Belated Sunday Thoughts

I've been feeling ill(er than normal) and yesterday I was pretty unfocussed, so I didn't really have a chance to sit down and write anything up. I do have a few queued things but I like to do the Sunday Thoughts as something new, so for lack of any specific ideas, I decided to go get a random bible verse.

Keep on loving each other as brothers. Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it.—Hebrews 13:1-2

I would be willing to bet that no matter how good or nice a person you are, and if you're a Christian no matter how much you take the idea of love for your neighbor seriously, that you probably have found yourself frequently having a hard time with this.

It's hard to be friendly towards strangers sometimes. If you're having a bad day, even people you know and care about might get the brush-off or the curt word, and certainly a stranger is likely to. The world we live in often seems to move at such a fast pace that stopping to say hi to someone and chat with them is something we don't consider. If you live or work in an area that has a fair amount of crime, maybe you just aren't sure how safe it is to stop and talk to a stranger. And of course, if you're not naturally outgoing, you're unlikely to chat someone up randomly.

But at the same time, it's good to try to remember that most of the people you run across in random situations are probably decent enough folks who might also be having a bad day and might be cheered up by someone smiling at them and saying hi. If you're standing in line at a store or waiting for a bus or train or taking a walk after dinner, why not just try that? You don't have to get into a long conversation; just a greeting and few lines of casual chit-chat could make a big difference to someone.

Smile at your server in a restaurant or the checkout clerk. Say 'Have a nice day' to the bus driver as you debark. Hold a door open for someone who has their arms full. Pick up something someone dropped and hand it back to them. All of these are little ways to acknowledge the presence of another human being, a tiny sympathetic gesture to remind them (and you) that we are all connected in some fashion. That's what "brotherhood" and "love thy neighbor" mean to me, and I think if more people made the effort to do these things, the world would be a nicer place... if only for a little while.

Sunday Thoughts

Sometimes, when we speak of people with talent, we say they have a gift. Religious people, particularly Christians, may call it a gift from God. Something bestowed upon us with intent. Some go further than that and say that it's God Himself working through the person.

I think I have a gift for words. People have said they enjoy my writing, certainly. I don't know if it was a gift with intent behind it, though. I do think that God is the reason there's such a thing as creativity (not to mention language), but I'm not sure He looked down upon me as I was born and reached out his finger and flicked on the "good with words" switch.

And even if He did, this type of gift is more akin to a pet than a painting. It's something that needs to be nurtured. Loved. If God gave me this gift, directly, He also gave me the choice to decide to develop it or not. To use it or not. How to use it.

Despite that belief, I also sometimes feel that He does work through me. That sometimes, when I have an idea for a topic for this blog, it's because He's whispering to my heart, telling me what I could talk about, even helping me find the right words. Of course I'm not sure. That's the downside of faith; you can't ever be sure. But sometimes? I think it's true.

This blog is, in part, a gift both from Him and to Him. And from Him, to anyone out there who stumbles upon it and finds something here that speaks to them. My biggest hope for this blog is that someday, someone will read something here that gives them comfort, or hope, or a sense of relief that they're not alone.

Trinitarianism. Unitarianism. Ow, My Head Hurts.

One of the things non-Christians find difficult to grasp about Christianity is the fact that it considers itself a monotheistic religion, but has three figures it generally holds to be divine: Father, Son, Holy Ghost. Any attempt to explain this is frequently seen as an incomprehensible feat of philosophical and metaphysical gymnastics.

To be honest, I'm sort of with the people who don't really understand it. But bear with me while I try to muddle through it, and then I'll get to what I believe.

Most modern Christians subscribe to the trinitarian belief. The basics of it as I understand it are this: There's not three beings. The three named beings are the three ways God works among us—the Creator Himself, the incarnation of Him on the earthly plane, and the part of him that speaks to or guides humanity.

There's also a unitarian (note lower-case 'u') viewpoint, one that acknowledges the role of Christ, but does not think of him as a divine being that is meant to be worshipped, even if his teachings are the cornerstone of Christian faith. Whether or not he was somehow supernatural isn't even the point; the point is he's subordinate to God and does not have His powers. As to the Holy Spirit, well, maybe that's another of God's Heavenly servants, or maybe it's just the voice of God.

My beliefs are much closer to the latter than the former, and that's probably part of the problem I have with Christian churches. I'd probably be more at home in a unitarian church, though since I'm not really fond of church-going to begin with I'm not sure.

For what I believe... it's hard to define, precisely.

As far as God goes, well, that one's easy. God's, um, God. The Creator, the source from which everything came, the being who laid down the rules and the laws of the world as well as the rules and laws by which He wanted humans to abide. He's the object of our worship.

Jesus is not God. I form this belief primarily from one source: Jesus' words as related in the Bible. He talks of the Father as if He is a separate being, talks directly to Him in places, and explicitly denies he himself is divine. His role on earth was to teach us, and then to suffer the crucifixion, to atone for the sins of mankind. I believe his role in Heaven is to be a sort of mediator between us and God, someone else who can hear our prayers.

In fact, I believe God has many servants in the Heavenly realm, beings that are not human, but not precisely divine. We usually call them angels. Jesus may be an angel now, or he may be something else entirely, but either way, he's a servant of God, not God himself.

So what's the Holy Spirit? I'm not entirely sure, but I'm nearly certain it's who God was talking to when he was making the world. It might be an angel, or it might be some other being that was there from the beginning (God's first creation, perhaps), or it might just be the conscience of God. When I say the conscience, I mean two things, though: both God's own inner thoughts, and the part of God that connects us and Him and speaks to us in the still of the night, prompts us, and guides us.

I believe in one singular God, but I also believe that we're meant to revere and respect Jesus, and follow his teachings, and strive to be more Christlike. The Holy Spirit is more of a mystery to me, but I think it's our conduit to God, that part that speaks to our souls. A messenger, perhaps. All three are important, but only God is God.

On Homosexuality (2/2)

In my last post about homosexuality, there was one thing I didn't address: is homosexuality a sin for Christians? And if so, how should Christians approach it and address it?

I'm here to tell you that I do not know. I do not know for sure, at least, because I do not know the mind of God. But I do have my reasons to think that it's not a sin, and I'm even more sure it is something I should not condemn. That, if anything, it's against my own beliefs to do such a thing.

Sunday Thoughts

One of the better characteristics of human beings is the ability to feel sympathy for complete strangers. To shudder at a tragedy, to spare a few moments to feel sorrow for the people and their families, and to wish things like that didn't happen. I think anyone who doesn't show this sympathy—this empathy—has something wrong with them.

When I see in the wake of some tragedy people who are avid to discuss all aspects of the victim's lives, frequently in a deragatory manner, it makes me ashamed of my race. When I hear a person who calls themselves Christian daring to call a major tragedy a judgement on the human race, it makes me ashamed of my religion—you can add that to the pile of reasons why I had trouble with Christianity for so long.

Sometimes it seems like the less we know someone, the easier it is to forget that they were real people. For instance, for a real example, there's Michael Jackson. He was a real person who had a lousy childhood, obviously had some seriously psychological issues, and whose family now has to deal with both his early demise and all the people who want to loudly discuss those things. Yes, he was famous, for many reasons, but that doesn't make him a non-person, and it certainly doesn't make his family non-people. These are people deserving of sympathy and empathy for what they're going through. How would you feel if someone you loved died and the next day there were thousands of strangers talking about that time he got drunk at the office party and gave his CEO a wedgie?

I see the same problem with people who sort of shrug off the demise of thousands of people in an earthquake because, y'know, it didn't happen here. They're strangers; why should we care, right?

Maybe because each of those strangers was a human being. And if you're a decent person, there should at least be a few moments where you feel for them, and for their loved ones. You don't have to obsess over it, you don't have to rush out and do something about it (though if you can, one hopes you would), but you should, at least, feel that basic kinship with other human beings that lets you sorrow for bad things happening to other people.

And if you're a Christian, and you're one of those who likes to gossip in public about the people whom these tragedies hit, shame on you. If you're a Christian, and you're one of those who likes to feel justified by tragedies because "they had it coming to them", shame on you. That's not Christian behavior. And someone out there who could be shown an example of good Christian behavior is now wondering if all Christians are like that. Is that what you really want?

On Homosexuality (1/2)

[I have a few drafts on various topics queued up; this particular one, which has a followup I'll work on finalizing soon, seemed particular apt in light of the APA repudiating "ex-gay" therapies this week.]

Another thing that drove me away from Christianity for so long was the open and unyielding condemnation of gays by so many Christians and their churches. (I am straight. That ought to be immaterial here, but I'm sure someone will wonder.)

Sunday Musings

I call myself a heretic mainly as a joke. But sometimes I wonder: am I one?

I'm sure there's people who'd think so... some people (and, I must admit, sometimes myself included) who might think my beliefs ignore some of accepted Christian teaching to a point that makes me Not a Christian, despite the fact that I think that's what I am. I think...

Luckily, it's not up to them. It's up to God, who, being that He loves me along with all the rest of you sinners, hopefully will tolerate where I get it wrong, as long as I keep trying to get it right.

But... am I a heretic? It's hard to say. I do have some atypical beliefs, though. For one thing, I don't see any reason why Christianity has to be the One True Religion.

Now, to some extent, other Christians might agree with me. There's any number of Christians who are extremely interested in interfaith discussions, which sort of inherently carries the idea along with it that other religions might be right as well. Certainly when it comes to the other Abrahamic religions, you'd find some Christians who are pretty accepting. For all the hostility that happens between Jews and Christians and Muslims, there are still those who say "We started from the same place, and maybe God just had slightly different messages for different groups... maybe we're all right."

I extend this to other religions, though. Including pantheistic ones.

Now, as a Christian, the rules say that I only get the one God and shouldn't be worshipping other ones. But they don't say I don't get to believe that God would be willing to—happy to—appear to people in the way they're going to understand and set down rules they'll be able to follow. I mean... He's God. If He can be a burning bush in the desert to get someone's attention, I don't see any reason He can't be a multi-armed woman or a guy with the head of a jackal or speak through the familiar face of a passed loved one. Likely all at once.

And even just looking at the Bible, He obviously was willing to keep giving humans a chance to come to Him. I mean, isn't the core of Christianity pretty much all about this? "Y'all aren't able to follow the rules? Fine, I'm going to have a son, and send him down to talk some sense into you, and then let him die in a painful, horrible way to pay for all those sins you just can't seem to help but commit, just so y'all have a chance." So, if you can imagine that (and if you're a Christian I sure hope you can!), why is it so hard to imagine Him looking down on some other group of people and say, "Okay, so, you can't envision me this way... what about this way?"

So... does that make me a heretic?

Y'know... I don't think I care.