in heaven, we could spend hours and hours sorting out our difficulties, and spend the next billion years or so, laughing away.
Further, I had someone watching out over me. If I screwed it up, God could step in and fix the problem. Without my even knowing it. If I inadvertently stepped on someone’s toes, God could come up behind and give the person a pat on the back—making it all go away.
I lost both of those concepts. I no longer have the luxury of time. No longer can “someday” be the day in which I repair a friendship, heal a wound, or hug a friend. No longer do I have the Great Unraveler to restore the harms I clumsily inflict. Nope. That all falls on me. To do now.
Too many prayers have gone unanswered. Too many times Christians believe they have received a “no” from God, and are waiting on God’s timing. Too many people are relying on too much time, and some other personage to do what they should be doing.
Look, if you believe in some Ultimate Meaning, some Grand Purpose in Life, because of a God, or an after life—great! But at the moment, you are living here. Now. And there are plenty of issues, plenty of problems, plenty of joys and plenty of moments of meanings that can be relished, experienced and reveled in.
What would the world look like, if rather than resting on some Ultimate Eventuality, we all set that aside, and considered living?
To be honest, I do not recall the idea of “meaning” as even crossing my mind during my deconversion. (Lo, these two years hence.) At that time I was struggling with even the notion there was no Christian God, or if there was a God what it looked like, and if I picked the wrong one what the consequences would be.
Probably the closest I ever came to being concerned about losing my “meaning” in life, is my fear of getting the wrong “meaning.” What if I picked wrong and it turned out that the “meaning” in my life was to give some God glory by eternally roasting? Yikes!
But I never remember a moment of saying, “Gee, if I head down this path I will lose some ultimate meaning.”
As humans, we are so focused on our lives. I am at that stage where I am worried about daughter’s dating, future college expenses, house repairs, retirement, children activities, and whether I will retain enough hair to give it a chance to go gray before falling out.
My friends with their theistic belief, with their “ultimate meaning” have the same concerns and focus as I do. They are just as worried about their kids. About their jobs. About their marriages.
See, even with some “ultimate meaning” we have to live in the here and now. We have to replace the old tires on our vehicle, visit the doctor when we are sick, and treat our spouse to an occasional special dinner. We live.
It has been my experience that most people are not devoting much time, if any, to the concern of some ultimate meaning, or grand purpose in their life. Only in internet debates, or perhaps the rare occasion by being confronted with an individual that is unconvinced of any after-life, does the thought even seriously cross most people’s minds. At best, it is a “someday something will happen” passing reflection.
While there have been suggestions that atheists should kill themselves, I think (I hope) most theists understand that just because we are unconvinced anything happens post-mortem, does not mean we cannot enjoy life now, and therefore we are squeezing every bit of meaning out of it as possible.
However, I have noticed a change within me. I have gained a sense of urgency that I did not have before. Unwittingly, I had “settled.” I had relaxed into a position that someday, somehow, I will have time to resolve any outstanding issues. When all of eternity stretched before me—was it really that important I attempt to heal every relationship possible? Here on earth, there were only so many hours in a day, but someday, in heaven, we could spend hours and hours sorting out our difficulties, and spend the next billion years or so, laughing away.
Further, I had someone watching out over me. If I screwed it up, God could step in and fix the problem. Without my even knowing it. If I inadvertently stepped on someone’s toes, God could come up behind and give the person a pat on the back—making it all go away.
I lost both of those concepts. I no longer have the luxury of time. No longer can “someday” be the day in which I repair a friendship, heal a wound, or hug a friend. No longer do I have the Great Unraveler to restore the harms I clumsily inflict. Nope. That all falls on me. To do now.
Too many prayers have gone unanswered. Too many times Christians believe they have received a “no” from God, and are waiting on God’s timing. Too many people are relying on too much time, and some other personage to do what they should be doing.
Look, if you believe in some Ultimate Meaning, some Grand Purpose in Life, because of a God, or an after life—great! But at the moment, you are living here. Now. And there are plenty of issues, plenty of problems, plenty of joys and plenty of moments of meanings that can be relished, experienced and reveled in.
What would the world look like, if rather than resting on some Ultimate Eventuality, we all set that aside, and considered living?
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Putting “Fun” back in Funeral
I attended the funeral of a former pastor this week. He was of the traditional Baptist school of pastors. Hell-fire and Damnation. Could (and would) preach at the drop of a hat. Golfed. Sang not great, but loud. A little menacing.
I had the chance to see many people I haven’t seen in more years than I care to really think about. What impressed me about the funeral was the upbeat tempo. Everyone was so happy (only a few tears) about how they would see him again in Heaven. How he was waiting for the rest of the family and friends to join him. How he was getting reacquainted with those who had gone on before.
I must admit feeling that in this regard, Christianity has naturalism beat. Hands down. It felt so pleasant—this exuberant permeation of hope. This claim that eventually we will all get together again.
My college was out of state, so I flew back and forth. In college I gained the closest friend I had ever had. Each year we would look forward to the next, when we could get back together. After each break the other person was the first one we sought out when we arrived.
I remember flying out, after my graduation, and standing there in the airport, she began to cry. “For the first time, I do not have a date when I know we will see each other again.” There was a loss of hope. The unknown.
The concept of an afterlife re-introduces this hope. That “someday” we will all get together. And once together we will be side-by-side forever and ever and ever. It makes a funeral more than bearable; it makes it only a momentary “good-bye” with an expectant “hello” around the corner.
As I watched the participants in this service, I completely understood why naturalism or atheism depicts a “loss of hope” and a “meaningless, drab life” to them. They are clinging on to this idea of someday seeing their loved one, and feel that without that idea, their entire worldview would come crashing down—that a world without an afterlife is a world without hope.
Don’t get me wrong. I love the idea of a Utopia. It would be fantastic to live in a world where I could see with and be with all my friends and family. Where we could laugh, and play sports (perhaps even with young bodies, and not injury-prone, out-of-shape, overweight ones we are currently saddled with!) No more sickness. No more separation. No more economic struggles. No bad news on T.V. No worrying where one’s children are. A new Monty Python Movie every week.
As I sat there and thought about it—it really IS too good to be true. Shouldn’t all our skepticism antennas go up, thinking about how it is wonderful, and great, and neat, and every single trouble is removed—when there isn’t a lick of proof of this place?
Imagine I told you that if you provided me with just one dollar, I will return to you One Hundred Billion dollars in ten years. But there are a few catches. First you have to actually provide me with the dollar. Despite all my good intentions, and love, and desire to give you One Hundred Billion dollars, and despite the fact I have pocketfuls of dollars, you MUST give me that one dollar. Otherwise—you get nothing.
Further, you have to give me the right dollar. It has to be the right year, the right denomination, and the right country. Now, I know what that is, and I even know how you could access it, but that takes all the fun out of it, so I will give you some clues, but you are left to guess out the rest on your own. But if you deliver the correct type of dollar, at the correct time, to the correct address—man, oh, man you will have it made!
Sounds too good to be true, right? Yet that is exactly what the “bet” is with heaven.
I looked about me at people all worried about their current economic trouble, yet each assuredly happy they had paid the right dollar to the right address. Each knowing that the fact the mortgage payment was late, and the car engine was knocking wouldn’t make a difference. Because someday--someday they were going to get One Hundred Billion dollars. And because of their one dollar investment, this was only a time of trouble, soon to be forgotten
I must confess that I felt even a bit guilty, sitting at the funeral. Who am I to take all this away from Christians? Who am I to point out that the fact we have no proof of an afterlife? Who am I to take away this hope? Even if the hope is in something completely imaginary—is it harmful? Should I leave them to this Hope—as wrong as it is? Nuts, it is like appearing in a Kindergarten and dispelling the myth of Santa Claus. How cruel is that?
If it was just that, I could leave Christianity alone. But this hope comes at a terrible price. See, in order for the crowd I was in to be happy about reuniting with their loved ones and a God of Love, they also require a God of Justice. One that exacts a terrible retribution for not providing the correct dollar to the right address. For them, this is of no consequence. They will be in heaven. Their friends will be in heaven. God will somehow wipe their memory of all the people in Hell.
They will be enjoying the benefits of heaven, founded on my eternally burning body.
And is it a good thing to instill hope on a false premise? What if I told my kids that once they turned 21, they would be rich beyond their wildest dreams? Don’t worry about school. Don’t worry about jobs. Don’t worry about anything, ‘cause someday they will be rich. They may be the happiest kids in the world. Until the world comes crashing down with the realization of the opportunities lost, relying upon this false hope.
We may be inclined to excuse this belief, as it is based upon events after death. In that example, my children would be left with a harsh reality, and a long life of problems—but belief in an afterlife does not affect one’s life. If there is no afterlife—what’s the harm?
The harm is that it is not the truth. And that element of falsehood is multiplying in divisions, and acrimony, and ostracism, and exclusion, and threats and war. While people at this funeral were smiling, thinking of re-uniting with Pastor; Muslims were laughing, thinking of flying planes into buildings. Both were counting on an afterlife. Both were equally assured they had deposited the “right” dollars.
The harm is that we must live this life as if it is the only one we have. Not some “warm-up” or “test run” for an eventual Utopia. I do not have the luxury of hoping some day wars will end. I must be actively involved in eliminating them now.
I enjoy life immensely. I will be sad to let it go, but it does not give me less hope for my future, the future of my children, and the future of those about me. It is similar to attending a great party, or watching an engaging movie. As much as we enjoy the moment, we recognize that part of reality is we will reach a point of saying good-bye, or that the credits will roll. It does not lessen the enjoyment.
I hope that my funeral will be a group of people getting together, saying, “Wow, he enjoyed life.” Hopefully a few jokes, a celebration of some good times, and then a recognition that the credits rolled.
But today…deep down…I feel a little bit guilty arguing against that hope of a utopian afterlife. Today…it seems cruel. Like the moment one has to admit Santa Claus is not real. How does the person take it? Who am I to take away that hope?
I had the chance to see many people I haven’t seen in more years than I care to really think about. What impressed me about the funeral was the upbeat tempo. Everyone was so happy (only a few tears) about how they would see him again in Heaven. How he was waiting for the rest of the family and friends to join him. How he was getting reacquainted with those who had gone on before.
I must admit feeling that in this regard, Christianity has naturalism beat. Hands down. It felt so pleasant—this exuberant permeation of hope. This claim that eventually we will all get together again.
My college was out of state, so I flew back and forth. In college I gained the closest friend I had ever had. Each year we would look forward to the next, when we could get back together. After each break the other person was the first one we sought out when we arrived.
I remember flying out, after my graduation, and standing there in the airport, she began to cry. “For the first time, I do not have a date when I know we will see each other again.” There was a loss of hope. The unknown.
The concept of an afterlife re-introduces this hope. That “someday” we will all get together. And once together we will be side-by-side forever and ever and ever. It makes a funeral more than bearable; it makes it only a momentary “good-bye” with an expectant “hello” around the corner.
As I watched the participants in this service, I completely understood why naturalism or atheism depicts a “loss of hope” and a “meaningless, drab life” to them. They are clinging on to this idea of someday seeing their loved one, and feel that without that idea, their entire worldview would come crashing down—that a world without an afterlife is a world without hope.
Don’t get me wrong. I love the idea of a Utopia. It would be fantastic to live in a world where I could see with and be with all my friends and family. Where we could laugh, and play sports (perhaps even with young bodies, and not injury-prone, out-of-shape, overweight ones we are currently saddled with!) No more sickness. No more separation. No more economic struggles. No bad news on T.V. No worrying where one’s children are. A new Monty Python Movie every week.
As I sat there and thought about it—it really IS too good to be true. Shouldn’t all our skepticism antennas go up, thinking about how it is wonderful, and great, and neat, and every single trouble is removed—when there isn’t a lick of proof of this place?
Imagine I told you that if you provided me with just one dollar, I will return to you One Hundred Billion dollars in ten years. But there are a few catches. First you have to actually provide me with the dollar. Despite all my good intentions, and love, and desire to give you One Hundred Billion dollars, and despite the fact I have pocketfuls of dollars, you MUST give me that one dollar. Otherwise—you get nothing.
Further, you have to give me the right dollar. It has to be the right year, the right denomination, and the right country. Now, I know what that is, and I even know how you could access it, but that takes all the fun out of it, so I will give you some clues, but you are left to guess out the rest on your own. But if you deliver the correct type of dollar, at the correct time, to the correct address—man, oh, man you will have it made!
Sounds too good to be true, right? Yet that is exactly what the “bet” is with heaven.
I looked about me at people all worried about their current economic trouble, yet each assuredly happy they had paid the right dollar to the right address. Each knowing that the fact the mortgage payment was late, and the car engine was knocking wouldn’t make a difference. Because someday--someday they were going to get One Hundred Billion dollars. And because of their one dollar investment, this was only a time of trouble, soon to be forgotten
I must confess that I felt even a bit guilty, sitting at the funeral. Who am I to take all this away from Christians? Who am I to point out that the fact we have no proof of an afterlife? Who am I to take away this hope? Even if the hope is in something completely imaginary—is it harmful? Should I leave them to this Hope—as wrong as it is? Nuts, it is like appearing in a Kindergarten and dispelling the myth of Santa Claus. How cruel is that?
If it was just that, I could leave Christianity alone. But this hope comes at a terrible price. See, in order for the crowd I was in to be happy about reuniting with their loved ones and a God of Love, they also require a God of Justice. One that exacts a terrible retribution for not providing the correct dollar to the right address. For them, this is of no consequence. They will be in heaven. Their friends will be in heaven. God will somehow wipe their memory of all the people in Hell.
They will be enjoying the benefits of heaven, founded on my eternally burning body.
And is it a good thing to instill hope on a false premise? What if I told my kids that once they turned 21, they would be rich beyond their wildest dreams? Don’t worry about school. Don’t worry about jobs. Don’t worry about anything, ‘cause someday they will be rich. They may be the happiest kids in the world. Until the world comes crashing down with the realization of the opportunities lost, relying upon this false hope.
We may be inclined to excuse this belief, as it is based upon events after death. In that example, my children would be left with a harsh reality, and a long life of problems—but belief in an afterlife does not affect one’s life. If there is no afterlife—what’s the harm?
The harm is that it is not the truth. And that element of falsehood is multiplying in divisions, and acrimony, and ostracism, and exclusion, and threats and war. While people at this funeral were smiling, thinking of re-uniting with Pastor; Muslims were laughing, thinking of flying planes into buildings. Both were counting on an afterlife. Both were equally assured they had deposited the “right” dollars.
The harm is that we must live this life as if it is the only one we have. Not some “warm-up” or “test run” for an eventual Utopia. I do not have the luxury of hoping some day wars will end. I must be actively involved in eliminating them now.
I enjoy life immensely. I will be sad to let it go, but it does not give me less hope for my future, the future of my children, and the future of those about me. It is similar to attending a great party, or watching an engaging movie. As much as we enjoy the moment, we recognize that part of reality is we will reach a point of saying good-bye, or that the credits will roll. It does not lessen the enjoyment.
I hope that my funeral will be a group of people getting together, saying, “Wow, he enjoyed life.” Hopefully a few jokes, a celebration of some good times, and then a recognition that the credits rolled.
But today…deep down…I feel a little bit guilty arguing against that hope of a utopian afterlife. Today…it seems cruel. Like the moment one has to admit Santa Claus is not real. How does the person take it? Who am I to take away that hope?
Friday, September 29, 2006
Normally I am Abnormal
What is normal? Do we poll the populace, and the most answers wins? If more people have brown hair as compared to red or black or gray or blond or white or none, did “Brown” just become normal? Or is the fact there is variety what should be considered “normal”?
Can we reach a number, where the vast majority of a group contains a characteristic, and must constitute “normal”? If a person is born with 11 fingers, is the fact that 99% of humanity has 10 fingers make the 1% abnormal?
Please understand that “abnormal” is not necessarily bad. If the engine on my car belches black smoke, or if I sneeze blood, my mind recognizes, “Hey that is different” and the deviation from the norm is an indicator that attention is needed. We are constantly on the search for what we think is normal, looking for something out of the normal to draw our attention.
If our child is not speaking as well as other children his age, we focus our attention in that regard. If, however, our child is doing fine, we accept normality as a sign of fitness. As long as our world is progressing in a manner of what we perceive as “normal” we passively allow it to continue in the thought that “normal” means “correct.”
How do I determine what is normal? If everyone else says it, do we have the objectivity to realize that perhaps we could be wrong?
What if you woke up one day, and everyone referred to the color “red” as “gork”? You know what red is. You have always called it “red.” Yet those around you are “As Gork as a Beet.” Or “Stop on a gork light.” Or “Roses are gork.” This would be scary. Do you wonder whether there is an elaborate joke being played on you? Or have you suffered some mental trauma that has effected how you think?
On occasion, I have interacted with people suffering from mental delusions. As I see them fervently believe that the government is monitoring people through teeth fillings, and the dentists are in a giant governmental conspiracy, I wonder—how do you explain that they are abnormal? They are convinced that we are blind fools, and they have woken up in a world where “red” is called “gork” and it is actually “red.” If only the other people could see!
Or on a more tragic note, in the bar fire on Rhode Island where 100 people were killed, many people died that did not have to. Because they followed the crowd that all headed to the front door. What they saw was “normal” was the mass exodus heading in one direction only. I remember reading how many entrances were virtually unused. Because people were following what they thought was “normal” and going in a different direction than the crowd was considered abnormal. And therefore incorrect.
How much of the practice of theism is people thinking, saying, doing and feeling what they perceive as “normal”?
One of the last services I attended, the pastor was talking about temptations, and how we need to commit to avoiding them. He had props for four temptations. I don’t remember what they were, but probably something along the lines of sex, wealth, power and pleasure. At the end of the service, he did a rare “call.” There was no pressure, of course. (And if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell ya!)
He offered to go through the four temptations, and ask that if the person committed working with Christ to flee that temptation, they quietly stand up in their seat. No pressure. First he talked about sex. (Oh. We all have our eyes closed, but nobody does, of course.) Maybe 2% of the audience stands up. Then the pastor says wealth. Now maybe 25% of the audience stands up.
At this point I could script it. Power—40% of the people stand up. (Are there really that many that are tempted by power? Or was it the moment?) At the end, pleasure, the entire rest of the audience, ‘cept little ol’ me, stands up.
My daughter asked me later why I didn’t stand. I asked her, “Do you always do something just because everyone else does? Are you really going to commit, or do you think most people will have forgotten that commitment by the time they unlock their car in the parking lot?”
She admitted that most, including her, would never follow through. “So you just stood up because everyone else was?” She did what she thought was “normal.” To not stand up would be abnormal. Even though it was more likely the truth.
How many other occasions is something ascribed to God, just because the person considers that “normal”? Christians thank God for getting better, getting good parking spots, getting good weather, getting good jobs, getting a raise, getting a child and getting ahead. Is God really controlling the weather patterns over an entire hemisphere of a planet, just so the sun would come out promptly at 2 p.m. on Saturday in time for a football game?
Yet this is what is considered “normal.” In the discussion with theism, I am often told of people having “God Experiences.” Events, or emotions or thoughts that were overwhelming or unique and left the person with the firm conviction that God was involved.
Guess what? We all have those. Standing on beach, watching the sunset, with my children splashing in and out of the water, running back and forth to the campfire, I have a feeling of such peace, wonderment, and happiness, that I truly think that life could not possibly ever get better. That is normal. Before, I would have ascribed that to a “God Experience.” Again, within my circle, and within my beliefs, that would have been “normal.” Now, it would be odd to have the thought of God popping into my head.
In talking with theists, I keep to the forefront of my mind, that to them, the existence of God is “normal.” The idea that such a creature could not exist or that a person could not be convinced of its existence is so “abnormal” as to be unthinkable. I may as well be saying, “The way to safety is to swim to deeper water.” Every part of our being says swim to shallow water. It would be abnormal to swim to deeper water. It is the same with theism. When I say “There is no God” I may as well be saying, “Swim deeper to save yourself.” To a theist, it simply does not compute. It is not normal.
I get it. I really do. But can the theist return the favor? Can you actually believe that it is “normal” for me to not think about God? That I am not angry, I am not rejecting, I am not trumping, I am not “pre-disposed” or “pre-supposed” to there not being a God. That when things go well, or things go sour, in neither situation I am looking for a God?
And no, I do not find theism “abnormal.” Quite the contrary. I find it normal to have a variety of beliefs. It is very human to have differing opinions as to politics, reading material, movies and interests. It is very human to have differing learning skills, and differing teaching methods, and different ways to communicate. We have different levels of proof, different concepts that we find persuasive, and different means of obtaining that information.
When I started this off, I mentioned different hair colors. No one says that a certain hair color is “normal.” Variety is expected and embraced as “normal.” Can we do the same with theistic beliefs? Can we understand that each of us believes differently, and that difference is “normal”? Or must we all have the same God and the same hair color to be normal?
Can we reach a number, where the vast majority of a group contains a characteristic, and must constitute “normal”? If a person is born with 11 fingers, is the fact that 99% of humanity has 10 fingers make the 1% abnormal?
Please understand that “abnormal” is not necessarily bad. If the engine on my car belches black smoke, or if I sneeze blood, my mind recognizes, “Hey that is different” and the deviation from the norm is an indicator that attention is needed. We are constantly on the search for what we think is normal, looking for something out of the normal to draw our attention.
If our child is not speaking as well as other children his age, we focus our attention in that regard. If, however, our child is doing fine, we accept normality as a sign of fitness. As long as our world is progressing in a manner of what we perceive as “normal” we passively allow it to continue in the thought that “normal” means “correct.”
How do I determine what is normal? If everyone else says it, do we have the objectivity to realize that perhaps we could be wrong?
What if you woke up one day, and everyone referred to the color “red” as “gork”? You know what red is. You have always called it “red.” Yet those around you are “As Gork as a Beet.” Or “Stop on a gork light.” Or “Roses are gork.” This would be scary. Do you wonder whether there is an elaborate joke being played on you? Or have you suffered some mental trauma that has effected how you think?
On occasion, I have interacted with people suffering from mental delusions. As I see them fervently believe that the government is monitoring people through teeth fillings, and the dentists are in a giant governmental conspiracy, I wonder—how do you explain that they are abnormal? They are convinced that we are blind fools, and they have woken up in a world where “red” is called “gork” and it is actually “red.” If only the other people could see!
Or on a more tragic note, in the bar fire on Rhode Island where 100 people were killed, many people died that did not have to. Because they followed the crowd that all headed to the front door. What they saw was “normal” was the mass exodus heading in one direction only. I remember reading how many entrances were virtually unused. Because people were following what they thought was “normal” and going in a different direction than the crowd was considered abnormal. And therefore incorrect.
How much of the practice of theism is people thinking, saying, doing and feeling what they perceive as “normal”?
One of the last services I attended, the pastor was talking about temptations, and how we need to commit to avoiding them. He had props for four temptations. I don’t remember what they were, but probably something along the lines of sex, wealth, power and pleasure. At the end of the service, he did a rare “call.” There was no pressure, of course. (And if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell ya!)
He offered to go through the four temptations, and ask that if the person committed working with Christ to flee that temptation, they quietly stand up in their seat. No pressure. First he talked about sex. (Oh. We all have our eyes closed, but nobody does, of course.) Maybe 2% of the audience stands up. Then the pastor says wealth. Now maybe 25% of the audience stands up.
At this point I could script it. Power—40% of the people stand up. (Are there really that many that are tempted by power? Or was it the moment?) At the end, pleasure, the entire rest of the audience, ‘cept little ol’ me, stands up.
My daughter asked me later why I didn’t stand. I asked her, “Do you always do something just because everyone else does? Are you really going to commit, or do you think most people will have forgotten that commitment by the time they unlock their car in the parking lot?”
She admitted that most, including her, would never follow through. “So you just stood up because everyone else was?” She did what she thought was “normal.” To not stand up would be abnormal. Even though it was more likely the truth.
How many other occasions is something ascribed to God, just because the person considers that “normal”? Christians thank God for getting better, getting good parking spots, getting good weather, getting good jobs, getting a raise, getting a child and getting ahead. Is God really controlling the weather patterns over an entire hemisphere of a planet, just so the sun would come out promptly at 2 p.m. on Saturday in time for a football game?
Yet this is what is considered “normal.” In the discussion with theism, I am often told of people having “God Experiences.” Events, or emotions or thoughts that were overwhelming or unique and left the person with the firm conviction that God was involved.
Guess what? We all have those. Standing on beach, watching the sunset, with my children splashing in and out of the water, running back and forth to the campfire, I have a feeling of such peace, wonderment, and happiness, that I truly think that life could not possibly ever get better. That is normal. Before, I would have ascribed that to a “God Experience.” Again, within my circle, and within my beliefs, that would have been “normal.” Now, it would be odd to have the thought of God popping into my head.
In talking with theists, I keep to the forefront of my mind, that to them, the existence of God is “normal.” The idea that such a creature could not exist or that a person could not be convinced of its existence is so “abnormal” as to be unthinkable. I may as well be saying, “The way to safety is to swim to deeper water.” Every part of our being says swim to shallow water. It would be abnormal to swim to deeper water. It is the same with theism. When I say “There is no God” I may as well be saying, “Swim deeper to save yourself.” To a theist, it simply does not compute. It is not normal.
I get it. I really do. But can the theist return the favor? Can you actually believe that it is “normal” for me to not think about God? That I am not angry, I am not rejecting, I am not trumping, I am not “pre-disposed” or “pre-supposed” to there not being a God. That when things go well, or things go sour, in neither situation I am looking for a God?
And no, I do not find theism “abnormal.” Quite the contrary. I find it normal to have a variety of beliefs. It is very human to have differing opinions as to politics, reading material, movies and interests. It is very human to have differing learning skills, and differing teaching methods, and different ways to communicate. We have different levels of proof, different concepts that we find persuasive, and different means of obtaining that information.
When I started this off, I mentioned different hair colors. No one says that a certain hair color is “normal.” Variety is expected and embraced as “normal.” Can we do the same with theistic beliefs? Can we understand that each of us believes differently, and that difference is “normal”? Or must we all have the same God and the same hair color to be normal?
Thursday, September 21, 2006
I don't know
Remember those standardized tests, like the ACT or SAT, or the State tests we took? The No. 2 Pencil? Those four or five ovals that had to be “filled in completely.”? Regardless of the test instructions, or what level of knowledge you had—one thing was certain: If you were running out of time, start filling in boxes. We knew that a blank was a certain incorrect response, but 6 “C’s” in a row could get us one or two more points.
We were taught from a very early age that “Blank answers = wrong answers” so never have a blank answer. “I don’t know” was always unacceptable.
Yeah, we knew that the Capital of Montana was most certainly not “Kentucky” but that is the only thing we could think of. So, we find ourselves putting answers that we knew were almost certainly incorrect. But anything is better than a blank slate.
We grow into it. Imagine having a horrible pain, and after the Doctor sees you and does the diagnostic tests, to hear, “We don’t know.” That is not comforting. We want answers. We want to hear some specific disease with (hopefully) some specific cure.
Time and again, my clients insist on knowing what will happen. Being in a system comprised of people, I often must claim: “I don’t know.” “But what are the odds?” is the follow-up question. Anything, ANYTHING is better than a blank unknown.
We do not want to hear “I don’t know” from our mechanic, our plumber, our accountant, our baby-sitter or our counselor. People do not want an “I don’t know.” That is an unacceptable answer. We have questions, we demand solutions. I once went on a vacation with such a person. It was exhausting.
“What are we doing tomorrow?”
“Not sure. Haven’t thought about it.”
“Well, what time are we having breakfast/”
“Mmm…when we get up.”
“What time will that be?”
“I don’t know, I was planning on sleeping in to the point even my dreams are trying to wake me up.”
“So who is making breakfast?”
Arggg. I find the same propensity in theism. Although it employs the “God is mysterious” enough as it is, even the idea of God is some sort of fill-in-the-blank.
Sure, I do not know how abiogenesis occurred. When asked the question, I must frankly state, “I don’t know.” That does not make it any worse than the theist that trumpets, “A-ha! I have an answer—God did it!” Big deal. You didn’t leave it blank. Neither did the fellow who claimed Kentucky is the capital of Montana. Does not make it any more correct.
And when I start to inspect this God, used to so conveniently fill in this blank, I start to uncover more blanks. Some the theist insists on filling (when they don’t really know the answer) others even they must leave blank.
Recently we were discussing a Greek word. It was a word Paul completely made up—a first use. What does it mean? The best answer (since Koine Greek is a dead language, and we are uncertain as to the use of this word, what the writer intended and what the reader perceived) is “I don’t know.” It may be followed by, “It could possibly mean ___” but it should be prefaced with “I don’t know.”
But a Christian doesn’t want to say that. This is “God’s Inspired Word.” The only written communication from God to humans. “I don’t know” is not helpful in one’s relationship with God. Therefore, better to dogmatically hold a position, rather than utter the words, “I don’t know.”
Is it that bad we do not know the author of Matthew, Mark, Luke or John? Is “I don’t know” in this regard so dangerous, that we must hold on, with both hands, our teeth and one foot, to the traditional authorship claims? Yet when it comes to Hebrews, “I don’t know” becomes perfectly acceptable.
Or worse, when it comes to relating with each other, many people do not know when to shut up and say, “I don’t know.” Oh, they may start off with that, but it is too often followed with “Perhaps God….” And then the knife comes out. It looks like this in the Sunday School class:
“Why is God putting me through this hard time?
”I don’t know. Perhaps…” [here it comes] “…you have unresolved sin in your life?”
“…perhaps God is teaching you patience?”
“…perhaps the Devil is tempting you?”
“…perhaps you need to trust God more?”
Just once it would have been a relief to hear, “You know. I haven’t got a flipping clue as to why God would allow that. I know I sure wouldn’t if I was God.”
But no theist dares say that.
One of the greatest releases of deconverting was the ability to say, “I don’t know.” I don’t know who wrote what books in the Bible. I don’t know how time could start. (I have read on it—still don’t know.) I do not know why some people get cancer at age 28, and some children get better genes than others. I do not know why one of my children is good at soccer, another at drama, and another at being a unique personality.
I have become comfortable with turning in my paper, and numerous blanks left blank. I can say, “I do not know the answer. I am happy with what I do know; I do not need to have every blank filled in, just to claim I have the blanks filled in.”
I am happy to learn. I like to fill in what was previously a blank. But I find more and more, I am just as happy to say, “I know more what could be in that blank—but that does not mean I am ready to fill it in yet.”
We were taught from a very early age that “Blank answers = wrong answers” so never have a blank answer. “I don’t know” was always unacceptable.
Yeah, we knew that the Capital of Montana was most certainly not “Kentucky” but that is the only thing we could think of. So, we find ourselves putting answers that we knew were almost certainly incorrect. But anything is better than a blank slate.
We grow into it. Imagine having a horrible pain, and after the Doctor sees you and does the diagnostic tests, to hear, “We don’t know.” That is not comforting. We want answers. We want to hear some specific disease with (hopefully) some specific cure.
Time and again, my clients insist on knowing what will happen. Being in a system comprised of people, I often must claim: “I don’t know.” “But what are the odds?” is the follow-up question. Anything, ANYTHING is better than a blank unknown.
We do not want to hear “I don’t know” from our mechanic, our plumber, our accountant, our baby-sitter or our counselor. People do not want an “I don’t know.” That is an unacceptable answer. We have questions, we demand solutions. I once went on a vacation with such a person. It was exhausting.
“What are we doing tomorrow?”
“Not sure. Haven’t thought about it.”
“Well, what time are we having breakfast/”
“Mmm…when we get up.”
“What time will that be?”
“I don’t know, I was planning on sleeping in to the point even my dreams are trying to wake me up.”
“So who is making breakfast?”
Arggg. I find the same propensity in theism. Although it employs the “God is mysterious” enough as it is, even the idea of God is some sort of fill-in-the-blank.
Sure, I do not know how abiogenesis occurred. When asked the question, I must frankly state, “I don’t know.” That does not make it any worse than the theist that trumpets, “A-ha! I have an answer—God did it!” Big deal. You didn’t leave it blank. Neither did the fellow who claimed Kentucky is the capital of Montana. Does not make it any more correct.
And when I start to inspect this God, used to so conveniently fill in this blank, I start to uncover more blanks. Some the theist insists on filling (when they don’t really know the answer) others even they must leave blank.
Recently we were discussing a Greek word. It was a word Paul completely made up—a first use. What does it mean? The best answer (since Koine Greek is a dead language, and we are uncertain as to the use of this word, what the writer intended and what the reader perceived) is “I don’t know.” It may be followed by, “It could possibly mean ___” but it should be prefaced with “I don’t know.”
But a Christian doesn’t want to say that. This is “God’s Inspired Word.” The only written communication from God to humans. “I don’t know” is not helpful in one’s relationship with God. Therefore, better to dogmatically hold a position, rather than utter the words, “I don’t know.”
Is it that bad we do not know the author of Matthew, Mark, Luke or John? Is “I don’t know” in this regard so dangerous, that we must hold on, with both hands, our teeth and one foot, to the traditional authorship claims? Yet when it comes to Hebrews, “I don’t know” becomes perfectly acceptable.
Or worse, when it comes to relating with each other, many people do not know when to shut up and say, “I don’t know.” Oh, they may start off with that, but it is too often followed with “Perhaps God….” And then the knife comes out. It looks like this in the Sunday School class:
“Why is God putting me through this hard time?
”I don’t know. Perhaps…” [here it comes] “…you have unresolved sin in your life?”
“…perhaps God is teaching you patience?”
“…perhaps the Devil is tempting you?”
“…perhaps you need to trust God more?”
Just once it would have been a relief to hear, “You know. I haven’t got a flipping clue as to why God would allow that. I know I sure wouldn’t if I was God.”
But no theist dares say that.
One of the greatest releases of deconverting was the ability to say, “I don’t know.” I don’t know who wrote what books in the Bible. I don’t know how time could start. (I have read on it—still don’t know.) I do not know why some people get cancer at age 28, and some children get better genes than others. I do not know why one of my children is good at soccer, another at drama, and another at being a unique personality.
I have become comfortable with turning in my paper, and numerous blanks left blank. I can say, “I do not know the answer. I am happy with what I do know; I do not need to have every blank filled in, just to claim I have the blanks filled in.”
I am happy to learn. I like to fill in what was previously a blank. But I find more and more, I am just as happy to say, “I know more what could be in that blank—but that does not mean I am ready to fill it in yet.”
Sunday, September 10, 2006
The more things change, the more they stay the same
I remember very well my first continuing education class. Looking back on my education, I had attended elementary school, high school, college and graduate school. I had received my final diploma. But in a profession, in order to keep up with the changing times, we take occasional classes.
Within the first minutes of this continuing education class, a gentleman who was easily 20 years my senior raised his hand to ask a question. “Isn’t it true,” he starts and then launches into a long drawn-out question that really wasn’t a question but more a demonstration of the depth of his knowledge in the area.
My first thought was, “I can’t believe it! I thought I had left you long ago. We had one of you in high school. One of you in college. One of you in Law school. And just when I thought I could finally escape this nonsense, there you are again!”
As I looked around this class of maybe 40, and we spent the next eight hours together, I realized they were all there. Every one of them. Sure they had big impressive degrees now—doctorates—but nothing changed.
The take-furious-notes-on-everything-said, and in the process killing numerous trees person was there. Did they ever look at those notes again? I mean seriously, it might be shorter to tape the thing and hear it over and over and over…
The wacky-question guy. You know. The one that starts off with “What if…” and then provides a hypothetical that could not possibly happen unless the earth turned upside down, but there it is.
The sit-in-front-girl. Yeah, the one that immersed themselves in the course, talked to the teacher afterwards, and acted as if they were obtaining the cure for cancer.
The read-another-book-in-class person. The doodler. The tapping-pencil-drummer-wannabe. The sleeper. The duck-out-early guy. (*cough, cough……me*)
I honestly think if we spent another day together we would have separated into jocks, nerds, druggies and cool kids.
I have become involved in my children’s soccer programs. And as I work within these programs, I start to recognize the same personalities, and the same situations as my former Churches.
I missed the socialization and interaction of church. If you look back at my blog, it was one of the first things I blogged about. Being human, I have sought out other areas in which to socialize. And I see realize that there is no difference in the humans involved. I see the same me when being involved in church as being a soccer dad.
If you attend church, you know the person who actively takes charge and runs numerous programs. They are in charge of VBS. They often are in charge of the kid’s programs, or Adult Sunday school. Rarely are they the actual Chairman of the Board, or even the Chairperson of the committee. They leave those titles for others. They are there to get things done.
Our soccer association staged a tournament, inviting other soccer associations to come along. The person that got things done was not the Head of the association. At best at the manager level. But everyone that wanted to know what was going on, or what to do went to her. Even the head of the association.
There is the person that has to have things organized. Everything alphabetical. The “1997 taxes” in the “1997” folder. There is the person that never has a title, never has a specific responsibility, but faithfully is there from early in the morning to late at night, working constantly, whether folding papers, picking up garbage, directing traffic—whatever.
And, unfortunately, there are equally the others. The parents that are never involved, never do anything, but complain about how everything that is being done is being done incorrectly. HA! Admit it! As soon as I said that, a name popped into your mind. Maybe at church, maybe at school, at work or some other activity. Always there, aren’t they?
Or the persons that simply are never, ever are involved and are so inactive that complaining is too much. Oh, you know they exist, because their children magically appear at the start of the program, and disappear at the end. And you could swear you once saw the back of their head in the mini-van as they left the parking lot.
Or the person that develops a pet project, and we absolutely MUST drop everything else in our lives and become fully immersed in this project, as it is SO important. But if you have a request, they are far, far too busy.
The person always late, the person always early, the person that shows up every week for two straight months in a row, begging to be involved, and then disappears until next year. The person you can always count on to substitute teach, and therefore is always substitute teaching. The benefactor. The busy-body. The Butcher, the Baker, the Candle-stick maker.
As I looked about the various persons (call me “the person-who-labels-others”) there is no difference in a group of soccer parents and a church. None. Oh, the topic is different, to be sure, but substitute “Jesus” for “soccer” and I think the conversations and personalities are interchangeable.
“It seems Jesus/Soccer has fulfilled my life.”
“My Sunday/Saturday revolved around Jesus/Soccer.”
“Are you coming to the Game/Church?”
“Want to do something after soccer/Church?”
“Jesus/Soccer has focused my child’s attention.”
See how neat that works? While we don’t pray to soccer, we hope just as earnestly that our kid can score. We do cheer louder than church allows!
I have noticed, and talked before on how little changes in the morals between a believer and a non-believer. Equally, I see no change in personalities. Is there anything different, anything divine about a Church? Should there be?
Should we have the complaining and grumbling in churches? I would think that asking for workers would mean that each time churches would have to turn people away. In a church, with persons touched by divinity, we should hear, “I am sorry, but we don’t need any more people. Maybe next time you can help,” rather than what I so often heard: “Gulp. Uh…I hate ask you…I know you just did this last week and all…but no one else can…” (read “will”) “Is it possible for you to help out just this one more time? I promise that next week we will have someone…”
We have all sorts of arguments about theism. Philosophic, scientific, emotional, and rationale. While it may not be convincing to others, one of the strongest reasons I see no God, is that I see no divine touch.
If I placed you in a continuing legal education class, a parent-teacher association, or a church, and turned down the volume on the speaker—could you tell the difference? Could you say, “There is something different about the people in that last group.” Or, like me, do you pick out the same persons with different names and different faces. But the same persons.
Within the first minutes of this continuing education class, a gentleman who was easily 20 years my senior raised his hand to ask a question. “Isn’t it true,” he starts and then launches into a long drawn-out question that really wasn’t a question but more a demonstration of the depth of his knowledge in the area.
My first thought was, “I can’t believe it! I thought I had left you long ago. We had one of you in high school. One of you in college. One of you in Law school. And just when I thought I could finally escape this nonsense, there you are again!”
As I looked around this class of maybe 40, and we spent the next eight hours together, I realized they were all there. Every one of them. Sure they had big impressive degrees now—doctorates—but nothing changed.
The take-furious-notes-on-everything-said, and in the process killing numerous trees person was there. Did they ever look at those notes again? I mean seriously, it might be shorter to tape the thing and hear it over and over and over…
The wacky-question guy. You know. The one that starts off with “What if…” and then provides a hypothetical that could not possibly happen unless the earth turned upside down, but there it is.
The sit-in-front-girl. Yeah, the one that immersed themselves in the course, talked to the teacher afterwards, and acted as if they were obtaining the cure for cancer.
The read-another-book-in-class person. The doodler. The tapping-pencil-drummer-wannabe. The sleeper. The duck-out-early guy. (*cough, cough……me*)
I honestly think if we spent another day together we would have separated into jocks, nerds, druggies and cool kids.
I have become involved in my children’s soccer programs. And as I work within these programs, I start to recognize the same personalities, and the same situations as my former Churches.
I missed the socialization and interaction of church. If you look back at my blog, it was one of the first things I blogged about. Being human, I have sought out other areas in which to socialize. And I see realize that there is no difference in the humans involved. I see the same me when being involved in church as being a soccer dad.
If you attend church, you know the person who actively takes charge and runs numerous programs. They are in charge of VBS. They often are in charge of the kid’s programs, or Adult Sunday school. Rarely are they the actual Chairman of the Board, or even the Chairperson of the committee. They leave those titles for others. They are there to get things done.
Our soccer association staged a tournament, inviting other soccer associations to come along. The person that got things done was not the Head of the association. At best at the manager level. But everyone that wanted to know what was going on, or what to do went to her. Even the head of the association.
There is the person that has to have things organized. Everything alphabetical. The “1997 taxes” in the “1997” folder. There is the person that never has a title, never has a specific responsibility, but faithfully is there from early in the morning to late at night, working constantly, whether folding papers, picking up garbage, directing traffic—whatever.
And, unfortunately, there are equally the others. The parents that are never involved, never do anything, but complain about how everything that is being done is being done incorrectly. HA! Admit it! As soon as I said that, a name popped into your mind. Maybe at church, maybe at school, at work or some other activity. Always there, aren’t they?
Or the persons that simply are never, ever are involved and are so inactive that complaining is too much. Oh, you know they exist, because their children magically appear at the start of the program, and disappear at the end. And you could swear you once saw the back of their head in the mini-van as they left the parking lot.
Or the person that develops a pet project, and we absolutely MUST drop everything else in our lives and become fully immersed in this project, as it is SO important. But if you have a request, they are far, far too busy.
The person always late, the person always early, the person that shows up every week for two straight months in a row, begging to be involved, and then disappears until next year. The person you can always count on to substitute teach, and therefore is always substitute teaching. The benefactor. The busy-body. The Butcher, the Baker, the Candle-stick maker.
As I looked about the various persons (call me “the person-who-labels-others”) there is no difference in a group of soccer parents and a church. None. Oh, the topic is different, to be sure, but substitute “Jesus” for “soccer” and I think the conversations and personalities are interchangeable.
“It seems Jesus/Soccer has fulfilled my life.”
“My Sunday/Saturday revolved around Jesus/Soccer.”
“Are you coming to the Game/Church?”
“Want to do something after soccer/Church?”
“Jesus/Soccer has focused my child’s attention.”
See how neat that works? While we don’t pray to soccer, we hope just as earnestly that our kid can score. We do cheer louder than church allows!
I have noticed, and talked before on how little changes in the morals between a believer and a non-believer. Equally, I see no change in personalities. Is there anything different, anything divine about a Church? Should there be?
Should we have the complaining and grumbling in churches? I would think that asking for workers would mean that each time churches would have to turn people away. In a church, with persons touched by divinity, we should hear, “I am sorry, but we don’t need any more people. Maybe next time you can help,” rather than what I so often heard: “Gulp. Uh…I hate ask you…I know you just did this last week and all…but no one else can…” (read “will”) “Is it possible for you to help out just this one more time? I promise that next week we will have someone…”
We have all sorts of arguments about theism. Philosophic, scientific, emotional, and rationale. While it may not be convincing to others, one of the strongest reasons I see no God, is that I see no divine touch.
If I placed you in a continuing legal education class, a parent-teacher association, or a church, and turned down the volume on the speaker—could you tell the difference? Could you say, “There is something different about the people in that last group.” Or, like me, do you pick out the same persons with different names and different faces. But the same persons.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
So Your Friend is Deconverting...
Recently I have observed various conversations regarding deconvert’s relationships with friends, and I thought a primer for the friends would be helpful.
O.K. Your friend has come to you with the announcement that he is atheist, or agnostic, or deist; in some way has become convinced the God you two shared is non-existent. Is not reality. What do you do?
Bail out.
Yes, I know it sounds harsh, abrupt and a violation of some code, but let’s face it—he changed the rules, not you. Hey, if he came to you and said he always wanted to be a woman and was having a sex-change operation next week, he wouldn’t expect the relationship to stay the same, true? Of if you informed him that you were moving to Antarctica to study ice flow for the next four years, he would not expect the relationship continue as is, right?
In life—things change. And relationships may change or even end with those changes. God is a large…no, HUGE part of your life. You pray, and study every day. You go to church. Your friends and family all center on your beliefs. If he does not want to be part of it, that is his choice. He cannot expect YOU to all of a sudden drop everything you know is true, simply because he is having “issues.”
Remember that time when you went out looking for dates, and that one girl said she would never date a football player, and you both laughed and laughed since the place was full of football players? You are sure she was a great person, and may be off married to a dancer or artist somewhere, but she was simply in the wrong crowd. You know he is a great guy, but just like that he is in the wrong crowd. “Birds of a feather…” and all that. Better for him to go find some atheist or agnostic buddies.
You just don’t have as much in common any more. What are you going to do Saturday night? Is he going to come to Small Group with you? Not hardly. Or Sunday lunch. Hard to discuss the sermon, or what is happening at church if he is not even there, right?
And how can you discuss anything spiritually with him? How God is impacting your life, or how prayer was answered? He thinks it is all baloney, now! You might even be offended, if he raises an eyebrow when you mention how God gave great weather for Sunday’s…er…Saturday’s church golf outing. What kind of relationship is that?
No, best for both of you to end it here. No need to send a letter, or note explaining your position. When you don’t return his calls, and stop inviting him over for your annual July 4th picnic, you can be sure he will get the message. Besides, you are certain by then he has all his agnostic buddies to hang around and enjoy life here. Because for a non-believer Earth is the best they will ever get, but for a believer, Earth is the worst they will ever get. Nuts, he doesn’t even understand THAT anymore.
Bail out. Be done with it. Not your fault, but what is done is done. He made his bed, he can lie in it.
What are you still reading for?
The primer is done.
I am quite serious, that this is the best way for these friendships to go.
Sigh.
You want more. Right? You want something more hopeful, more helpful, more life-giving rather than “end it.” Well, you can try and continue it, but that takes hard work. Maybe some of the hardest work in a friendship. Maybe more than you want to commit.
All right. I will give some insight, but I warn you—probably better to end the primer right here than read on.
Commit one meeting a week with your friend (Hey, I said it would not be easy.)
Deconverting is a mixed-up feeling. He does not know whether he feels like a widower on a cruise ship of honeymooners or a honeymooner on a cruise ship of widowers. Part of it is a feeling of presenting harsh reality to a group of happy-go-lucky believers, and partly a feeling of a whole new world of reality to a miserable group of dejected followers. He wants to share new information, yet not be overt offensive.
Mostly likely he did not deconvert through face-to-face discussion, but rather through on-line discussion, or reading, or internal reflection. Now he wants to actually talk to a real, live person about some of the thoughts and feelings of what he went through.
You see, most of his friends will opt to bail out. The community which he grew up in, the one he is most familiar with, chooses to have nothing to do with him. Worse, they have damned him to a state of apostasy, and would force him to keep his new ideas to himself.
He has no one to actually talk about what has happened.
Before, as his life progressed, he could share some things with one person, others with another, and have various friends interacting with him on various levels. That is now gone. To even have one friend once a week, actually desire to talk with him would be a real treat.
It would not be easy. There would be things you do not want to hear, and words that would not be pleasant. There are concepts and ideas that are foreign to you and you cannot wrap your hands about even contemplating them. Neither could he one year ago, and now he embraces them.
Humans are social creatures. Deconverts are no different. He will first look for interaction with what he is familiar—his current set of friends. You very likely will be the only one that reciprocates.
Forget judgmental talk
How much water can you fit in a one-gallon bucket? No matter how much you pour and pour, the most you can fit is one gallon. After that, all the pouring in the world makes no difference—no more water is going to fit.
After interacting with theists on-line, your friend the deconvert has certain buckets that are full. You saying it again will make no difference. The following buckets are full:
“You really know there is a God.”
“You hate answering to authority, so you hate God.”
“You want to be God.”
“The wisdom of the world is foolishness.”
“You were never saved in the first place.”
Frankly, deconverts have heard those phrases time and time (and time) again. He knows you think it. He knows that it these are truths that are so grounded in your being they make “2 + 2 = 4” possibly more inaccurate. But he doesn’t need to hear it again.
Interestingly, you can still get the point across, but in the form of a question, rather than an accusation. Instead of saying, “You really know there is a God” you could say, “When you were a Christian, you thought Romans 1 was divinely inspired. As you know, it indicates that all humans know there is a God. How did you deal with that?”
You may not like the answer. But it comes across so much nicer in question form, rather than indictment form.
He knows you cannot fathom the concept that another person can believe, to the very core of their being, there is no God. He knows that you must question his sincerity in saying that. But rather than blurt it out, keep it to yourself. If he calls himself a former Christian, there is not a single ounce of harm to agree.
Yes, you have a duty to speak truth. Yes, you will choke on the words that state he was a Christian. But do you really want to argue “truth” with someone that you are convinced is lying to themselves? What is the gain? Let it go.
Stow the assertions; ask questions instead.
You may have to study
If you are really interested in empathizing to some degree as to what he went through, you may have to pick up a book and read. It will not be a book you would normally choose.
Deconverts become deconverts through study. They have read numerous books, and articles, and forums, and blogs, and have analyzed as best they can, 1000’s of pages of documents. It is a compliment to acknowledge that study with at least reading one measly book.
Ask for a recommendation from your friend for one (1) book. Explain that you have no interest in deconverting, but, because they are your friend, you are interested in what they are interested in. Read the book, take notes, and point out to your friend everywhere it was wrong, or did not resonant with you.
For your friend, this will do two things. First, it will demonstrate your interest and the fact you actually read it. Second it will give him an opportunity to show you there is not always one side to every story.
Give it time
Surprisingly, you will find that he did not change as much as you expected. He still likes the same food. He still laughs at the same jokes, plays the same tricks, and tells the same stupid stories. He may even still go to church.
He will not announce he has become a homosexual swinger, due to the release of a theistic moral system. He will not ask you to join him in bank robberies, murder sprees and village pillaging, due to this new moral ideal.
You may also find that he becomes less and less interested in discussing theism, as the hours you have spent were just enough of a release valve, which he can vent elsewhere. Eventually he will remember that he wants you, too, as a friend, and you may not want to talk about evolution every single time you meet.
And while your relationship will be different, no doubt, on many levels it can be much deeper. You might even, someday, tell others that you have an atheist, agnostic or deist for a friend when it is not a prayer request!
O.K. Your friend has come to you with the announcement that he is atheist, or agnostic, or deist; in some way has become convinced the God you two shared is non-existent. Is not reality. What do you do?
Bail out.
Yes, I know it sounds harsh, abrupt and a violation of some code, but let’s face it—he changed the rules, not you. Hey, if he came to you and said he always wanted to be a woman and was having a sex-change operation next week, he wouldn’t expect the relationship to stay the same, true? Of if you informed him that you were moving to Antarctica to study ice flow for the next four years, he would not expect the relationship continue as is, right?
In life—things change. And relationships may change or even end with those changes. God is a large…no, HUGE part of your life. You pray, and study every day. You go to church. Your friends and family all center on your beliefs. If he does not want to be part of it, that is his choice. He cannot expect YOU to all of a sudden drop everything you know is true, simply because he is having “issues.”
Remember that time when you went out looking for dates, and that one girl said she would never date a football player, and you both laughed and laughed since the place was full of football players? You are sure she was a great person, and may be off married to a dancer or artist somewhere, but she was simply in the wrong crowd. You know he is a great guy, but just like that he is in the wrong crowd. “Birds of a feather…” and all that. Better for him to go find some atheist or agnostic buddies.
You just don’t have as much in common any more. What are you going to do Saturday night? Is he going to come to Small Group with you? Not hardly. Or Sunday lunch. Hard to discuss the sermon, or what is happening at church if he is not even there, right?
And how can you discuss anything spiritually with him? How God is impacting your life, or how prayer was answered? He thinks it is all baloney, now! You might even be offended, if he raises an eyebrow when you mention how God gave great weather for Sunday’s…er…Saturday’s church golf outing. What kind of relationship is that?
No, best for both of you to end it here. No need to send a letter, or note explaining your position. When you don’t return his calls, and stop inviting him over for your annual July 4th picnic, you can be sure he will get the message. Besides, you are certain by then he has all his agnostic buddies to hang around and enjoy life here. Because for a non-believer Earth is the best they will ever get, but for a believer, Earth is the worst they will ever get. Nuts, he doesn’t even understand THAT anymore.
Bail out. Be done with it. Not your fault, but what is done is done. He made his bed, he can lie in it.
What are you still reading for?
The primer is done.
I am quite serious, that this is the best way for these friendships to go.
Sigh.
You want more. Right? You want something more hopeful, more helpful, more life-giving rather than “end it.” Well, you can try and continue it, but that takes hard work. Maybe some of the hardest work in a friendship. Maybe more than you want to commit.
All right. I will give some insight, but I warn you—probably better to end the primer right here than read on.
Commit one meeting a week with your friend (Hey, I said it would not be easy.)
Deconverting is a mixed-up feeling. He does not know whether he feels like a widower on a cruise ship of honeymooners or a honeymooner on a cruise ship of widowers. Part of it is a feeling of presenting harsh reality to a group of happy-go-lucky believers, and partly a feeling of a whole new world of reality to a miserable group of dejected followers. He wants to share new information, yet not be overt offensive.
Mostly likely he did not deconvert through face-to-face discussion, but rather through on-line discussion, or reading, or internal reflection. Now he wants to actually talk to a real, live person about some of the thoughts and feelings of what he went through.
You see, most of his friends will opt to bail out. The community which he grew up in, the one he is most familiar with, chooses to have nothing to do with him. Worse, they have damned him to a state of apostasy, and would force him to keep his new ideas to himself.
He has no one to actually talk about what has happened.
Before, as his life progressed, he could share some things with one person, others with another, and have various friends interacting with him on various levels. That is now gone. To even have one friend once a week, actually desire to talk with him would be a real treat.
It would not be easy. There would be things you do not want to hear, and words that would not be pleasant. There are concepts and ideas that are foreign to you and you cannot wrap your hands about even contemplating them. Neither could he one year ago, and now he embraces them.
Humans are social creatures. Deconverts are no different. He will first look for interaction with what he is familiar—his current set of friends. You very likely will be the only one that reciprocates.
Forget judgmental talk
How much water can you fit in a one-gallon bucket? No matter how much you pour and pour, the most you can fit is one gallon. After that, all the pouring in the world makes no difference—no more water is going to fit.
After interacting with theists on-line, your friend the deconvert has certain buckets that are full. You saying it again will make no difference. The following buckets are full:
“You really know there is a God.”
“You hate answering to authority, so you hate God.”
“You want to be God.”
“The wisdom of the world is foolishness.”
“You were never saved in the first place.”
Frankly, deconverts have heard those phrases time and time (and time) again. He knows you think it. He knows that it these are truths that are so grounded in your being they make “2 + 2 = 4” possibly more inaccurate. But he doesn’t need to hear it again.
Interestingly, you can still get the point across, but in the form of a question, rather than an accusation. Instead of saying, “You really know there is a God” you could say, “When you were a Christian, you thought Romans 1 was divinely inspired. As you know, it indicates that all humans know there is a God. How did you deal with that?”
You may not like the answer. But it comes across so much nicer in question form, rather than indictment form.
He knows you cannot fathom the concept that another person can believe, to the very core of their being, there is no God. He knows that you must question his sincerity in saying that. But rather than blurt it out, keep it to yourself. If he calls himself a former Christian, there is not a single ounce of harm to agree.
Yes, you have a duty to speak truth. Yes, you will choke on the words that state he was a Christian. But do you really want to argue “truth” with someone that you are convinced is lying to themselves? What is the gain? Let it go.
Stow the assertions; ask questions instead.
You may have to study
If you are really interested in empathizing to some degree as to what he went through, you may have to pick up a book and read. It will not be a book you would normally choose.
Deconverts become deconverts through study. They have read numerous books, and articles, and forums, and blogs, and have analyzed as best they can, 1000’s of pages of documents. It is a compliment to acknowledge that study with at least reading one measly book.
Ask for a recommendation from your friend for one (1) book. Explain that you have no interest in deconverting, but, because they are your friend, you are interested in what they are interested in. Read the book, take notes, and point out to your friend everywhere it was wrong, or did not resonant with you.
For your friend, this will do two things. First, it will demonstrate your interest and the fact you actually read it. Second it will give him an opportunity to show you there is not always one side to every story.
Give it time
Surprisingly, you will find that he did not change as much as you expected. He still likes the same food. He still laughs at the same jokes, plays the same tricks, and tells the same stupid stories. He may even still go to church.
He will not announce he has become a homosexual swinger, due to the release of a theistic moral system. He will not ask you to join him in bank robberies, murder sprees and village pillaging, due to this new moral ideal.
You may also find that he becomes less and less interested in discussing theism, as the hours you have spent were just enough of a release valve, which he can vent elsewhere. Eventually he will remember that he wants you, too, as a friend, and you may not want to talk about evolution every single time you meet.
And while your relationship will be different, no doubt, on many levels it can be much deeper. You might even, someday, tell others that you have an atheist, agnostic or deist for a friend when it is not a prayer request!
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
At least I would buy less gifts...
I was raised in a pre-millennium, pre-tribulation Christian world.
As fundamentalists, we were not provided too many exciting topics. No drinking, no card-playing, no movies, no smoking, and certainly no controversial or spine-tingling subjects. There were two exceptions.
Once in a great while we were allowed to discuss demons and Satanists. We salivated over tales of rituals (all hinting of various stages of undress) and horror including drinking blood, cannibalism and kidnapping unknowing strangers. The other exception was discussion about end-times, and all the various sins that would be committed and the explicitly described gory judgments rendered upon those miscreants, whilst we watched from heaven, munching our popcorn.
For those that don’t know their eschatology (a word meaning, “Look at me! I use big words for ‘end-times’ that dramatically increases the listener’s respect for what I am talking about”) many Christians hold to a 1000-year period of peace, in which Jesus and various Christians run the government. Hence the word “millennium.”
As Christians seem to create more issues than resolutions among themselves, it comes as no surprise that the Millennium is no different. Some argue that Jesus will return prior to the Millennium, some argued that he would return after, and some argue that the Millennium is not an actual 1000-year period.
Those that hold to Jesus returning before (Pre-Millennium,) most often also believe that there will be seven years of very bad times immediately prior to Jesus coming, and term this “The Tribulation.” And since the Millennium has controversy, there is no reason that the Tribulation can’t have some controversy, either.
Those that hold to a Tribulation also believe there will be an event in which Jesus calls up, in some way, the then-living Christians in what is termed “The Rapture.” Some believe that The Rapture will happen right before The Tribulation, some hold it will happen in the middle of The Tribulation, and some at the end of The Tribulation.
If you followed me thus far, you may see that we believed in The Rapture, (“Pre-Tribulation”) followed by The Tribulation, then Jesus comes, (“Pre-Millennium”) then The Millennium. Since the words were too long to say (‘cept “eschatology”) we shortened them to “Pre-Trib” or “Pre-Mil.”
This allowed us to say fun sentences such as “That fellow is a Post-Mil, so they could never be a Mid-Trib, but she is a Pre-Trib, which makes her better than a Post-Trib and much better than an A-mil.” See?
(I always wondered why we didn’t shorten other words. I was a Calvinist Baptist, Nicene Creed, Inerrantist, Literalist. Or a Cal Bap Nick In Lit. I guess it does sound like a cell phone going through a tunnel, eh?)
All of which is to say I was raised in a home that thought one day all the living Christians would vanish in some way.
We did not have the particulars worked out in this regard. Although we did not need to take our clothes, the thought of any more nakedicity in the world, through God’s divine plan, was more than we could bear, so we envisioned that the clothes would go with us. Exchanged in some private changing room and discarded once we arrived, of course. (We secretly thought that Heaven was to be as modest as Earth, with an occasional guilty passing thought that it might be nudist, after which we began to confess our sins thinking about WHO might make it heaven or not.)
And, to our shame, we had little sympathy for the lives that would be impacted. In fact, we had more than a little guilty pleasure. In these rousing sessions about end-times there would always be a mention of what happens to a plane if both the pilot and co-pilot were Christians with a dismissive shrug and self-righteous justification that any passengers going down in a ball of flame shouldn’t have been non-Christians. They had their chance and biffed it.
Hey, if my car swerves off at 65 mph and slams into another car, killing a two-year-old child, she wouldn’t have BEEN in that car, if she was a Christian, right? She would have been floating up in the air with me.
Technically, we didn’t think that the Christians would actually float up in the air. That would be too-much of a give away that something was happening. We figured we would disappear and perhaps re-appear once far enough off the ground that no one could see us. Or maybe gather in space somewhere.
Seriously.
In the back of our mind, we were always aware that there must be some people who thought they were Christians, and were not taken up. As a child, on more than one occasion when my family was not immediately available, and I thought they should be, I was concerned that the Rapture happened without me!
And we never quite knew how those that knew of the Rapture would not be immediately convinced, and become Christians on the spot. (Too late for the Rapture, of course, but plenty of time for the return pick-up.) It was a matter of fun speculation in which numerous theories could be proposed, and who could say that it was not possible?
Take me for example. My family is all Christian. Pre-Trib, Pre-Mil. I can’t help wonder what they think I would do, if the Rapture happened like they think it would. Understand, when I say my family is ALL Christian, I mean ALL. My father and his wife are. My brothers and sister are. My step-brother and step-sisters are. All of their spouses are. All of their children, my nieces and nephews, are. All of the current boyfriends/girlfriends of the nieces and nephews are. My wife is. My children are.
At the next Christmas gathering when it is just me and more than 40 people are MIA, do ya think I [b]might[/b] just start scratching my head? I am a skeptic, remember? What tale could the government spin, what would I buy that would convince me that my entire family just disappeared? Alien invasion? I don’t believe in aliens. Skeptic, remember? Disease? I don’t trust my government’s claims NOW about disease, why would my entire family’s disappearance make any difference?
I would think, while I am looking at the ham, turkey, mashed potatoes, rolls and pie enough to feed a troop, the thought, “Gee, I wonder if the Rapture occurred?” could possibly cross my mind.
In reading across the internet, there are 1000’s, maybe 10’s of 1000’s of deconverts from Christianity, just like me. Who have heard of the rapture, just like me. Who would become believers on the spot, just like me. It would make Christianity the No. 1 religion overnight!
I would pity the fool who attempted to consolidate this religion or a government after that!
“I will lead the Christians into a unified one-world church.”
“Ahhhh! The Anti-Christ! The Anti-Christ! Kill! Kill! Kill! We don’t want to have THE TRIBULATION.”
“I want you to have this mark on your hand—“
“Or my forehead! Oh, oh! You are the Beast! Come everybody, see the Beast! See the mark! Avoid it at all costs. Kill! Kill! Kill! We don’t want to have THE TRIBULATION.”
The only way that I could see for the Tribulation to occur, what with the proliferation of the Bible, and the belief of the Rapture expounded in numerous media forums, is for God to deliberate deceive those that are left. Even LaHaye’s “Left Behind” series would have to disappear off the shelves. Too many secrets revealed.
Is that what my family proposes? That God must deceive me, so that in some way I believe they all disappeared and it makes perfectly logical sense?
Funny, at the moment they propose that Satan is deceiving me by logic and reason, and that is a bad thing. Apparently when God does it after the Rapture, it will be a good thing.
Frankly, I would prefer they both be more up-front and stop playing these games. Or perhaps neither exists, and this is one more item in a long laundry list that, upon inspection, makes no sense.
As fundamentalists, we were not provided too many exciting topics. No drinking, no card-playing, no movies, no smoking, and certainly no controversial or spine-tingling subjects. There were two exceptions.
Once in a great while we were allowed to discuss demons and Satanists. We salivated over tales of rituals (all hinting of various stages of undress) and horror including drinking blood, cannibalism and kidnapping unknowing strangers. The other exception was discussion about end-times, and all the various sins that would be committed and the explicitly described gory judgments rendered upon those miscreants, whilst we watched from heaven, munching our popcorn.
For those that don’t know their eschatology (a word meaning, “Look at me! I use big words for ‘end-times’ that dramatically increases the listener’s respect for what I am talking about”) many Christians hold to a 1000-year period of peace, in which Jesus and various Christians run the government. Hence the word “millennium.”
As Christians seem to create more issues than resolutions among themselves, it comes as no surprise that the Millennium is no different. Some argue that Jesus will return prior to the Millennium, some argued that he would return after, and some argue that the Millennium is not an actual 1000-year period.
Those that hold to Jesus returning before (Pre-Millennium,) most often also believe that there will be seven years of very bad times immediately prior to Jesus coming, and term this “The Tribulation.” And since the Millennium has controversy, there is no reason that the Tribulation can’t have some controversy, either.
Those that hold to a Tribulation also believe there will be an event in which Jesus calls up, in some way, the then-living Christians in what is termed “The Rapture.” Some believe that The Rapture will happen right before The Tribulation, some hold it will happen in the middle of The Tribulation, and some at the end of The Tribulation.
If you followed me thus far, you may see that we believed in The Rapture, (“Pre-Tribulation”) followed by The Tribulation, then Jesus comes, (“Pre-Millennium”) then The Millennium. Since the words were too long to say (‘cept “eschatology”) we shortened them to “Pre-Trib” or “Pre-Mil.”
This allowed us to say fun sentences such as “That fellow is a Post-Mil, so they could never be a Mid-Trib, but she is a Pre-Trib, which makes her better than a Post-Trib and much better than an A-mil.” See?
(I always wondered why we didn’t shorten other words. I was a Calvinist Baptist, Nicene Creed, Inerrantist, Literalist. Or a Cal Bap Nick In Lit. I guess it does sound like a cell phone going through a tunnel, eh?)
All of which is to say I was raised in a home that thought one day all the living Christians would vanish in some way.
We did not have the particulars worked out in this regard. Although we did not need to take our clothes, the thought of any more nakedicity in the world, through God’s divine plan, was more than we could bear, so we envisioned that the clothes would go with us. Exchanged in some private changing room and discarded once we arrived, of course. (We secretly thought that Heaven was to be as modest as Earth, with an occasional guilty passing thought that it might be nudist, after which we began to confess our sins thinking about WHO might make it heaven or not.)
And, to our shame, we had little sympathy for the lives that would be impacted. In fact, we had more than a little guilty pleasure. In these rousing sessions about end-times there would always be a mention of what happens to a plane if both the pilot and co-pilot were Christians with a dismissive shrug and self-righteous justification that any passengers going down in a ball of flame shouldn’t have been non-Christians. They had their chance and biffed it.
Hey, if my car swerves off at 65 mph and slams into another car, killing a two-year-old child, she wouldn’t have BEEN in that car, if she was a Christian, right? She would have been floating up in the air with me.
Technically, we didn’t think that the Christians would actually float up in the air. That would be too-much of a give away that something was happening. We figured we would disappear and perhaps re-appear once far enough off the ground that no one could see us. Or maybe gather in space somewhere.
Seriously.
In the back of our mind, we were always aware that there must be some people who thought they were Christians, and were not taken up. As a child, on more than one occasion when my family was not immediately available, and I thought they should be, I was concerned that the Rapture happened without me!
And we never quite knew how those that knew of the Rapture would not be immediately convinced, and become Christians on the spot. (Too late for the Rapture, of course, but plenty of time for the return pick-up.) It was a matter of fun speculation in which numerous theories could be proposed, and who could say that it was not possible?
Take me for example. My family is all Christian. Pre-Trib, Pre-Mil. I can’t help wonder what they think I would do, if the Rapture happened like they think it would. Understand, when I say my family is ALL Christian, I mean ALL. My father and his wife are. My brothers and sister are. My step-brother and step-sisters are. All of their spouses are. All of their children, my nieces and nephews, are. All of the current boyfriends/girlfriends of the nieces and nephews are. My wife is. My children are.
At the next Christmas gathering when it is just me and more than 40 people are MIA, do ya think I [b]might[/b] just start scratching my head? I am a skeptic, remember? What tale could the government spin, what would I buy that would convince me that my entire family just disappeared? Alien invasion? I don’t believe in aliens. Skeptic, remember? Disease? I don’t trust my government’s claims NOW about disease, why would my entire family’s disappearance make any difference?
I would think, while I am looking at the ham, turkey, mashed potatoes, rolls and pie enough to feed a troop, the thought, “Gee, I wonder if the Rapture occurred?” could possibly cross my mind.
In reading across the internet, there are 1000’s, maybe 10’s of 1000’s of deconverts from Christianity, just like me. Who have heard of the rapture, just like me. Who would become believers on the spot, just like me. It would make Christianity the No. 1 religion overnight!
I would pity the fool who attempted to consolidate this religion or a government after that!
“I will lead the Christians into a unified one-world church.”
“Ahhhh! The Anti-Christ! The Anti-Christ! Kill! Kill! Kill! We don’t want to have THE TRIBULATION.”
“I want you to have this mark on your hand—“
“Or my forehead! Oh, oh! You are the Beast! Come everybody, see the Beast! See the mark! Avoid it at all costs. Kill! Kill! Kill! We don’t want to have THE TRIBULATION.”
The only way that I could see for the Tribulation to occur, what with the proliferation of the Bible, and the belief of the Rapture expounded in numerous media forums, is for God to deliberate deceive those that are left. Even LaHaye’s “Left Behind” series would have to disappear off the shelves. Too many secrets revealed.
Is that what my family proposes? That God must deceive me, so that in some way I believe they all disappeared and it makes perfectly logical sense?
Funny, at the moment they propose that Satan is deceiving me by logic and reason, and that is a bad thing. Apparently when God does it after the Rapture, it will be a good thing.
Frankly, I would prefer they both be more up-front and stop playing these games. Or perhaps neither exists, and this is one more item in a long laundry list that, upon inspection, makes no sense.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Fishy Smell
As I got to wander through our state this past week, I passed (and was passed) by many automobiles. Many of them had….”the fish.” You know what I am taking about—a chrome set of crossed parenthesis. No eyes. No mouth. No upper or lower or side fins. In fact, the tail is not even quite finished.
All proudly proclaiming the heightened state of spirituality which I presume the driver has obtained, and the intense state of evangelism dispensed at 80 mph. Never fear, I know I was just passed by a Christian in a Ford F-350, towing a boat, two Jet skis, four bikes and a fish.
People revolt from placing an “I Found It” or “God is my Co-Pilot” on their bright, shiny Black Cadillac. But chrome it up, make it subtle and they smack it on with glee.
In case some of you lunkheads are a bit thick, a few of the fish include the word “Jesus” inside. I am uncertain whether that is a lower spirituality (because it has to be spelled out) or a higher spirituality (because it is spelled out) or simply an option the no-“Jesus” fishes couldn’t afford.
And after seeing so many, I did notice that they are a bit drab. Oh, they are chrome, but the same thing over and over and over. No colors; no cute little sayings. (I started making them up—“O-Fish-all symbol of Jesus” and “Christian Carp-ful” and “My sole is heaven bound” or “Hooked on Jesus” and my favorite, “I’d go to halibut I got Jesus.”)
Seriously—what are we non-fishes supposed to do?
Is it THAT important we know you are some type of Christian, merely by the ornament on your automobile? Clearly by taking the necessary steps to go out of your way, use funds normally designated for your own personal treat (since I am certain you would NEVER take it from the funds you designate for the poor), picking the choicest spot on your vehicle and carefully placing it, you must hope for some reaction from others.
Is it so we know there are Christians out there?
“Honey, look at that. I thought the last Christians had disappeared, but there’s a car with a fish. Must be still around. Oh! And over there, a plate from Vermont…”
Or are we to see how well God has blessed you? I am sure many a family stretching their dollars to take a vacation in their ‘94 Geo Prism are suitably impressed by seeing an RV larger than their neighborhood passing them with a fish firmly affixed.
“Gee, honey. If only we were Christians, we could have camper that requires us to back-and-fill three times to take a turn. Sigh.”
Or are you sending secret signals to other fishes and, not unlike a traveling motorcycle group, plan to meet up at the next good restaurant? After having attended church for 38 years, I can assure you that any restaurant with a parking-lot of fishes is a good place to eat!
Christians may not know what the Synoptic Problem is, but they sure know how to find a tasty affordable buffet when necessary.
‘Course in this day and age, with the varying belief systems within fish world itself, it may be a bit tricky to catch up with the right fish.
“Hey, I see you have a fish on your car, too!”
”Yep. What parish do you belong to?”
“’Parish?’ Yipes! Bad Fish! Bad Fish!”
I presume mostly it comes from a sense of self-pride that one has from being a Christian that makes them want to show it in some way. There is nothing wrong with that, on some levels. I can understand where being a member of a select group causes one to desire that others recognize the difference.
But is putting a trinket on your automobile, when there are so many people in the world who are starving, that much of a symbol of Christianity? Or is it more a mark of shame? Honestly, if Jesus owned a car today, and He had $9.95 in his pocket, do you REALLY see Him using it toward a chrome fish?
Or do you see Jesus pointing out the exemplary widow who used her last two mites to buy a fish to stick on the back of her dress? Christians tell me they believe in heaven. Do they think once there they will heave a sigh of relief for having purchased a plastic fish, rather than using those few dollars toward the local soup kitchen?
As I passed fish after fish, I started to long for something different—a homemade sign that said, “Rather than buy a plastic fish for my car, I bought a real fish for a family.” That would be a fish that sent a much different message to us non-fishes.
All proudly proclaiming the heightened state of spirituality which I presume the driver has obtained, and the intense state of evangelism dispensed at 80 mph. Never fear, I know I was just passed by a Christian in a Ford F-350, towing a boat, two Jet skis, four bikes and a fish.
People revolt from placing an “I Found It” or “God is my Co-Pilot” on their bright, shiny Black Cadillac. But chrome it up, make it subtle and they smack it on with glee.
In case some of you lunkheads are a bit thick, a few of the fish include the word “Jesus” inside. I am uncertain whether that is a lower spirituality (because it has to be spelled out) or a higher spirituality (because it is spelled out) or simply an option the no-“Jesus” fishes couldn’t afford.
And after seeing so many, I did notice that they are a bit drab. Oh, they are chrome, but the same thing over and over and over. No colors; no cute little sayings. (I started making them up—“O-Fish-all symbol of Jesus” and “Christian Carp-ful” and “My sole is heaven bound” or “Hooked on Jesus” and my favorite, “I’d go to halibut I got Jesus.”)
Seriously—what are we non-fishes supposed to do?
Is it THAT important we know you are some type of Christian, merely by the ornament on your automobile? Clearly by taking the necessary steps to go out of your way, use funds normally designated for your own personal treat (since I am certain you would NEVER take it from the funds you designate for the poor), picking the choicest spot on your vehicle and carefully placing it, you must hope for some reaction from others.
Is it so we know there are Christians out there?
“Honey, look at that. I thought the last Christians had disappeared, but there’s a car with a fish. Must be still around. Oh! And over there, a plate from Vermont…”
Or are we to see how well God has blessed you? I am sure many a family stretching their dollars to take a vacation in their ‘94 Geo Prism are suitably impressed by seeing an RV larger than their neighborhood passing them with a fish firmly affixed.
“Gee, honey. If only we were Christians, we could have camper that requires us to back-and-fill three times to take a turn. Sigh.”
Or are you sending secret signals to other fishes and, not unlike a traveling motorcycle group, plan to meet up at the next good restaurant? After having attended church for 38 years, I can assure you that any restaurant with a parking-lot of fishes is a good place to eat!
Christians may not know what the Synoptic Problem is, but they sure know how to find a tasty affordable buffet when necessary.
‘Course in this day and age, with the varying belief systems within fish world itself, it may be a bit tricky to catch up with the right fish.
“Hey, I see you have a fish on your car, too!”
”Yep. What parish do you belong to?”
“’Parish?’ Yipes! Bad Fish! Bad Fish!”
I presume mostly it comes from a sense of self-pride that one has from being a Christian that makes them want to show it in some way. There is nothing wrong with that, on some levels. I can understand where being a member of a select group causes one to desire that others recognize the difference.
But is putting a trinket on your automobile, when there are so many people in the world who are starving, that much of a symbol of Christianity? Or is it more a mark of shame? Honestly, if Jesus owned a car today, and He had $9.95 in his pocket, do you REALLY see Him using it toward a chrome fish?
Or do you see Jesus pointing out the exemplary widow who used her last two mites to buy a fish to stick on the back of her dress? Christians tell me they believe in heaven. Do they think once there they will heave a sigh of relief for having purchased a plastic fish, rather than using those few dollars toward the local soup kitchen?
As I passed fish after fish, I started to long for something different—a homemade sign that said, “Rather than buy a plastic fish for my car, I bought a real fish for a family.” That would be a fish that sent a much different message to us non-fishes.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Thanks for nothing
I was only partially listening to the news yesterday morning and heard a comment that there was a call for an “International Day of Prayer for Peace.” I did not give the item much attention, and later looked up what this call for an “International Day of Prayer for Peace” was about.
Apparently the pope decreed that Sunday, July 23, 2006 was a day for Praying for Peace. What become more interesting is that I had to search for which Day of Praying for Peace the Pope was talking about! Perhaps he did not know that as recently as Memorial Day, 2006 Pres. Bush had called for an International Day of Prayer for Peace. Or that the World Council of Churches had one September, 21, 2005 and intends to have another September 21, 2006. In fact, they want one EVERY September 21st.
Other groups disagree, holding that June 21st is the appropriate Day for International Prayers for Peace. And, we are beginning to break down into certain groups, calling February 20th an International Day of Prayer for Peace for Iraq.
If you want to join in this international cry for Prayer for Peace, you could have chosen September 21, February 20, May 29, June 21, July 23, or start back over with September 21, again. I would suspect that if I started looking harder, I would find more and more and MORE International Days for Prayer for Peace.
What good are these Prayers for Peace doing? Do theists really believe it affects their god? By what means?
It seems odd that we must have so many. Does God forget that he wants peace unless we have these days often?
I imagine God in the morning:
God: Well, time to review the over-night prayer sheet. What have we got? Joe is asking for health again. O.K. Hmmm. Jim wants world peace. Interesting. Jane is still looking for a new job. Hey, Jack wants world peace too! Look at this! So does Bob, Bill, Bruce, Buster and Barry. Looks like a whole bunch of ‘em want world peace! I haven’t broken out in peace for a long time. Maybe it is high time we had some…
Or do theists believe that if enough people pray for a certain item, God has to do it?
God: HA! Only 100 Million people prayed for peace today. No peace for them.
Angel: I heard that they are calling for an international Day of Prayer for Peace next week.
God: Crap! Do you think that enough people will pray, so I have to step in?
I would presume that people praying to God actually think he is capable of stepping in and exacting peace in some way. Seems a bit useless to pray to a God that is either unable, or uninterested, despite the prayer.
If God is capable AND is able—why don’t we have peace? If the God that is painted as all-powerful, all-knowing, and people are praying to as if he has the ability to have peace, if that God wants peace, I would think it would be impossible for us, as mere humans to have war.
Conversely, if that God wants war, it would be impossible for us to have peace. We have war—it seems quite straightforward that such a God must therefore either be limited by desire or ability.
So why ask him for something that he either can’t or won’t do? Appears to be a waste of time.
Now, I am sure there are some residual effects of these International Day(s) of Prayer for Peace. It may give people a chance to pause and reflect that Peace would be a good thing. Again, though—so what? A momentary thought of “Gee, wouldn’t peace be nice?”
“Gee, wouldn’t reduction in world hunger be nice?”
“Gee, wouldn’t elimination of disease be nice?”
Think of all the wonderful things that we could have an International Day of Prayer for, and we can pat ourselves on the back because instead of solely selfish thoughts, for once we took a few seconds out of the hours we spend on us, and thought, “Gee, it would nice if people didn’t kill each other.”
The most noxious part of this Day of Prayer is that people think they are actually doing something by asking a God that is either non-existent or not able, to do something.
The concept of theism, at times, is very tempting. How great it would be, to have some all-powerful creature out there that has the capability to solve every problem I have, no matter how screwed up it is.
It’s like having an immensely rich father that I could know no matter what financial straits I find myself in; He is there to bail me out ever time. Only better. This father can do miracles, and make people well, and cause entire continents to disappear. Like Daddy Warbucks on supernatural steroids!
And theism goes one step further to re-iterate and reinforce time and time again how pitiful and weak and flawed humans are, and it is only by the most powerful being’s whim that we are allowed to even exist at all.
We can’t have peace on our own. Only a God can do that! So, the only action we can take is to ask, and beg and plead this God to step in and do what we cannot—“have peace.” The theist can proudly get off their knees, dust their hands, and proclaim, “Hey, I did my part. Everyone knows that without a God, wretched humans will only have war. Don’t worry, everybody. I asked God to step in with peace.”
And then next month we can have another International Day of Prayer for Peace, and again the theist can play their pivotal role.
After 10 or 12 of these, does unease overcome the theist, in the form of doubt? Why doesn’t God step in? Is it possible that this God may not want peace? How can that be?
Luckily, there is an answer presented to reassure that doubt—we are too stupid to understand why there is no peace. The theist informs me that God is so smart; HE knows why it is more important to have war than Peace. We think that humans are more intelligent than snakes, which are more intelligent than flowers, which are more intelligent than rocks. It would only make sense that a God is more intelligent than a human, and just like a rock cannot understand basic algebra, humans, apparently, cannot understand the importance of not having peace.
Well, for heaven’s sake, stop asking God, then, to provide peace! I would hate for super-intelligence to do something dumb, just because stupid people asked him! If theists really think that God has an intelligent reason for not preventing war, then do us all a favor and stop asking him to do something you think is stupid!
But theists really don’t think it is less intelligent, or stupid to have peace. So why doesn’t God?
Or perhaps there is some higher purpose, such as free will, or the allowance of war from the fall. Again, if God has a purpose, why is the theist asking him to set this greater purpose aside? Does the theist think that their purpose is better than their own God’s?
If the theist does not know God’s reason, and cannot know it, who are they to question God? I have been told that it is not a matter of circumventing God, but that God likes to be asked.
Yikes! If God “likes” to be asked for peace, why would he EVER provide it? Once he did, we would stop asking! How long has it been since we have had an International Day of Prayer for Curing Polio? Or International Day of Prayer for better communication? Did God stop “liking” those requests? Or did humans knuckle-down and work out the solutions themselves?
Look, I am not asking theists to all voluntary to become peace-negotiators, or handcuff themselves to anti-aircraft guns. Rather, I would ask that instead of wasting time asking a God that obviously doesn’t want something to provide it, get out in their community and work for peace on their own.
Perhaps interact with people of a different culture, race or creed. Get involved with people we would normally be uncomfortable with. Start telling your nation’s leaders you want peace, not war. Start actually doing something, rather than institute yet another “International Day of Prayer for Peace” in which your God demonstrates admirably he has no interest in peace at all.
Apparently the pope decreed that Sunday, July 23, 2006 was a day for Praying for Peace. What become more interesting is that I had to search for which Day of Praying for Peace the Pope was talking about! Perhaps he did not know that as recently as Memorial Day, 2006 Pres. Bush had called for an International Day of Prayer for Peace. Or that the World Council of Churches had one September, 21, 2005 and intends to have another September 21, 2006. In fact, they want one EVERY September 21st.
Other groups disagree, holding that June 21st is the appropriate Day for International Prayers for Peace. And, we are beginning to break down into certain groups, calling February 20th an International Day of Prayer for Peace for Iraq.
If you want to join in this international cry for Prayer for Peace, you could have chosen September 21, February 20, May 29, June 21, July 23, or start back over with September 21, again. I would suspect that if I started looking harder, I would find more and more and MORE International Days for Prayer for Peace.
What good are these Prayers for Peace doing? Do theists really believe it affects their god? By what means?
It seems odd that we must have so many. Does God forget that he wants peace unless we have these days often?
I imagine God in the morning:
God: Well, time to review the over-night prayer sheet. What have we got? Joe is asking for health again. O.K. Hmmm. Jim wants world peace. Interesting. Jane is still looking for a new job. Hey, Jack wants world peace too! Look at this! So does Bob, Bill, Bruce, Buster and Barry. Looks like a whole bunch of ‘em want world peace! I haven’t broken out in peace for a long time. Maybe it is high time we had some…
Or do theists believe that if enough people pray for a certain item, God has to do it?
God: HA! Only 100 Million people prayed for peace today. No peace for them.
Angel: I heard that they are calling for an international Day of Prayer for Peace next week.
God: Crap! Do you think that enough people will pray, so I have to step in?
I would presume that people praying to God actually think he is capable of stepping in and exacting peace in some way. Seems a bit useless to pray to a God that is either unable, or uninterested, despite the prayer.
If God is capable AND is able—why don’t we have peace? If the God that is painted as all-powerful, all-knowing, and people are praying to as if he has the ability to have peace, if that God wants peace, I would think it would be impossible for us, as mere humans to have war.
Conversely, if that God wants war, it would be impossible for us to have peace. We have war—it seems quite straightforward that such a God must therefore either be limited by desire or ability.
So why ask him for something that he either can’t or won’t do? Appears to be a waste of time.
Now, I am sure there are some residual effects of these International Day(s) of Prayer for Peace. It may give people a chance to pause and reflect that Peace would be a good thing. Again, though—so what? A momentary thought of “Gee, wouldn’t peace be nice?”
“Gee, wouldn’t reduction in world hunger be nice?”
“Gee, wouldn’t elimination of disease be nice?”
Think of all the wonderful things that we could have an International Day of Prayer for, and we can pat ourselves on the back because instead of solely selfish thoughts, for once we took a few seconds out of the hours we spend on us, and thought, “Gee, it would nice if people didn’t kill each other.”
The most noxious part of this Day of Prayer is that people think they are actually doing something by asking a God that is either non-existent or not able, to do something.
The concept of theism, at times, is very tempting. How great it would be, to have some all-powerful creature out there that has the capability to solve every problem I have, no matter how screwed up it is.
It’s like having an immensely rich father that I could know no matter what financial straits I find myself in; He is there to bail me out ever time. Only better. This father can do miracles, and make people well, and cause entire continents to disappear. Like Daddy Warbucks on supernatural steroids!
And theism goes one step further to re-iterate and reinforce time and time again how pitiful and weak and flawed humans are, and it is only by the most powerful being’s whim that we are allowed to even exist at all.
We can’t have peace on our own. Only a God can do that! So, the only action we can take is to ask, and beg and plead this God to step in and do what we cannot—“have peace.” The theist can proudly get off their knees, dust their hands, and proclaim, “Hey, I did my part. Everyone knows that without a God, wretched humans will only have war. Don’t worry, everybody. I asked God to step in with peace.”
And then next month we can have another International Day of Prayer for Peace, and again the theist can play their pivotal role.
After 10 or 12 of these, does unease overcome the theist, in the form of doubt? Why doesn’t God step in? Is it possible that this God may not want peace? How can that be?
Luckily, there is an answer presented to reassure that doubt—we are too stupid to understand why there is no peace. The theist informs me that God is so smart; HE knows why it is more important to have war than Peace. We think that humans are more intelligent than snakes, which are more intelligent than flowers, which are more intelligent than rocks. It would only make sense that a God is more intelligent than a human, and just like a rock cannot understand basic algebra, humans, apparently, cannot understand the importance of not having peace.
Well, for heaven’s sake, stop asking God, then, to provide peace! I would hate for super-intelligence to do something dumb, just because stupid people asked him! If theists really think that God has an intelligent reason for not preventing war, then do us all a favor and stop asking him to do something you think is stupid!
But theists really don’t think it is less intelligent, or stupid to have peace. So why doesn’t God?
Or perhaps there is some higher purpose, such as free will, or the allowance of war from the fall. Again, if God has a purpose, why is the theist asking him to set this greater purpose aside? Does the theist think that their purpose is better than their own God’s?
If the theist does not know God’s reason, and cannot know it, who are they to question God? I have been told that it is not a matter of circumventing God, but that God likes to be asked.
Yikes! If God “likes” to be asked for peace, why would he EVER provide it? Once he did, we would stop asking! How long has it been since we have had an International Day of Prayer for Curing Polio? Or International Day of Prayer for better communication? Did God stop “liking” those requests? Or did humans knuckle-down and work out the solutions themselves?
Look, I am not asking theists to all voluntary to become peace-negotiators, or handcuff themselves to anti-aircraft guns. Rather, I would ask that instead of wasting time asking a God that obviously doesn’t want something to provide it, get out in their community and work for peace on their own.
Perhaps interact with people of a different culture, race or creed. Get involved with people we would normally be uncomfortable with. Start telling your nation’s leaders you want peace, not war. Start actually doing something, rather than institute yet another “International Day of Prayer for Peace” in which your God demonstrates admirably he has no interest in peace at all.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Four Zero
Huh.
By the time Mozart reached my age, he had been dead for five years.
(With apologies to Tom Lehrer.)
By the time Mozart reached my age, he had been dead for five years.
(With apologies to Tom Lehrer.)
Monday, July 17, 2006
Lazy Summer Days
I have finished my deck, except for some trim. With a great deal of relief, last night I put away the last of the lumber scraps, and actually planted seed where dirt/lumber/tools have sat for a month killing my lawn.
Every night I came home from my employment, and worked on that deck, hoping to get one more board on, or one more section done, before the sun set, I grabbed a bite to eat and dropped in bed, only to repeat this frenzied activity the next day.
And every Saturday was spent from sun-up to drop-off (where you hit the same nail nine times and it doesn’t sink any further) with Sunday yet another repetition.
I realized that today my big plans for tonight are to turn on the spigot for the sprinkler on the new grass, and later finish up with a rousing bit of turning it off. In the meantime, I am in for a heavy bit of lounging in an inflatable in a pool, and falling in when I get too hot.
I have been hit by lazy summer days.
But this is a blog about theism, not my floating, so I could not help but contemplate—Does God get lazy?
One of the interesting aspects about my journey from theism, was to take the evidence where it leads. (I know. Very cliché.) As a Christian, I had a certain picture of God, and all evidence fit within that picture. “Evil” was a problem to be dealt with, yet maintain that picture.
After I realized Christianity was incorrect, I was still convinced there was a God. But what did that God look like? One basic premise that I have always taken within the concept of God was that the created cannot do what the Creator could not. We should not have more options available than God does.
Within Christianity, this creates the commonly known Problem of Evil, but in theism, it does not. Where does Evil come from? The same place as Good—God. In that journey, I looked about me and thought, “If I do that, so must God.” If I can be surprised, so must God. Otherwise, where did surprise come from? God would not even have known what it was, to create it.
Humans get lazy. No, I am not talking about that perpetual laziness of people that prefer to not work, or need a remote control for everything, even to recline. Even my own current state of laziness, I know that within a week or two I will pick up another project and be off obsessively pursuing it.
But each of us have an afternoon, or an evening, where we know we could accomplish a number of small tasks, and yet we sit and breathing seems like almost too much effort, and relax. We take a lazy day off. Does God?
Yes I am aware of the Christian concept of the seventh day of rest for God, but what does God have to rest from? Does creation wear out a God? What if there was an emergency on that seventh day? Does God wave it off and say, “Not today. I am just too tired to deal with it. We will have to repair the rip in the time/space continuum tomorrow.”
If we, as humans, sometimes need a moment to “re-charge” our batteries, does the entity that created us have to as well? Or is God tireless, in which case, he must be surprised at our weakness. Wait, God can’t be surprised. He knows everything.
I am told that God created everything for a reason. Free will is a common item to blame. Why did he create rest? Why do we need to sleep? Could God have created us to never sleep? Think of the things we could accomplish. What is the reason for sleep?
As I wear my sunglasses in the pool—could God have created us with an additional eyelid of UV protection? Sure, but to the theist, they must claim that either God did not on purpose, or God simply didn’t care. Humans care more about protecting sight than God. Odd.
As I go about my day: walking, tiring, drinking—I think of all the things that God did in creating humans-- that this was the best he could do?
Now I am sure a theist would tell me, “Who are YOU to question what God does? It was the best he could do with what he had to work with.” There must be some reason that God could not have improved the situation. Why not have us survive quite well with only 2 hours of sleep? Or even just 4? Why not sun-repellant skin?
And, in the end, the answer the theist is left with, time and time again is “We don’t know. We don’t know.”
Or is it possible that God got lazy, and made do with what he had put together, because he wanted to lounge in the pool?
Every night I came home from my employment, and worked on that deck, hoping to get one more board on, or one more section done, before the sun set, I grabbed a bite to eat and dropped in bed, only to repeat this frenzied activity the next day.
And every Saturday was spent from sun-up to drop-off (where you hit the same nail nine times and it doesn’t sink any further) with Sunday yet another repetition.
I realized that today my big plans for tonight are to turn on the spigot for the sprinkler on the new grass, and later finish up with a rousing bit of turning it off. In the meantime, I am in for a heavy bit of lounging in an inflatable in a pool, and falling in when I get too hot.
I have been hit by lazy summer days.
But this is a blog about theism, not my floating, so I could not help but contemplate—Does God get lazy?
One of the interesting aspects about my journey from theism, was to take the evidence where it leads. (I know. Very cliché.) As a Christian, I had a certain picture of God, and all evidence fit within that picture. “Evil” was a problem to be dealt with, yet maintain that picture.
After I realized Christianity was incorrect, I was still convinced there was a God. But what did that God look like? One basic premise that I have always taken within the concept of God was that the created cannot do what the Creator could not. We should not have more options available than God does.
Within Christianity, this creates the commonly known Problem of Evil, but in theism, it does not. Where does Evil come from? The same place as Good—God. In that journey, I looked about me and thought, “If I do that, so must God.” If I can be surprised, so must God. Otherwise, where did surprise come from? God would not even have known what it was, to create it.
Humans get lazy. No, I am not talking about that perpetual laziness of people that prefer to not work, or need a remote control for everything, even to recline. Even my own current state of laziness, I know that within a week or two I will pick up another project and be off obsessively pursuing it.
But each of us have an afternoon, or an evening, where we know we could accomplish a number of small tasks, and yet we sit and breathing seems like almost too much effort, and relax. We take a lazy day off. Does God?
Yes I am aware of the Christian concept of the seventh day of rest for God, but what does God have to rest from? Does creation wear out a God? What if there was an emergency on that seventh day? Does God wave it off and say, “Not today. I am just too tired to deal with it. We will have to repair the rip in the time/space continuum tomorrow.”
If we, as humans, sometimes need a moment to “re-charge” our batteries, does the entity that created us have to as well? Or is God tireless, in which case, he must be surprised at our weakness. Wait, God can’t be surprised. He knows everything.
I am told that God created everything for a reason. Free will is a common item to blame. Why did he create rest? Why do we need to sleep? Could God have created us to never sleep? Think of the things we could accomplish. What is the reason for sleep?
As I wear my sunglasses in the pool—could God have created us with an additional eyelid of UV protection? Sure, but to the theist, they must claim that either God did not on purpose, or God simply didn’t care. Humans care more about protecting sight than God. Odd.
As I go about my day: walking, tiring, drinking—I think of all the things that God did in creating humans-- that this was the best he could do?
Now I am sure a theist would tell me, “Who are YOU to question what God does? It was the best he could do with what he had to work with.” There must be some reason that God could not have improved the situation. Why not have us survive quite well with only 2 hours of sleep? Or even just 4? Why not sun-repellant skin?
And, in the end, the answer the theist is left with, time and time again is “We don’t know. We don’t know.”
Or is it possible that God got lazy, and made do with what he had put together, because he wanted to lounge in the pool?
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
"God is busy. Please call back."
Recently, I have been struck by the stories of Christian homosexuals, and their struggle (and often failure) of maintaining a heterosexual lifestyle as demanded by the Christian community in which they live.
The Bible teaches that homosexuality is a sin. Yes, I have seen the arguments and exegesis as to how Romans 1 is teaching that only homosexuality in certain instances is a sin, and is not a universal prohibition. I have seen the arguments of how the Mosaic Law is no longer in effect, and even then did not clearly prohibit homosexuality. I understand how 1 Cor. 6:9 has a difficult interpretation.
All that being said, I find such argumentation as tortured as an inerrantist attempting to align the two (or three) accounts of Judas’ death. In a sentence—it is not persuasive. To be brutally honest with myself, I must admit that the Bible condemns it. (Of course, I am equally convinced that honesty demands the Bible supports slavery, polygamy, genocide, infanticide, and is ambivalent to abortion, alcohol drinking, and the occasional smack of the wife, so as a moral guide, it is hopelessly askew.)
What is the homosexual to do? Why, it is as simple as pie—just like any other sin: “Don’t do it.” I have never seen an argument that an urge to sin is a sin. I may want (for a moment) to cause bodily injury to that thoughtless punk that just cut me off on the highway with a gas-guzzling SUV and spinning rims, but as long as I don’t act upon this momentary compulsion, even Christians would agree that I have not sinned.
In the same way, the homosexual may have a desire, and even an unsolicited thought of engaging in a homosexual act, but as long as they do not act out upon it, we are to understand, sympathize, and even congratulate them upon their restraint. And, even further, to demonstrate their conquering of this sin, they commit to heterosexual marriages, have children, never look at gay porn, and go about happy, healthy lives.
And then commit suicide. Or become depressed. Or spend years in therapy, trying to be what the Christian community defines as “normal.” And get divorced. And become shunned by the very social group that they begged, pleaded and attempted to do everything humanly possible to join.
I am aware of families being torn apart and worse, am aware of a current situation in which a young woman is engaged to a man who is struggling with this exact problem. Mixed marriages (“mixed” meaning a variety to things from religious preference, to race, to social status, to sexual orientation) are rough roads—voluntarily entering one is unimaginable to me.
But to a Christian—why not? After all, homosexuality is just one of many sins. We are all sinners, right? If a person would only marry someone who will never sin, no one would ever marry. Homosexuality may be a bit more difficult, but it is still only a sin.
As I was thinking about this situation, and reading the numerous tales of homosexuals that struggled and fought with “sin” for years and decades, eventually ridding themselves of the religious grapples, and coming to terms with who they are—it struck me. Why doesn’t God eliminate this sin for the individual? A “Problem of Evil” on a one-person basis.
The equation is not complex. I am assured that God hates sin. That God will eventually rid the entire Universe of any sin, or at least contain it in a location inaccessible by those He really loves. I am informed that while philosophers argue over the some ultimate reason that sin must exist, as to each individual God would desire at the least a reduction, if not complete elimination of sin.
So on the one hand we have the Creator of the human, the universe, and the ability to sin that has not only the desire, but the capability to eliminate it.
On the other we have the human that equally desires to be rid of this sin. As I read these tales, I am humbled by the efforts, time, attention and money that is poured into becoming a heterosexual. These are Christians who struggle every minute, and with but one desire—to no longer be this “hideous monster” as portrayed by the Christian world in which they live.
They pray and beg God to take away the desire. They go to counseling and pray and beg God to take away the desire. They go to groups, meetings, buy books, articles, materials, classes, and pray and beg God to take away the desire. They enter programs, week-end retreats, specialized meetings and pray and beg God to take away the desire. For years and years and years. All to no avail.
It is a disservice, even a disgrace, to say they did not try hard enough, or just “wanted to sin,” or “let sin rule their life.” In looking at the effort involved, by the thousands that have recounted these tales, one must appreciate that it is not a simple, “you enjoy sin too much.”
We have a God that can and desires to take away this “sin.” We have an individual that asks (and begs and pleads, and implores) to take away this “sin.” We have a God (so they tell me) that loves humans so much He would kill Himself for them; that desires a relationship with humans. We have a human that is striving with every ounce of energy in their being to also have that relationship, and also please this God. We have a God that claims that holiness can only be obtained through asking God, and we if have faith we can move mountains. We have a human that believes this so much they will travel 1000’s of miles and use precious vacation days to attend one conference in the hope of touching this God and eliminatinge this propensity.
Quite frankly, it appears to be a match made in heaven, so to speak. Why doesn’t it work?
When we discuss the grandiose “Problem of Evil” it is easy to use philosophical justifications, such as “greater good” or “ultimate purpose” or “God’s glory” or (my personal favorite) “we don’t know.” It seems to more difficult when looking an individual in the eye.
Explain to the Christian homosexual how their daily struggle, their family being torn apart, their depression, their lack of self-worth, their incessant pleading on deaf ears, their being shunned by those they desire to socialize with, all is for some unknown “ultimate purpose” of God. Or that it somehow is giving God the glory to wreck a human. Oh, and don’t forget to hand them a “God Loves You” bumper sticker to pour salt in the wound.
And let’s not forget the collaterally injured as well. The spouses that pray, and beg and plead, and attend the meetings, the counseling, the conferences. That hope somehow God would make the spouse so desirable, that all thoughts of homosexuality would forever disappear. That meet privately with pastors, counselors, and friends, and try this technique and read that book, and do everything they can to help the other individual. Only to hear, someday, “I’m sorry, but….”
And God is getting some glory, or devastating those lives too, for some ultimate “good”?
And the children that hear their parents are separating, after having been deprived of their father or mother or both while they are off attending meetings and conferences and counseling and praying and praying and praying.
“God loves you, and he could have changed your parent, but He didn’t. Sorry your home life is impaired, your friends whisper behind your back, you have to move, you have “weekend visitation,” you have to struggle with parents with a perpetual half-look of guilt for not trying hard enough in some way…”
What possible reason could a God give to justify this treatment?
That the individual needs to struggle? In order to grow and mature? How much growing and maturing does a person need! Part of a “maturation” process is to resolve a problem and move on. We learn to sit up, then creep, then crawl, then walk, and then run. Is it “maturing” to continue to struggle to crawl?
Does God desire we get stuck on one “sin” and work the rest of our life on that area, putting every effort we can to resolve it? What is “maturing” about that?
I thought part of the idea of trusting in God was to see what He CAN do, not what He REFUSES to do.
Is it the individual’s fault? For not working hard enough? For not conquering sin? Wait a minute—if an individual can conquer sin on their own, why do we need a God? If they cannot, how are they to conquer sin? By asking God? That is what the person is doing! If God can’t conquer it, what is the point of asking Him? If he can, and refuses to, what is the point of asking Him?
On Sunday we are informed, through song, that God is an “Awesome God” and “Loves the whole world” and in the sermon I am told that all things are possible through God, and God Hates sin, and God wants to take away our sin, if we would just ask, and that the Holy Spirit is working in lives.
On Monday, the homosexual is informed, “Oh, but God can’t do THAT….”
Even as a Christian I was appalled at the harsh treatment Christians have given homosexuals. Recently, I have become more dismayed as well. As shocking and horrid as “God hates Fags” can be, the long, slow, torturous death of “We haven’t solved this sin yet, so let’s try one more thing, since God can’t seem to do it…” is equally as putrid.
I am deeply concerned as I watch this young couple enter a relationship, with the thought of “With God we can solve this” after having seen the “solutions” of destroyed homes, wrecked lives, and ostracized persons.
I know that Christians truly believe this, and can’t help but be convinced. I wish they would ask themselves, “Why it is that God won’t intervene?” and honestly consider the heartache that would be avoided by realizing God can’t heal amputees, nor change homosexuals.
The Bible teaches that homosexuality is a sin. Yes, I have seen the arguments and exegesis as to how Romans 1 is teaching that only homosexuality in certain instances is a sin, and is not a universal prohibition. I have seen the arguments of how the Mosaic Law is no longer in effect, and even then did not clearly prohibit homosexuality. I understand how 1 Cor. 6:9 has a difficult interpretation.
All that being said, I find such argumentation as tortured as an inerrantist attempting to align the two (or three) accounts of Judas’ death. In a sentence—it is not persuasive. To be brutally honest with myself, I must admit that the Bible condemns it. (Of course, I am equally convinced that honesty demands the Bible supports slavery, polygamy, genocide, infanticide, and is ambivalent to abortion, alcohol drinking, and the occasional smack of the wife, so as a moral guide, it is hopelessly askew.)
What is the homosexual to do? Why, it is as simple as pie—just like any other sin: “Don’t do it.” I have never seen an argument that an urge to sin is a sin. I may want (for a moment) to cause bodily injury to that thoughtless punk that just cut me off on the highway with a gas-guzzling SUV and spinning rims, but as long as I don’t act upon this momentary compulsion, even Christians would agree that I have not sinned.
In the same way, the homosexual may have a desire, and even an unsolicited thought of engaging in a homosexual act, but as long as they do not act out upon it, we are to understand, sympathize, and even congratulate them upon their restraint. And, even further, to demonstrate their conquering of this sin, they commit to heterosexual marriages, have children, never look at gay porn, and go about happy, healthy lives.
And then commit suicide. Or become depressed. Or spend years in therapy, trying to be what the Christian community defines as “normal.” And get divorced. And become shunned by the very social group that they begged, pleaded and attempted to do everything humanly possible to join.
I am aware of families being torn apart and worse, am aware of a current situation in which a young woman is engaged to a man who is struggling with this exact problem. Mixed marriages (“mixed” meaning a variety to things from religious preference, to race, to social status, to sexual orientation) are rough roads—voluntarily entering one is unimaginable to me.
But to a Christian—why not? After all, homosexuality is just one of many sins. We are all sinners, right? If a person would only marry someone who will never sin, no one would ever marry. Homosexuality may be a bit more difficult, but it is still only a sin.
As I was thinking about this situation, and reading the numerous tales of homosexuals that struggled and fought with “sin” for years and decades, eventually ridding themselves of the religious grapples, and coming to terms with who they are—it struck me. Why doesn’t God eliminate this sin for the individual? A “Problem of Evil” on a one-person basis.
The equation is not complex. I am assured that God hates sin. That God will eventually rid the entire Universe of any sin, or at least contain it in a location inaccessible by those He really loves. I am informed that while philosophers argue over the some ultimate reason that sin must exist, as to each individual God would desire at the least a reduction, if not complete elimination of sin.
So on the one hand we have the Creator of the human, the universe, and the ability to sin that has not only the desire, but the capability to eliminate it.
On the other we have the human that equally desires to be rid of this sin. As I read these tales, I am humbled by the efforts, time, attention and money that is poured into becoming a heterosexual. These are Christians who struggle every minute, and with but one desire—to no longer be this “hideous monster” as portrayed by the Christian world in which they live.
They pray and beg God to take away the desire. They go to counseling and pray and beg God to take away the desire. They go to groups, meetings, buy books, articles, materials, classes, and pray and beg God to take away the desire. They enter programs, week-end retreats, specialized meetings and pray and beg God to take away the desire. For years and years and years. All to no avail.
It is a disservice, even a disgrace, to say they did not try hard enough, or just “wanted to sin,” or “let sin rule their life.” In looking at the effort involved, by the thousands that have recounted these tales, one must appreciate that it is not a simple, “you enjoy sin too much.”
We have a God that can and desires to take away this “sin.” We have an individual that asks (and begs and pleads, and implores) to take away this “sin.” We have a God (so they tell me) that loves humans so much He would kill Himself for them; that desires a relationship with humans. We have a human that is striving with every ounce of energy in their being to also have that relationship, and also please this God. We have a God that claims that holiness can only be obtained through asking God, and we if have faith we can move mountains. We have a human that believes this so much they will travel 1000’s of miles and use precious vacation days to attend one conference in the hope of touching this God and eliminatinge this propensity.
Quite frankly, it appears to be a match made in heaven, so to speak. Why doesn’t it work?
When we discuss the grandiose “Problem of Evil” it is easy to use philosophical justifications, such as “greater good” or “ultimate purpose” or “God’s glory” or (my personal favorite) “we don’t know.” It seems to more difficult when looking an individual in the eye.
Explain to the Christian homosexual how their daily struggle, their family being torn apart, their depression, their lack of self-worth, their incessant pleading on deaf ears, their being shunned by those they desire to socialize with, all is for some unknown “ultimate purpose” of God. Or that it somehow is giving God the glory to wreck a human. Oh, and don’t forget to hand them a “God Loves You” bumper sticker to pour salt in the wound.
And let’s not forget the collaterally injured as well. The spouses that pray, and beg and plead, and attend the meetings, the counseling, the conferences. That hope somehow God would make the spouse so desirable, that all thoughts of homosexuality would forever disappear. That meet privately with pastors, counselors, and friends, and try this technique and read that book, and do everything they can to help the other individual. Only to hear, someday, “I’m sorry, but….”
And God is getting some glory, or devastating those lives too, for some ultimate “good”?
And the children that hear their parents are separating, after having been deprived of their father or mother or both while they are off attending meetings and conferences and counseling and praying and praying and praying.
“God loves you, and he could have changed your parent, but He didn’t. Sorry your home life is impaired, your friends whisper behind your back, you have to move, you have “weekend visitation,” you have to struggle with parents with a perpetual half-look of guilt for not trying hard enough in some way…”
What possible reason could a God give to justify this treatment?
That the individual needs to struggle? In order to grow and mature? How much growing and maturing does a person need! Part of a “maturation” process is to resolve a problem and move on. We learn to sit up, then creep, then crawl, then walk, and then run. Is it “maturing” to continue to struggle to crawl?
Does God desire we get stuck on one “sin” and work the rest of our life on that area, putting every effort we can to resolve it? What is “maturing” about that?
I thought part of the idea of trusting in God was to see what He CAN do, not what He REFUSES to do.
Is it the individual’s fault? For not working hard enough? For not conquering sin? Wait a minute—if an individual can conquer sin on their own, why do we need a God? If they cannot, how are they to conquer sin? By asking God? That is what the person is doing! If God can’t conquer it, what is the point of asking Him? If he can, and refuses to, what is the point of asking Him?
On Sunday we are informed, through song, that God is an “Awesome God” and “Loves the whole world” and in the sermon I am told that all things are possible through God, and God Hates sin, and God wants to take away our sin, if we would just ask, and that the Holy Spirit is working in lives.
On Monday, the homosexual is informed, “Oh, but God can’t do THAT….”
Even as a Christian I was appalled at the harsh treatment Christians have given homosexuals. Recently, I have become more dismayed as well. As shocking and horrid as “God hates Fags” can be, the long, slow, torturous death of “We haven’t solved this sin yet, so let’s try one more thing, since God can’t seem to do it…” is equally as putrid.
I am deeply concerned as I watch this young couple enter a relationship, with the thought of “With God we can solve this” after having seen the “solutions” of destroyed homes, wrecked lives, and ostracized persons.
I know that Christians truly believe this, and can’t help but be convinced. I wish they would ask themselves, “Why it is that God won’t intervene?” and honestly consider the heartache that would be avoided by realizing God can’t heal amputees, nor change homosexuals.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
I went to Church on Sunday
Primarily because my children were involved in a program, I needed to get out of the house, and it was a lovely Sunday Father’s Day.
I am always curious as to what my own reaction will be. At one time, I was desperate for answers. I looked forward to church, simply to interact with people with questions I was having. Inevitably, I left with more frustration, as the answers given were so standard fair. Nothing I hadn’t thought of countless times before.
I reached a point where I became irritated at church. I wanted to ask questions, and knew that those about me were not interested in those questions. They wanted the standard response that with a God everything will be all right, and all one has to do is believe, and just have faith. So I became completely silent in church. That was not good either.
I went through a stage of detached interest. Where I would listen for a bit, scream inside my head at the simplicity of the information, tune out, and through boredom, re-tune back in to see if anything had changed. It hadn’t.
I became resentful toward the church. Why couldn’t it address my questions? Why couldn’t I manage to have more than one conversation in a row with the same pastor/teacher/elder/deacon? It seemed that after just one “session” I was written off as too hard of a sell. Too hard of a package.
I became frustrated with the church. Here I was, anxious to be actively involved in some way, and they were turning me away! There was no place for me to fit. I could not teach, I would not be allowed to help; I could not attend anything remotely suited toward my interests. There was nothing for me to do, but be a lump in the pew and keep my mouth shut.
I haven’t attended a church since December or so. Therefore, I was curious as to what my reaction would be after six months.
After seeing the program, the singing started. Same songs I was familiar with. I looked inside. Was I angry? Nope. Was I frustrated? Nope. Was I interested, bored, anything? Nope, nope, nope. What I found, to my complete surprise, was that I wasn’t feeling anything at all.
I looked at the people about me and thought for a moment how odd it was to be so self-convinced of something that was totally made up in the human mind. But it was with a quick thought of “how odd” and nothing more.
The preaching started with the customary verse-reading, slide-presentation, same-old interpretation that the audience wanted to hear. I found I could listen and not tear my hair out because….I didn’t care.
I listened, reflected on what the pastor said, and didn’t resonate in any way. He may was well have been giving a lecture on interest-rate fluctuation.
I am very lucky to live in the age of the internet. Although I do not say it enough, I enjoy and appreciate the interaction with theists that take time to respond, and answer, and reflect with me. That interaction, I realize, has made me apathetic to attending church.
Oh, I miss the friends, the socialization, the camaraderie found in a church—sure! But what I am engaged in, the church is unprepared. It is here that I have found the theists that are my “church.”
So, to any theist that has responded with any degree of civility to me, both here and on the forums, I owe you a cup of coffee, or a beer, your preference.
It is this interaction that has kept my interest far more than 1000 sermons could ever do.
I am always curious as to what my own reaction will be. At one time, I was desperate for answers. I looked forward to church, simply to interact with people with questions I was having. Inevitably, I left with more frustration, as the answers given were so standard fair. Nothing I hadn’t thought of countless times before.
I reached a point where I became irritated at church. I wanted to ask questions, and knew that those about me were not interested in those questions. They wanted the standard response that with a God everything will be all right, and all one has to do is believe, and just have faith. So I became completely silent in church. That was not good either.
I went through a stage of detached interest. Where I would listen for a bit, scream inside my head at the simplicity of the information, tune out, and through boredom, re-tune back in to see if anything had changed. It hadn’t.
I became resentful toward the church. Why couldn’t it address my questions? Why couldn’t I manage to have more than one conversation in a row with the same pastor/teacher/elder/deacon? It seemed that after just one “session” I was written off as too hard of a sell. Too hard of a package.
I became frustrated with the church. Here I was, anxious to be actively involved in some way, and they were turning me away! There was no place for me to fit. I could not teach, I would not be allowed to help; I could not attend anything remotely suited toward my interests. There was nothing for me to do, but be a lump in the pew and keep my mouth shut.
I haven’t attended a church since December or so. Therefore, I was curious as to what my reaction would be after six months.
After seeing the program, the singing started. Same songs I was familiar with. I looked inside. Was I angry? Nope. Was I frustrated? Nope. Was I interested, bored, anything? Nope, nope, nope. What I found, to my complete surprise, was that I wasn’t feeling anything at all.
I looked at the people about me and thought for a moment how odd it was to be so self-convinced of something that was totally made up in the human mind. But it was with a quick thought of “how odd” and nothing more.
The preaching started with the customary verse-reading, slide-presentation, same-old interpretation that the audience wanted to hear. I found I could listen and not tear my hair out because….I didn’t care.
I listened, reflected on what the pastor said, and didn’t resonate in any way. He may was well have been giving a lecture on interest-rate fluctuation.
I am very lucky to live in the age of the internet. Although I do not say it enough, I enjoy and appreciate the interaction with theists that take time to respond, and answer, and reflect with me. That interaction, I realize, has made me apathetic to attending church.
Oh, I miss the friends, the socialization, the camaraderie found in a church—sure! But what I am engaged in, the church is unprepared. It is here that I have found the theists that are my “church.”
So, to any theist that has responded with any degree of civility to me, both here and on the forums, I owe you a cup of coffee, or a beer, your preference.
It is this interaction that has kept my interest far more than 1000 sermons could ever do.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Make Sure your Contractor is Insured
Sorry for the break, but I have been too busy to sneeze.
I have been working on building an additional deck on our house. I have never built a deck before, so I am half looking forward to it, half scared of it and half too busy to be either.
I find myself in the same pattern as most such projects I contemplate. First I get numerous books on the subject and pour over them. I want to read all the short-cuts, the mistakes to avoid, and look ahead so that I can see the big picture as to what each step will entail, and why it is important.
Then I start to put together a plan. I tend to plan/build at the same time on projects, allowing for additional complications, and constant corrections of the last step’s mistakes. When I start off, I fully intend to be absolutely level, every corner true, every angle perfect, every nail sunk correctly. As I move along, with my personality, I find myself saying, “Close enough” and moving on.
There are those that take hours and create the perfect item, and others that take no time at all and slop together whatever works for the moment. Although I strive to be the former, I am more in the middle, if I was to be honest. Not quite a slopper, but not quite a perfectionist, either.
Unfortunately, what I most certainly am is obsessive about a project. It becomes all-consuming. I am thinking decks as I drive, thinking decks as I get home and look the situation over; I am waking up at 3:00 a.m. with an “A-ha! That is how I can frame that together.” When I come home each night I work on the deck ‘till dark.
Don’t get me wrong—I enjoy it. I envision the perfect deck, with boards perfectly in place, and each item correctly held together, and I enjoy working toward that end. I find myself constantly limited by time and energy. I only have so much time to input and being only one person, I can only do so much.
What if God would build my deck for me?
He had all the time in the world to plan a deck. If I want to complete this project by July, at some point I have to put hammer to nail, and begin putting it together with what I have. God, on the other hand, had literally infinity to plan. More than the phrase, “all the time in the world.” More than billions and billions of years, God could be planning the deck down to the slightest sliver and grain of dirt, and do it all over again another million times!
I have to eye my measurements. As good as I can be, I still have to look and place a mark as close as I can. God can see down to the very atoms themselves, and see what is one too many, or one too few atoms. His boards would be cut to the perfect measurement every time.
God created the idea of mathematics, the concept of a right angle, the wood itself, the chemical composition of cement and steel, even the contour of the land. He would know his shovel was to hit a rock before sending it into the dirt.
Have you ever held up a long board, with a level on it, and try to nail it onto another board? One hand to hold the board, one hand to hold the nail, one hand to hammer and one hand to hold the level. Too many items. So one pre-sets the nail, holds the board up by squishing it against the other board with an arm/chest/knee/foot, balancing the level carefully on top and wildly swing the hammer in the direction of the nail hoping it will strike at the precise moment when the board has pendulumed between too far, and not enough.
At which time, one’s child says, “DAD! Watcha doing?” Sending the whole mess in a cascade of hammer, level, board and person.
God would have no need of that. He has power. He CAN hold a board, level, nail, and hammer, and get it all perfectly right, at just the right time. Right down to the very minute depth the nail needs to be.
I find myself dragging a bit on Monday. After a long weekend, with little rest, and sun burnt shoulders, and tired arms, legs and back, I am thankful I have a break from physical labor. God could work all day and all night with nary a break.
You would think that God could build a perfect deck, right?
But then I look at the world about me. Even theists acknowledge it is far from perfect, and devise masterful reasons as to its lack of perfection. Either it is humans’ fault, or for some strange reason, it is how God intended it. It may be karma, or free will, or the fall, or the “ends justify the means” or to glorify himself, or any other of numerous reasons.
I saw an exchange a long time ago in a discussion where a theist says, “Do YOU think you could do better than God in how He made this world?” I have not forgotten the reply: “Sure, all I have to do is make the exact same world, and today feed one starving child, and the world is better.”
Think about it. The same wars occur, the same atrocities, the same murders, and genocides, and terrorist acts, and one child fed on one day, and this is a better world than what God could come up with.
If one contemplates this long enough, an awful truth emerges. The best God could do is have that child starve. The best God can do is all about us. Marriages must include abusive husbands who eventually, foreseeably, kill their submissive spouses. AIDS must ravage the African continent. Countless sons and daughters must be subjected to sexual abuse by relatives, which is passively dismissed by other relatives.
Every bone broken, every finger crushed, every sickness uncured until the next decade is all necessary in God’s “best” world.
God had billions and billions and billions of years to plan, improve, modify, discard, and change how this universe was to be fashioned, and after all that time, could not resolve how to keep that one child from starving to death today. That was too much for him. It would not have fit in his plan.
And God, with all his power, could not prevent polio from crippling millions of people. That was much too much for him to tackle. It took humans to resolve that problem.
Theists use these reasons to justify why this is the best God can do. “Humans need free will”—so all those animals had to become extinct? “It all works toward a Good end”—God needs a teenager to die in a car crash, or else the “good end” will fall apart? “Humans did it with the fall”—and for Billions and Billions and Billions of years before that, God didn’t see it coming?
I am told that God must be so much smarter than I am, and therefore must have a good reason for doing this. (Although one does not necessarily follow from the other.) I am told to “wait and see, wait and see” and maybe someday (after it is too late) I will understand why this super-smart, super-powerful, super-planner of a God must have a reason for Alzheimer’s disease.
A theist has to say that this world, with all its problems, is either the Best that a God can do, or God didn’t give it his Best.
Either way, I think I will build my own deck. I have seen what people claim is God’s work, and it needs some improvement.
I have been working on building an additional deck on our house. I have never built a deck before, so I am half looking forward to it, half scared of it and half too busy to be either.
I find myself in the same pattern as most such projects I contemplate. First I get numerous books on the subject and pour over them. I want to read all the short-cuts, the mistakes to avoid, and look ahead so that I can see the big picture as to what each step will entail, and why it is important.
Then I start to put together a plan. I tend to plan/build at the same time on projects, allowing for additional complications, and constant corrections of the last step’s mistakes. When I start off, I fully intend to be absolutely level, every corner true, every angle perfect, every nail sunk correctly. As I move along, with my personality, I find myself saying, “Close enough” and moving on.
There are those that take hours and create the perfect item, and others that take no time at all and slop together whatever works for the moment. Although I strive to be the former, I am more in the middle, if I was to be honest. Not quite a slopper, but not quite a perfectionist, either.
Unfortunately, what I most certainly am is obsessive about a project. It becomes all-consuming. I am thinking decks as I drive, thinking decks as I get home and look the situation over; I am waking up at 3:00 a.m. with an “A-ha! That is how I can frame that together.” When I come home each night I work on the deck ‘till dark.
Don’t get me wrong—I enjoy it. I envision the perfect deck, with boards perfectly in place, and each item correctly held together, and I enjoy working toward that end. I find myself constantly limited by time and energy. I only have so much time to input and being only one person, I can only do so much.
What if God would build my deck for me?
He had all the time in the world to plan a deck. If I want to complete this project by July, at some point I have to put hammer to nail, and begin putting it together with what I have. God, on the other hand, had literally infinity to plan. More than the phrase, “all the time in the world.” More than billions and billions of years, God could be planning the deck down to the slightest sliver and grain of dirt, and do it all over again another million times!
I have to eye my measurements. As good as I can be, I still have to look and place a mark as close as I can. God can see down to the very atoms themselves, and see what is one too many, or one too few atoms. His boards would be cut to the perfect measurement every time.
God created the idea of mathematics, the concept of a right angle, the wood itself, the chemical composition of cement and steel, even the contour of the land. He would know his shovel was to hit a rock before sending it into the dirt.
Have you ever held up a long board, with a level on it, and try to nail it onto another board? One hand to hold the board, one hand to hold the nail, one hand to hammer and one hand to hold the level. Too many items. So one pre-sets the nail, holds the board up by squishing it against the other board with an arm/chest/knee/foot, balancing the level carefully on top and wildly swing the hammer in the direction of the nail hoping it will strike at the precise moment when the board has pendulumed between too far, and not enough.
At which time, one’s child says, “DAD! Watcha doing?” Sending the whole mess in a cascade of hammer, level, board and person.
God would have no need of that. He has power. He CAN hold a board, level, nail, and hammer, and get it all perfectly right, at just the right time. Right down to the very minute depth the nail needs to be.
I find myself dragging a bit on Monday. After a long weekend, with little rest, and sun burnt shoulders, and tired arms, legs and back, I am thankful I have a break from physical labor. God could work all day and all night with nary a break.
You would think that God could build a perfect deck, right?
But then I look at the world about me. Even theists acknowledge it is far from perfect, and devise masterful reasons as to its lack of perfection. Either it is humans’ fault, or for some strange reason, it is how God intended it. It may be karma, or free will, or the fall, or the “ends justify the means” or to glorify himself, or any other of numerous reasons.
I saw an exchange a long time ago in a discussion where a theist says, “Do YOU think you could do better than God in how He made this world?” I have not forgotten the reply: “Sure, all I have to do is make the exact same world, and today feed one starving child, and the world is better.”
Think about it. The same wars occur, the same atrocities, the same murders, and genocides, and terrorist acts, and one child fed on one day, and this is a better world than what God could come up with.
If one contemplates this long enough, an awful truth emerges. The best God could do is have that child starve. The best God can do is all about us. Marriages must include abusive husbands who eventually, foreseeably, kill their submissive spouses. AIDS must ravage the African continent. Countless sons and daughters must be subjected to sexual abuse by relatives, which is passively dismissed by other relatives.
Every bone broken, every finger crushed, every sickness uncured until the next decade is all necessary in God’s “best” world.
God had billions and billions and billions of years to plan, improve, modify, discard, and change how this universe was to be fashioned, and after all that time, could not resolve how to keep that one child from starving to death today. That was too much for him. It would not have fit in his plan.
And God, with all his power, could not prevent polio from crippling millions of people. That was much too much for him to tackle. It took humans to resolve that problem.
Theists use these reasons to justify why this is the best God can do. “Humans need free will”—so all those animals had to become extinct? “It all works toward a Good end”—God needs a teenager to die in a car crash, or else the “good end” will fall apart? “Humans did it with the fall”—and for Billions and Billions and Billions of years before that, God didn’t see it coming?
I am told that God must be so much smarter than I am, and therefore must have a good reason for doing this. (Although one does not necessarily follow from the other.) I am told to “wait and see, wait and see” and maybe someday (after it is too late) I will understand why this super-smart, super-powerful, super-planner of a God must have a reason for Alzheimer’s disease.
A theist has to say that this world, with all its problems, is either the Best that a God can do, or God didn’t give it his Best.
Either way, I think I will build my own deck. I have seen what people claim is God’s work, and it needs some improvement.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Want Christian Fries with That?
John W. Loftus wrote an article on being a preacher that got me thinking. While I was never a pastor, I certainly was a member of many a church, and can well-recall the infighting that took place.
Both of my parents were always either a Deacon or a Deaconess. The only time they weren’t was in the required sabbatical after serving two terms, and even then they were on the missions committee, the Sunday School committee, etc. They were Sunday School teachers, VBS teachers, Awana Teachers. We seemed to attend every service there was. Sometimes it seemed they made up services, just to have something to do!
And just like every other kid, when they talked in hushed tones, and whispers on the way home from church, I listened as hard as I could, without appearing to be listening. And I was observant enough to figure out some, just by watching.
I remember one lady that everyone knew was fighting with another family and made it a point to always sit as far from them as possible at every function. God could not mark her tardy, because she was certainly THERE, but we all knew she had reserved enough of her humanity to demonstrate she was not happy about the other family being there. If I was in that family, I would not have wanted to be in her headlights in a dark alley!
I remember one Sunday the adults had to have a “joint” Sunday School, because most of the teachers called in sick in protest of the new Sunday School Teacher Superintendent’s policy change.
I knew of a church in our area that split, and my parents happened to support the “wrong” side of the split. I knew this because the pastor that stayed became the Principal at our Christian school and made our lives hell. (Funny bit. This Pastor/Principal once called in the youth pastor of our church and started to describe this “horrid” family that was in his church, and after a few moments, our youth pastor realized he was talking about us. The youth pastor was my brother-in-law! Because of the difference in name, the Pastor did not realize it!)
In my adult life, I know of a Christian college student taking classes towards becoming an accountant. So a church made him their treasurer. After he embezzled $90,000, they re-thought this position.
I know pastor’s wives that had drug habits, pastor’s that had affairs, and deacons with habits that would curl your toes.
I have sat in many a church discussion, and watched how people were unwilling to share with other Christians their REAL problems. They knew that it would go from “prayer request” to local gossip in less time than it takes to sneeze. I watched business meetings where a group of people walked out because some pictures were taken off the wall.
I have seen meanness, pettiness, craziness, and downright viciousness in churches that would make schoolyard bullies blush with shame. Christians are well-aware of it, and play their cards close to their chest, always afraid of what the next clash, or next fight or next issue will rear up. I have seen this since I was a very small child.
Yet knowing this, Christians actively seek out “Christian” things. If two business advertise, “Decks built by Christians” and “Decks built by atheists” guess which one the Christian will go to? Add a fish symbol in the corner of your yellow pages advertisement. That is enough to bring in Christians.
On Sunday, Christians would not trust another Christian with one dollar. On Monday, they will not go anywhere else! It is amusing to watch the distrust flow between various Christian groups, yet if one is going to buy a wrench, a Christian hardware store is the preferred place to do one’s shopping.
Why? We can see Christians cheat, steal, lie, divorce and embezzle just like everyone else. We can equally see Christians that work hard, are honest, and a hand shake is a promise. But simply putting “Christian” over the door does not guarantee which one we will get! Yet time and time again, we can see that having a “Christian owned and operated business” (like a local shop I know) telling Christians to come on in, everything is fine.
If Christian churches were not so filled with as many problems, fighting, and issues as any other human institution it would be one thing. But it IS filled with these problems. If you don’t trust them on Sunday, why would you trust them the other six days of the week?
I knew of a Deacon I would never, EVER let my daughter be alone with. ‘Nuff said. Yet people flock to “Christian” day-cares. Why? Because there is a reassurance in that name, “Christian.” It means that a person is safe. That only good, upstanding moral people would ever DARE operate a business with “Christian” in its name. The same people that the same Christians don’t trust on Sunday.
Do you really think that a Christian mechanic will tighten your nuts and bolts in a more Christ-like manner than a Pagan mechanic? If your child was being rushed into the hospital for an emergency, would you call ahead to make sure there is a Christian doctor with Christian nurses available? Using medicine that has solely been developed by Christians, of course.
Ulp—forgot. Medical research is partially dependant on the evolutionary theory. Perhaps the medicine is not so Christian after all.
We have Christian Songs, Christian Bands, Christian Books, Christian Movies, Christian Nations, Christian holidays, and now we are entering into Christian Businesses. Do people really believe that Jesus would have only gone to a Christian donkey-owner to ride the Triumphal Entry? Rented the Upper Room from a Christian Landlord? Bought his sandals from a Christian sandal-maker?
Look, go where you want. Listen and do what you desire. From what I observe, “God is my co-Pilot” on your car means I am just as likely to get the finger from you as anyone else.
Both of my parents were always either a Deacon or a Deaconess. The only time they weren’t was in the required sabbatical after serving two terms, and even then they were on the missions committee, the Sunday School committee, etc. They were Sunday School teachers, VBS teachers, Awana Teachers. We seemed to attend every service there was. Sometimes it seemed they made up services, just to have something to do!
And just like every other kid, when they talked in hushed tones, and whispers on the way home from church, I listened as hard as I could, without appearing to be listening. And I was observant enough to figure out some, just by watching.
I remember one lady that everyone knew was fighting with another family and made it a point to always sit as far from them as possible at every function. God could not mark her tardy, because she was certainly THERE, but we all knew she had reserved enough of her humanity to demonstrate she was not happy about the other family being there. If I was in that family, I would not have wanted to be in her headlights in a dark alley!
I remember one Sunday the adults had to have a “joint” Sunday School, because most of the teachers called in sick in protest of the new Sunday School Teacher Superintendent’s policy change.
I knew of a church in our area that split, and my parents happened to support the “wrong” side of the split. I knew this because the pastor that stayed became the Principal at our Christian school and made our lives hell. (Funny bit. This Pastor/Principal once called in the youth pastor of our church and started to describe this “horrid” family that was in his church, and after a few moments, our youth pastor realized he was talking about us. The youth pastor was my brother-in-law! Because of the difference in name, the Pastor did not realize it!)
In my adult life, I know of a Christian college student taking classes towards becoming an accountant. So a church made him their treasurer. After he embezzled $90,000, they re-thought this position.
I know pastor’s wives that had drug habits, pastor’s that had affairs, and deacons with habits that would curl your toes.
I have sat in many a church discussion, and watched how people were unwilling to share with other Christians their REAL problems. They knew that it would go from “prayer request” to local gossip in less time than it takes to sneeze. I watched business meetings where a group of people walked out because some pictures were taken off the wall.
I have seen meanness, pettiness, craziness, and downright viciousness in churches that would make schoolyard bullies blush with shame. Christians are well-aware of it, and play their cards close to their chest, always afraid of what the next clash, or next fight or next issue will rear up. I have seen this since I was a very small child.
Yet knowing this, Christians actively seek out “Christian” things. If two business advertise, “Decks built by Christians” and “Decks built by atheists” guess which one the Christian will go to? Add a fish symbol in the corner of your yellow pages advertisement. That is enough to bring in Christians.
On Sunday, Christians would not trust another Christian with one dollar. On Monday, they will not go anywhere else! It is amusing to watch the distrust flow between various Christian groups, yet if one is going to buy a wrench, a Christian hardware store is the preferred place to do one’s shopping.
Why? We can see Christians cheat, steal, lie, divorce and embezzle just like everyone else. We can equally see Christians that work hard, are honest, and a hand shake is a promise. But simply putting “Christian” over the door does not guarantee which one we will get! Yet time and time again, we can see that having a “Christian owned and operated business” (like a local shop I know) telling Christians to come on in, everything is fine.
If Christian churches were not so filled with as many problems, fighting, and issues as any other human institution it would be one thing. But it IS filled with these problems. If you don’t trust them on Sunday, why would you trust them the other six days of the week?
I knew of a Deacon I would never, EVER let my daughter be alone with. ‘Nuff said. Yet people flock to “Christian” day-cares. Why? Because there is a reassurance in that name, “Christian.” It means that a person is safe. That only good, upstanding moral people would ever DARE operate a business with “Christian” in its name. The same people that the same Christians don’t trust on Sunday.
Do you really think that a Christian mechanic will tighten your nuts and bolts in a more Christ-like manner than a Pagan mechanic? If your child was being rushed into the hospital for an emergency, would you call ahead to make sure there is a Christian doctor with Christian nurses available? Using medicine that has solely been developed by Christians, of course.
Ulp—forgot. Medical research is partially dependant on the evolutionary theory. Perhaps the medicine is not so Christian after all.
We have Christian Songs, Christian Bands, Christian Books, Christian Movies, Christian Nations, Christian holidays, and now we are entering into Christian Businesses. Do people really believe that Jesus would have only gone to a Christian donkey-owner to ride the Triumphal Entry? Rented the Upper Room from a Christian Landlord? Bought his sandals from a Christian sandal-maker?
Look, go where you want. Listen and do what you desire. From what I observe, “God is my co-Pilot” on your car means I am just as likely to get the finger from you as anyone else.
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