A Cheerful Sunday Thoughts

When I got up today, I did what I usually do not long after getting up: loaded up my Yahoo page with its news feeds and skimmed the headlines. Imagine my surprise when I saw this one: Evangelical church opens doors fully to gays [link, for as long as it lasts]

The story says, in part:

Tidd is an outlaw pastor of sorts. His community, less than a year old, is an evangelical Christian church guided both by the Apostle's Creed and the belief that gay people can embrace their sexual orientation as God-given and seek fulfillment in committed same-sex relationships.

Of course, if you believe homosexuality is a choice, this won't matter to you, but for those of us who believe the evidence is soundly for the idea that it's an innate quality, this is really simple logic. If people are born gay, it was as much a God-given trait as any other, and should be accepted in the same way.

Yet it's a logic that seems to elude people, judging by the number of church communities who acknowledge it's not a choice but still think that people who are gay should suppress their desires and live celibate. It's a shame that that's one of the prevailing attitudes, but I'm still encouraged by the idea that it's not the only one.

While I'm in a cranky mood

Might I point you over to slacktivist's very well-written posts on why it is the "Manhattan Declaration" is unacceptable? (If you don't know what it is, Fred'll also let you know that part.)

They can be found here, with a followup here, and lastly, here.

Go read them. Yes, now. I've got a few comments, myself, but they can wait until you're done.

Oh, get over yourselves.

I know that title is a bit snippy, but seriously, I'm so sick of it.

It's the same thing every year, and has been for my entire life. "Americans are taking Christ out of Christmas! Boycott stores, snottily correct clerks and other customer service personnel who dare to say 'Happy Holidays', and write angry letters!" About the only thing different from my childhood and now is that now people have teh intarwebz to spread their message of woe, doom, and destruction of the Christian faith by godless Commienazis.

It's been a while...

I haven't been feeling very good physically or mentally the last few weeks, so my non-existent audience (nearly so; at this time my actual audience seems to consist of my fiance and my stuffed cat that sits by the computer) has been let down a little, to say nothing of the fact that this blog was kindasorta supposed to be a substitute for things like church. Eh, He'll forgive me.

In light of the recent Thanksgiving holiday, I feel I should post some things I'm grateful for despite the long list of things I feel are wrong with my life. Perhaps concentrating on them will improve things.

I'm grateful I live in a county that, despite making me jump through hoops to do so, will give me insurance so that I can at least get some health care for my problems.

I'm grateful I have a fiance who understands my problems and puts up with them, and does the lion's share of the work because of them. I'm trying to do more, but in the meantime it's good that he's willing to do so much.

I'm grateful to have rediscovered my religious and spiritual side, and the ability to separate that from the people who practice a form of my religion I cannot recognize.

I'm grateful for my ability to create. It's something that makes me happy.

I'm grateful to have had so many extremely wonderful friends to help me through some of the roughest times (and a little sad I've lost touch with so many, but glad they're still out there).

I'm grateful for all the other people who have the gift to create, whether songs or games or writing or art, because those are some of the best parts of life.

I'm grateful for sunrises and sunsets, kittens, laughter, and all the other wonderful things that were made for the enjoyment of mankind.

I'm grateful that there are good examples of people practicing my religion out there, because seeing those helped me find my way back.

I'm grateful to Google for offering a free place to write down my thoughts.

I'm grateful that I still have a place to live, food to eat, internet access, and things I can do purely for leisure and enjoyment.

I'm grateful that there is a power out there that loves me despite all my many human flaws.

I am appalled at my own kind

Well, they're not quite my own kind. I recognize them as Christians, but we're obviously very different. It's the ones who, in the wake of the horrendous tragedy at Fort Hood, are saying, "See, Muslims are all terrorists!" Who are, in the main, the same ones who when people, oh, say, shoot an abortion doctor in the name of Christ, don't have anything to say about that, or at best say "But that's not what we believe!"... and then refuse to give the same courtesy to others.

I'm appalled that Christians give other Christians a free pass on such acts, but immediately harp on anyone of any other religion, especially Muslims. We worship the same God. Never mind my belief that ultimately we all do, I mean this one much more literally; Muslims consider Jesus one of the great prophets and believe some of the same things Christians do about him (albeit not all of them). We should get along better. It's one of the shames of religion that we can't. And one of the shames of American Christians in particular that so many of them refuse to believe anyone who says "We're not all like that."

Are there bad Muslims? Yes. But there are also bad Christians. And a lot of them are right here in this country. Condemning the entire religion based on the whack-jobs is really... unChristian. Brotherhood, remember?

(Belated x2) Sunday Thoughts

"Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation."—Mark 16:15

A fairly sizable portion of Christians seem to believe that the primary goal of all Christians should be to preach to others, and I believe this is one of the verses that makes them think so.

Sunday Thoughts

So... normally I write more about what things mean to me on this day, and maybe that's where this'll end up... but my topic today is not a verse or idea from the Bible, but rather, the actual whole Bible. To be specific, it's about the project to rewrite the Bible that some of my non-existent readers may've heard about lately, spearheaded by Conservapedia. I say "rewrite" rather than the word they use, "retranslate", because, frankly, they're planning on putting some stuff in I don't remember from any version of the Bible I've ever read, including the KJV.

Is Proselytizing a Sin? (Part 3/Final)

So, let's wrap this up, and go back to my basic question: Is proselytizing a sin?

I think I've shown how it can be, whether one defines sin as "harm against other people" or "offenses against God". Anything that drives people away from God (and, if you think Christianity is the One True Way, Christ) pretty much would have to be a sin, and generally speaking, things that harm people are sinful.

But is it always a sin?

Sunday Thoughts

We don't all agree on the nature of God or what He wants from us. Some people don't believe He even exists; others simply differ in the details. But that doesn't matter. It doesn't have to.

We, as people, probably all want something similar: peace, prosperity, health, happiness. We can work together for those things.

For those of us who believe, it may be because we're doing what we believe God (or whoever) wants us to do. For those who don't, it may be because they believe this is the only chance we have to experience those things.

It doesn't matter why we act, as long as we do act.

If people focus on what people do and what they're working for, then it doesn't matter if you're working with someone who does not share your faith. And I find it heartening that there are others out there who agree, who put aside the differences to focus on the similarities. I do wish there were more, but as long as there are some, we can continue to try to make the world a better place.

Faith does not stand alone

Last year, a Wisconsin couple was charged with reckless homicide in the death of their daughter. The girl, who was 11, died from complications from untreated diabetes. The parents had not sought medical care, instead relying on prayer to heal their daughter.

Today they were sentenced to 10 years probation and 30 days a year in jail for the next six years. They plan to appeal. They don't think they did anything wrong.

Belated Thoughts and Other Things

I didn't do a "Sunday Thoughts" yesterday because my sleep schedule was rather inverted due to illness followed by a bout of insomnia... eh, it doesn't matter why. I didn't do it.

I've wanted to keep doing at least that one post a week in lieu of church-going, but I'm not sure I have quite that much to talk about without repeating myself. I might open up the focus of this blog a bit to encompass current events and various religious responses to them and what I think of those things. I don't want to debate these things, but seeing things through the filter of my religious and moral beliefs is both inevitable and important, and I might as well talk about them here.

You may, if you've read the last few posts, have noticed that I did two Sunday posts in a row talking at least in part about charity. If I do more current events posts, there will be some more of that, and I'm afraid it might get repetitive, but... it's very important to me, and very mind-boggling to me how a country with a large Christian majority doesn't seem to act charitable very often. Still, I'll try to keep it at least vaguely interesting.

The last few posts have been more about the negative side of religion, so I want to say something positive... unfortunately I can't seem to think of anything tonight. I'll try to come up with something positive this week.

Is Prosyletizing a Sin? (Part 2)

In my last post on this topic, I related a sad story about a kid I used to babysit thinking he was going to Hell because he didn't listen to me, his babysitter, and I said this: emotionally and psychologically harming someone is a sin.

Before I go further on that, I should define the other word I'm using here the way I understand it. Proselytizing, to me, is when someone tries to convince someone else to convert to their beliefs. It differs from evangelism^[1] in that evangelism is more about simply spreading information about one's religion.^[2]

Sunday Thoughts

There's something about this country I don't understand.

See, Christians are a majority here. Maybe not everyone who classifies themselves as Christian is particularly active in their faith, but they were raised with Christian beliefs and still consider themselves such.

So why are so many Americans against programs to help the poor? Whether it's direct as welfare or a national health insurance of some sort, or as indirect as better education, people seem unwilling to pay for government programs, or volunteer time or money or goods to private programs. And some people are pretty heated about their opposition to the former.

I don't understand how anyone can reconcile that unwillingness with what Jesus taught. I don't think I need to pull out Bible verses for this; anyone with even a cursory knowledge of the Gospels should know that Jesus was pretty explicit that helping the sick and the poor was the right thing to do, and that giving up one's own wealth for that purpose was the best thing to do.

I find it difficult to understand why anyone who calls themselves a Christian would have any trouble giving to a cause that helps the poor. Churches which run food pantries or other helpful programs are struggling to meet demand, so it's not even happening there. And when it comes to government programs and any hint of suggestions of tax raises, it's met with anger and refusal. Is that really the Christian response?

Sunday Thoughts

We just got back from an early-morning drive through the city and I was thinking of writing something about that, about beautiful sunrises and birds singing at dawn, but I don't know if I have the right words to explain why that and the otherwise silent city means so much to me. I've said in the past to people that sunsets and kittens are two good reasons to believe in a loving God and love creation, and you can put sunrises and joyful bird wakings on that list, too, but it's more a personal thing than something I expect anyone to really share. Still, I can say there's something beautiful and even awe-inspiring in getting to see those things in the middle of a large city before most people have stirred from their homes. A moment where you can glimpse a peaceful creation is something wonderful.

And that might be enough for today, but I thought I'd grab a random Bible verse to see if it inspired me to write something more anyhow.

The Bible verse I got led me to Chapter 12 of Romans, and it does touch upon something I've been thinking about, so I think it's probably a good idea for me to try to explore what it means for me.

Is Proselytizing a Sin? (Part 1)

I imagine now there's someone out there thinking: how can something that preaches about God be a sin?

Well... "Sin", to me, includes anything that harms other people, a word that can be used both within religious discussion and apart from it.

Now in the context of religion, it's generally defined as an offense against God. Well, while Jesus was more to the point about harming people being Bad, God himself had a few words to say on the matter, too. Most of the Ten Commandments are about one's treatment of other people, after all. So while "sin" may encompass things other than "harming other people", it definitely includes it even in that context.

With me so far? Good. Let me tell you a story about my past, then. This is gonna get a little long, so I hope you like reading.

Sunday Thoughts

I've written before on my difficulties with reconciling the idea of a loving God with a God that would condemn people to eternal punishment for not saying the right words, and why it is I came to believe that the latter is wrong. It's an important topic for me, though, so I have some other thoughts on it.

It's not about a deterrent

More than once, I've seen someone basically ask this: "If there's no Hell, why would you bother? What would make you want to follow God's rules?"

Of course, the easy answer is: I still believe in Heaven. I believe the choices are between Heaven and nothingness, and I find Heaven more comforting than nothingness. That's a good reason right there, but it's the easy answer, and it's not, really, the important bit.

I imagine everyone reading this has someone they love—more than one someone, one presumes, since I don't mean just romantic love here. Someone who you care about a great deal, whose opinion is important to you.

I imagine that everyone reading this has, at some point, wondered how one of those people could possibly love you back. You may've gotten to that point from a different place and for different reasons than I have, but I'm sure it's fairly universal to wonder "Why does this person love me? How can they keep loving me the way I am? What if they stop loving me?"

I also would bet you've at least thought about being willing to change something about yourself to ensure that person keeps loving you. Maybe you didn't do it, but you probably find the idea familiar.

There's also a pretty good chance that at least once in your life, you've decided to to choose to not do something because it would hurt someone you love and who you know loves you.

And why? Not because that person threatened to do something bad to you. Not because you feared they would. (That's probably happened, too, but it's not the point of this wondering.) Because the idea of losing their regard, their love, and their presence in your life was sufficiently worrisome to you that you were willing to at least consider changing something, whether small or large, to ensure that didn't happen.

Now if you believe, as I do, that God loves you, wouldn't you think it would make sense to apply that to Him?

Sunday Thoughts

Random Bible verse thoughts again this time. This coming week I'll try to get some non-Sunday posts up, too, but in the meantime:

I form the light and create darkness, I bring prosperity and create disaster; I, the LORD, do all these things.—Isiah 45:7

It is quite possible that the most-asked question by people about the Christian God is this: How could a loving God allow bad things to happen to His creation? I've certainly asked it myself, and a lack of answer certainly figured into my falling away from Christianity. But these days, I think I understand a little better.

There's two ways to look at it, really. The first is: the only way to know if an experience is good or bad is to compare it to other things. You can't know what darkness is if you only experience light. Loneliness only feels lonely because we know what it's like to have someone's company. Comparing and contrasting is just how humans tend to think. Naturally, if that's how we think, it makes sense that all of those things have to be in Creation. It allows us to appreciate the good times when we understand there are also bad ones.

There's also the fact that we have free will. Free will is meaningless if there are no choices, and choices aren't choices if there aren't different outcomes. Sure, God could make it so that those choices always led to the best outcomes for everyone, but would that really be free will anymore?

Free will may not always be a blessing, particularly when it's exercised by people who aren't inclined to regard their fellow humans with charity or love, or by those who have been hurt and therefore choose to be selfish. That sort of human suffering is the part of it we question. Why should some poor toddler lose their life because someone else felt a need to avenge some perceived wrong her family did to him? (To name a not-so-random example from the news recently.) It seems unfair. Capricious. Why would a loving God allow that?

But would the lack of free will really be a blessing? If we didn't know what it was like to suffer loss or hardship, how could we ever appreciate our needs or desires being met? Life would be simple and pleasant, but would we even realize that?

I admit life with no pain and no conflict sounds wonderful, but only because I know what pain and conflict are like. If I did not, it would have no meaning.

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.

Science and Faith

For a lot of people, their doubts about the existence of God (or their sureness there is no such thing) have to do with science. By contrast, a lot of people believe science is flawed, because it contradicts what they think they know about God.

I've thought about this a lot, but over time I came to believe that believing in science and reason does not at all impact my ability to have faith, including Christian faith. I don't feel they necessarily are in opposition at all.

"But wait!" you might say. "What about evolution?"

Well, yeah, there's always that question. But even that doesn't seem insurmountable to me.

Let's start with the simple one, which is the concept in general. The idea that species do change and adapt over time, leading to speciation, is not at all incompatible with the idea that there was a guiding intelligence that kicked the process off by creating the original creatures.

But what about the theory that all life started as single-celled organisms?

Well, until and unless someone manages to replicate that, starting with a few chemicals and moving on to walking, talking people, I feel reasonably assured that it's possible scientists could be mistaken. It's not like that's never happened before. And a good scientist, at least in my books, is always open to the possibility that new facts will turn out to make it necessary to discard or revise a theory, after all. Even though that's the commonly accepted theory, it may be that someday we learn differently, or find it's not entirely possible and need to account for why. And maybe 'why' could include God, after all, however unlikely some people might find that now.

Okay, what about the theory that man evolved directly from apes?

The simple answer, of course, is that like the above theory, this one could be wrong. But most people of a scientific bent aren't going to be satisfied with that. The bulk of evidence, they will say, is there.

And maybe that's true. But I still can think of one way that accounts both for ape-to-man evolution and the story of Adam and Eve, and that's this:

Adam and Eve were, not to put too fine a point on it, apes, and the story of the Tree is allegorical for the evolution to the point of distinction between 'ape' and 'man'.

Some people, on both sides of the issue, will find this unsatisfying or a cop-out. I, on the other hand, think it's reasonable, albeit not necessarily the explanation. You, of course, may disagree. I'm not expecting anyone else to use my reasoning here, but it works for me.

See, the thing is, if one believes in a creating force, called God by most, having created every aspect of the universe, that would include the laws of science. It naturally follows from that that science and religion cannot be in opposition, but rather, are by definition in harmony. In cases where they seem to contradict themselves, it merely reflects our imperfect understanding of the world—the same world that even a scientist who is a staunch atheist would presumably be willing to concede we don't fully understand.

I always say that I think language is one of the reasons to believe in God, for instance. I realize there's a great deal of theory regarding the development of language, much of which is devoted to explaining why humans have a complex language but even our nearest relatives do not. But I don't think anyone has yet come up with a theory that has solid evidence behind it, however compelling their ideas may be; the theories I'm aware of always seem to boil down to "Since we have these different characteristics, it must be that language arises from these characteristics", which always struck me as rather circular.

I'm comfortable with believing in both science and religion. I just wish that were true for more people.

Sunday's Prayer

"Oh God, if there is a God, save my soul, if I have a soul." —The Agnostic's Prayer

On the face of it, that's a joke. I see the humor in it, certainly. But I think that for a lot of people with faith, or who wish they had some sort of faith, it's also quite serious.

If you don't believe there's a God of any sort, it won't speak to you, I'm sure. And your faith may not involve a soul that needs saving, in which case it's probably not terribly apt, either. But if your faith does include speculation about the ultimate destination of your soul or self, you might see what I do in it.

Because sometimes for me it feels like what I'm really saying.

See, while I do have faith, and I do have a lot of hope regarding that faith, I also have reason. Despite how some particularly vocal Christians may act, not all of us have disputes with science or logic, both things that sometimes seem to stand in opposition to faith. I can't prove there's a God, or a soul, or an afterlife, or that He had any hand in evolution or writing the laws of the universe, both things I know exist. That can make it hard sometimes. I have my moments of skepticism about my own beliefs. I have my doubts.

But that prayer isn't just about doubt. It's also about hope, something which I more and more find goes hand in hand with doubt. It could be I'm wrong. It could be that God really doesn't exist, that what I call the soul is really just the mind, that death is a simple ending and there's absolutely nothing beyond that. Yet the doubts don't change the fact that I have faith. It's not just crying out "I want proof!"; it's acknowledging that there is no proof but that you still, somehow, believe.

So I join in with the author of that prayer, with both my doubts and fears in alignment:

God, if you exist, save my soul, if it exists and needs to be saved. Thanks, if you need thanks. Love (if you need love) -- Me

On the Edge of the Pit

So, that disposed of, I went merrily into life, never fearing again that I would someday find myself being punished...

Yeah, no. Not so much.

I still have doubts. I think most people do, regardless of their beliefs. However infrequently it may be, I think even the most fervent and devoted believers of any religion sometimes, late at night, think "Am I just screwing it all up?"

My doubts on this topic tend to be fairly specific. "Do I really believe? Or do I just want to say I do so I avoid punishment?" and "Am I wrong? I'm afraid I'm going to end up in That Place I swear I don't believe in..."

So let me tell you about a friend of mine who died a couple years ago, who is simultaneously a factor in those worries and a factor in my hopes.

Now, my friend was not a Christian. He was, if anything, a pagan. Spiritual, but not necessarily religious. And even if he'd been of a more traditional religion, it wouldn't have been Christianity, what with his parents being Jewish and all.

What he was was a good person.

Okay, he was capable of being extremely self-centered, snarky, sarcastic, a heck of a downer when he was in a mood... but he was also extremely generous. He said he didn't like people, but y'know, he acted like he did... and when it came to his friends, the people he loved, he would do just about anything for them that he could.

He didn't have a great life. In the overall scheme of things it was a lot better than a lot of the world's population has to deal with -- he had shelter, food, modern comforts, leisure time. He was also disabled, unhealthy in general, and extremely unhappy with the direction his life took. So when his health problems caught up to him, I guess he didn't try very hard to fight. He died in his sleep, after being sick enough that he should've seen a doctor (but too stubborn to do so).

Some people would say he's in Hell. After all, he wasn't a Christian. He never was.

Not long after I heard he died I had a dream. In my dream, he was healthy and happy. He was in a good place, reunited with the dog he'd recently lost, in a body that worked right, and smiling. And I woke up being sure that was how things were for him now. I felt—for the first time since I'd heard he died—a moment of joy.

See, while my doubts to tend towards "What if I go to Hell?", they're not always about me. Sometimes, it's more like this: "What if right now, even as we speak, my pagan friend whose life was totally crappy now has to deal with even worse just because he didn't ever become a Christian, even though he was, really, a wonderful guy?"

But sometimes, that dream and that joy is what makes me sure that he's not suffering. That God loved him as much as he loves the rest of us and that the dream is a message to me that my friend is past all the pain and now gets to have comfort. And that someday I'll get to see that myself, when my time comes (not too soon please).

It doesn't take the doubts away. I wish it did, but I admit it doesn't. But it does give me a focus for my hope.

The Pit of Doubt

There's a lot of reasons I had such a hard time for so long accepting what I wanted to believe about God and reconciling it with Christian beliefs (not just "stuff in the Bible", but "what Christians said it meant"). I think it's important to share how I did this, partly for myself, and partly because if there's someone else out there whose doubts are similar to mine, maybe it'll help them work through theirs.

So I'm going to start with the really really big one. I'm gonna start with Hell.

Struggling with Faith

(Appropriately enough, my inaugural post is on a Sunday morning.)

Like many Americans, when I was a kid, I went to church. Or, well, my mother took me to church. Sometimes she dragged my father along as well (until they got divorced, at least^[1]).

Until one Sunday, when I was maybe six, that I refused to go with her. Like, tantrum-yelling-screaming refused. I don't really remember exactly why^[2], don't know what my 6-year-old self was thinking, but I do remember that I was pretty emphatic about it.

Well, my mother gave in, probably because it was easier for her to go alone than be to be saddled with a small kid who didn't want to be there. At least for a while, though I know I started going with her again later.

I don't know if that was an early sign of things to come or not, but it was the point that my relationship with religion became a little less usual.

A few years later, I had the usual bout of kids' questions about religion, but between erratic church attendance, a poor relationship with my mom, an agnostic father, and my one set of living grandparents not really being the church-going type, I mostly had to figure them out on my own. I read a few books (I was always a reader), went to my friends' churches, picked up both the kids' stuff and the adult stuff from the Kingdom Hall when I went (my Mom was a Jehovah's Witness). Most of what I learned about was various forms of Christianity, but I did learn about Judaism, and I understood there were other religions, too, though at that point I didn't know much about them.

My relationship with God, in short, has always been based on belief I developed from a lot of different sources.

By the time I was a teen I'd more or less settled into a sort of non-demoninational Christianity. I'd attended AWANAs, and joined a high school youth group, but didn't regularly attend church on Sundays... my mother was still a JW and I'd more or less rejected them (in part because I was going through more or less rejecting her) and my father was still not religious, so there wasn't a family-going-to-church thing going on in my life, and I felt the youth group events were a better idea anyhow... I had a preference for discussion over sermons, I suppose.

And then I started having problems with depression. Serious ones. Really, really serious ones. And I started having doubts.

It took a while before the doubts really turned into a change in faith. Christianity was still a comfort to me, and I even got to a point where I tried to help a couple friends understand what I believed and why and urged them to consider becoming Christians. I mean, I was not seriously out there prosyletizing, but when it came to my friends, I wanted them to have the same beliefs and comfort that Christianity offered me.

And not long after one of them told me he was becoming a Christian... I stopped. All those things I'd told them became empty to me.

Oh, not all at once. But at some point I just gave up believing that the Christian God could possibly be in my life because my life was really pretty messed up. I had some back and forth on it... part of me still believed, but most of me was looking for something to fill the void I had, the one where my doubts were making a hole in me.

Years pass. I eventually found other things to believe in, and for a while they made me happy to believe, but because there were still a lot of problems with my life, I had a hard time finding any real joy in any religion of any sort. And then there was my problem with... well, let's say co-religionists. You see, over time, I started to feel that any organized religion, no matter how loose, was the real problem. I could continue to believe there was a God (of some sort), I could have faith (of a sort), I could feel I was basically a spiritual person (most of the time), but I could not bring myself to accept, y'know, religion.

For a while that was okay. My actual level of belief waxed and waned, but I avoided participating in religion... which is odd, because I found discussing it, as a concept, pretty interesting. Figuring out why people believe as well as what they believe. Finding ways religions were similar because I thought it was interesting how many of the same concepts appear in so many disaparate religions.

At times I would wonder... if I can believe so strongly there is Someone (no matter what one calls that Someone) and that there is a Purpose (no matter what that Purpose is), why can't I believe in a specific religion?

And it always came back to two things: The way people of the religion acted, and the fact that the one religion I'd ever truly strongly adhered to was presented in ways I just couldn't agree with.

A few years ago, I started realizing again that... for the most part, the things I believe still fit into Christianity. Not any specific brand of it necessarily, but a basic core belief that: a) there's a God, b) God is (or at least should be) about love, c) Christ's teachings about how to treat one's fellow humans were right, and even d) no one who didn't try to act in the way Christ taught could possibly be going to Heaven. Maybe I didn't precisely believe in the things that would make me a Christian in many people's eyes, but I think that an open-minded Christian at least would have seen his beliefs echoed in mine.

There were, however, things I still couldn't get over... things that had been, when it comes down to it, the core of my waxing of faith to begin with. The same doubts that I believe a lot of people have.

Wondering why, if God is love, why so many people hate in His name. Wondering why, if God is love, he allows there to be so much pain. Wondering why, if God is love, why he wouldn't allow people who didn't say the magic words to get into Heaven... that, to the contrary, he'd put them into eternal pain. I couldn't reconcile my internal vision of God with someone who did these things.

Recently, I had an epiphany... well, no, not exactly. It was something I knew already, so maybe I mean I finally internalized this: Even God's most ardent followers, people you can look at the writings of or listen to the words of and just be absolutely sure they truly believe, can't agree on these things. From the same Bible and the same reading of the same laws, Christians come up with entirely different answers to the same questions.

It's strange it took me so long to realize that meant that my understanding was as valid as anyone else's. That I could reconcile some of those questions without in any way saying "I'm going to follow only these parts of the Bible". That the Bible is clearly open to interpretation... because there people are, interpreting it differently.

And lately I've come to consider myself a Christian again, even if I don't necessarily believe in the same precise manner some people do.

See... I don't think I need to believe that there's a magic set of words I need to say to be a follower of Christ. I do believe that people who don't say those words (or express the thought, even) can go to Heaven as long as they follow the same ideals. I think the message is more important than the mechanics... does it really matter most, when you get down to it, if Christ literally only came to Earth so he could be punished in our place? Or does it matter more what he tried to teach us? Because I think it's the latter, to be honest. I'm perfectly willing to believe—do believe—that that was the deal: he was sent to teach us and try to reach us and then he had to also stand in for us so God could cleanse away the sins we had done... we still do. And that should be honored... but not at the expense of forgetting that every word he said was important, that the ideas he tried to get through to us are really the way to Heaven.

You could consider me a heretic^[3], or... well, whatever you want. But only God gets to decide if I'm wrong or right, and I think, looking at the message he sent Christ to come tell us, that he'd say I was right... or as close as a flawed human, a human who is prone to all sorts of mistakes, is likely to get without additional divine intervention. I'm not going to say I don't still worry I'm wrong, but when I start to worry, I think: the God I choose to believe in, that I believe made sunsets and kittens and rivers and trees and art and language and most of all love... he wouldn't be such a stickler. He knows we're flawed; that was part of the message. He knows we won't get it all right. He just wants us to try, and to admit when we fail, and to be sorry we did... and then to keep trying.

And most of the time, lately, that's starting to be a comfort again. Because lately, I'm starting to think I can hear Him again, and that's the best part of it. That when I talk, He listens, and when He listens, He understands. And that He is willing to forgive anything I get wrong.

And I still have doubts, but that's human, too. But I also have hope. And that's God.

[1] Actually I have these vague memories of my Dad showing up on the weekends and going with her even after the divorce, but it may've been because those were weekends I was supposed to be spending with him.
[2] I'm pretty sure it had more to do with disliking my mother and the aftermath of my parents' divorce than anything about me understanding church or religion.
[3] I'm comfortable with that label. After all, some of the same Christian sects that are considered mainstream began with someone considered a heretic.