I am broken like an arrow/ Forgive me, forgive your wayward son
A huge thank you to my very dear friend Melbs for another fascinating post. I was going to leave a relatively lengthy comment but it got far too long, so here it is as a post instead.
I will, resist, with some difficulty, the temptation to launch in on another round of ranting about Richard Dawkins, who is, at the end of the day, a very intelligent guy who will now doubt achieve great things if he ever gets over his debilitating obsession with teapots.
For those who miss those ranty good times, you can relive them here.
The thing is that, despite MG's very tempting invitation to pull out my best Pat Benetar impression, whilst I'm happy to take a 'best shot' approach to politics, social justice, sport and film reviewing, I just don't think it works for matters of faith.
Why? Because it's really hard to find anyone who will tell you that they embraced any particular faith solely on the basis that someone sat them down and talked them into it through a blindingly compelling intellectual argument.
Before diving too far into this, I want to make it clear that I am all for trying to get intelligence and faith to work as a team. I have been bugging my fellow Christians about this for years. When it comes to working out what one's faith means and how it works in the real world, we each owe it to ourselves, and to the people we cross paths with in our lives, to apply to highest level of intellectual rigour and brutally honest self reflection as we try to figure it out. Having said that, it doesn't follow that that is how we got there in the first place.
I can probably express that a little more clearly by analogy. When it comes to being a good parent, I need to be as smart as possible, and as deliberate as possible, in how I go about it, so I can provide the sort of loving, supportive, structured environment that my children need. To do anything other than to work as hard as I possibly can, and to be as smart as I possibly can, is to give my kids less than they deserve from their father.
However, this does not mean that I needed someone to sit me down and explain to me why I should love them to distraction.
I don't love my boys because someone talked me into it, I love them because I took one look at them and it was impossible not to.
So, should I try and convince you all that God exists and heaven is there? Whilst I am about it, I may as well try to explain why the four right chords can make me cry. Or why the view from the battlements of Carlisle castle once caused me to break into spontaneous applause. Or why it is that we fall in love. I have little interest in trying to reduce the mysteries of the universe to a series of logical propositions, each more fiendishly clever than the last, and I'm not going to try.
Instead, let me share a little bit of my own journey, and perhaps a little of what I love about this Christian faith that I embrace, and which I try to put into action in my own life.
Quite simply, it's when I am connected to the beliefs I cherish and the spirituality that I pursue that life seems to make the most sense. The colours are brighter, the edges are clearer, and the path ahead looks well lit and inviting.
Then there are those other times which, quite frankly, include almost all of this freakishly bad year called 2008, when I get too tired, stressed and pissed off to focus on those things that matter most to me. Whilst the good things in life are still there, and I still feel endlessly thankful to be sharing the journey with those nearest and dearest to me, living day to day starts to feel like a slow, exhausting slog, through what can best be described as the Swamp of Stupidness.
So, however disconnected and flat out lousy I may feel right now, I go on believing, because I remember those times when it works, and because one of the few things I have learned in my 35 years on this planet is that the bleak times never feel like they will end, but they always do. Yes, that requires some faith, but not a faith that is blind. It's a faith built on a solid foundation, not of someone else's beliefs, but on my own experiences.
So if that's a small insight into why I believe in something, why is it that Christianity is the something that I choose to believe in? Here's a few of the reasons.
I love that God is portrayed as the father whose son demands half his inheritance then leaves town, blows the lot on wine and hookers, and comes skulking back penniless and humiliated, bringing endless disgrace to the family. When the father sees the son coming, he abandons all dignity and runs down the road to meet him, throws his arms around him and celebrates his return with a huge party.
I love the idea that there will come a time when people will stop wanting to kill each other and there actually will be peace on earth.
I love any faith where the rules can be reduced down to the simply propositon that if we all love each other enough, it will work just fine.
I love that one of the biggest criticisms levelled at Jesus was that he ate too much, drank too much, and spent too much time with the most marginalised people in his society.
Most of all, and since it's nearly Christmas, I love the idea of a God who cares so much for his children that he would choose to become one of them, and to share the experience of living on this earth.
In doing so, in being the only person in history to be able to plan every detail of his life in advance, did not opt for a life of luxury, but chose to be born in a dirty stable to a mother who was pregnant before she got married. By the age of two he was a refugee in Egypt. He grew up in a town that can best be described as the first century equivalent of Moe. When he reached the age of 30, he took to travelling around, permanently broke, and bringing a message that caused his family to suggest he was mentally ill, the residents of his home town to try to thrown him off a cliff the first time he taught in their synagogue, and the religious leaders of his community to accuse him of being possessed by demons. Eventually, people who had celebrated his arrival in Jerusalem only a week earlier called for him to be killed and the authorities put him to death in the most painful way they could devise.
Quite simply, if the universe is to have a creator, if it is to be here for a reason and to make some sort of sense, I know that, even if I will never be smart enough to understand it, there is great comfort in knowing that that creator understands the pain and joy of being human. Some would say it's arrogant to imagine that a higher being would care about our day to day existence. I don't think so. I think it's almost inconceivable, but it's simply marvellous.
Just in case I forget to say it later, a very merry Christmas to you all.
I will, resist, with some difficulty, the temptation to launch in on another round of ranting about Richard Dawkins, who is, at the end of the day, a very intelligent guy who will now doubt achieve great things if he ever gets over his debilitating obsession with teapots.
For those who miss those ranty good times, you can relive them here.
The thing is that, despite MG's very tempting invitation to pull out my best Pat Benetar impression, whilst I'm happy to take a 'best shot' approach to politics, social justice, sport and film reviewing, I just don't think it works for matters of faith.
Why? Because it's really hard to find anyone who will tell you that they embraced any particular faith solely on the basis that someone sat them down and talked them into it through a blindingly compelling intellectual argument.
Before diving too far into this, I want to make it clear that I am all for trying to get intelligence and faith to work as a team. I have been bugging my fellow Christians about this for years. When it comes to working out what one's faith means and how it works in the real world, we each owe it to ourselves, and to the people we cross paths with in our lives, to apply to highest level of intellectual rigour and brutally honest self reflection as we try to figure it out. Having said that, it doesn't follow that that is how we got there in the first place.
I can probably express that a little more clearly by analogy. When it comes to being a good parent, I need to be as smart as possible, and as deliberate as possible, in how I go about it, so I can provide the sort of loving, supportive, structured environment that my children need. To do anything other than to work as hard as I possibly can, and to be as smart as I possibly can, is to give my kids less than they deserve from their father.
However, this does not mean that I needed someone to sit me down and explain to me why I should love them to distraction.
I don't love my boys because someone talked me into it, I love them because I took one look at them and it was impossible not to.
So, should I try and convince you all that God exists and heaven is there? Whilst I am about it, I may as well try to explain why the four right chords can make me cry. Or why the view from the battlements of Carlisle castle once caused me to break into spontaneous applause. Or why it is that we fall in love. I have little interest in trying to reduce the mysteries of the universe to a series of logical propositions, each more fiendishly clever than the last, and I'm not going to try.
Instead, let me share a little bit of my own journey, and perhaps a little of what I love about this Christian faith that I embrace, and which I try to put into action in my own life.
Quite simply, it's when I am connected to the beliefs I cherish and the spirituality that I pursue that life seems to make the most sense. The colours are brighter, the edges are clearer, and the path ahead looks well lit and inviting.
Then there are those other times which, quite frankly, include almost all of this freakishly bad year called 2008, when I get too tired, stressed and pissed off to focus on those things that matter most to me. Whilst the good things in life are still there, and I still feel endlessly thankful to be sharing the journey with those nearest and dearest to me, living day to day starts to feel like a slow, exhausting slog, through what can best be described as the Swamp of Stupidness.
So, however disconnected and flat out lousy I may feel right now, I go on believing, because I remember those times when it works, and because one of the few things I have learned in my 35 years on this planet is that the bleak times never feel like they will end, but they always do. Yes, that requires some faith, but not a faith that is blind. It's a faith built on a solid foundation, not of someone else's beliefs, but on my own experiences.
So if that's a small insight into why I believe in something, why is it that Christianity is the something that I choose to believe in? Here's a few of the reasons.
I love that God is portrayed as the father whose son demands half his inheritance then leaves town, blows the lot on wine and hookers, and comes skulking back penniless and humiliated, bringing endless disgrace to the family. When the father sees the son coming, he abandons all dignity and runs down the road to meet him, throws his arms around him and celebrates his return with a huge party.
I love the idea that there will come a time when people will stop wanting to kill each other and there actually will be peace on earth.
I love any faith where the rules can be reduced down to the simply propositon that if we all love each other enough, it will work just fine.
I love that one of the biggest criticisms levelled at Jesus was that he ate too much, drank too much, and spent too much time with the most marginalised people in his society.
Most of all, and since it's nearly Christmas, I love the idea of a God who cares so much for his children that he would choose to become one of them, and to share the experience of living on this earth.
In doing so, in being the only person in history to be able to plan every detail of his life in advance, did not opt for a life of luxury, but chose to be born in a dirty stable to a mother who was pregnant before she got married. By the age of two he was a refugee in Egypt. He grew up in a town that can best be described as the first century equivalent of Moe. When he reached the age of 30, he took to travelling around, permanently broke, and bringing a message that caused his family to suggest he was mentally ill, the residents of his home town to try to thrown him off a cliff the first time he taught in their synagogue, and the religious leaders of his community to accuse him of being possessed by demons. Eventually, people who had celebrated his arrival in Jerusalem only a week earlier called for him to be killed and the authorities put him to death in the most painful way they could devise.
Quite simply, if the universe is to have a creator, if it is to be here for a reason and to make some sort of sense, I know that, even if I will never be smart enough to understand it, there is great comfort in knowing that that creator understands the pain and joy of being human. Some would say it's arrogant to imagine that a higher being would care about our day to day existence. I don't think so. I think it's almost inconceivable, but it's simply marvellous.
Just in case I forget to say it later, a very merry Christmas to you all.
posted by I'm not Craig at 9:26 PM
10 Comments:
Mr INC, this is simply a great post.
Merry Christmas to you, INC. That was an awesome post, and I admire and respect you for writing it. Thanks.
We could go back and forth over this forever, which I don't want to do. I could go through your post and pick out the bits I want to have a go at. But I won't.
But without sounding punchy, and I SWEAR I'm not trying to be, can I ask you: When someone dies, how do you talk about it? Do you use all the euphemisms like "passed over" "is in heaven now" etc?
That was the original thing I was ranting about in my post, how that really bugs me. I can understand how it's a smoothing over for people, of something that can't be smoothed. But if we talk about death in those ways, then we are still managing to avoid the confrontation of death, or delay it. That it's final. People have passed on *somewhere else*. They aren't here, they must be *somewhere*.
The way you describe your Christianity, it's a beautiful thing. I can't accept it, and I will never believe in it the way you describe it, but I can admire it in you. It comforts you, and is a structure for you to live your life.
Your words were a joy to read this beautiful, sunny morning.
X
Adam
Thanks, old mate. This just goes to prove my theory that you are super lovely.
Melbs
Thanks for your very kind words too, and for writing a post that prompted me to write this one.
To your question, the issue of life after death is one that I should tackle at length in some future post. I have thought about this before but then I forgot to write it.
For now, let me just say that believing in God necessarily involves believing in heaven, so to me it's not a euphemism.
Christianity does not teach that everyone must go to heaven. If someone dies who firmly believes that there is no such place, I think it would be disrespectful to say they have gone to heaven. I don't want to insult anyone's beliefs after they have gone, or cheapen the grief of those left behind with empty words of comfort that are murmured as some sort of platitude.
This is a particularly hard issue for me, as this list of people I know who have died without having any belief in God or heaven includes, as far as I know, my grandfather. I don't know where he is now and there is little comfort I can offer to mysef or anyone else on that point.
On the other hand, there are some people whom I do firmly believe are in heaven today. This would include a mate of mine who was killed in a motorcycle accident about three years ago.
It was awful to lose him and I still grieve for him. I dont think that belief in heaven involves avoiding the confrontation of death. But there is comfort for me in believing that I will see him again, and that until then, he is safe, and at peace, and home.
Thanks again for your lovely words, and for your questions, and for your honesty. Most of all, thank you for being a friend with whom I can disagree without a trace of concern that our friendship will change in any way. You're awesome.
INC, you said in the space of 3 paragraphs that while you don't think you use the idea of heaven to comfort yourself, you are unsettled by the thought of not knowing where you grandfather is.
Don't you think that's the saddest thing? That your mate is in heaven, but your grandfather isn't? Because he didn't believe?
I suppose that what's Christians think, and other religions, that believers go to heaven or paradise, and non-believers go somewhere else, I don't want to say it here, out of respect to your feelings about your grand-dad.
It's hard, a hard thing for you. But I don't have any thoughts whatsoever about my grandparents, all who are dead, about where they are. I just don't think about it. I miss them, sometimes I joke with myself that they are "looking down on me" or can see what I'm doing and would be proud (it's always those moments, never the shameful ones you think they can see.) But that's more a feeling that I'm carrying them with me, rather than (I think) a belief that they are somehow continuing to exist. It's more the projected idea of "what would they think or say?"
Dude, I hope you are having a good weekend. Thank you too for your lovely sentiments. Our friendship would never falter over something like this. It is indeed grand to be able to discuss this with other intellectualists.
x
Oh, INC, you are the loveliest blogger in the universe.
What you describe as your christian beliefs, though, is what I would describe as human values. All of the major religions, not just Chistianity, encourage an appreciation of our fellows. Atheists, too, hold those values.
My mother was a Christian for most of her life. In the weeks before she died, though, she changed her views and she told me that she believed that death meant nothingness, that death is no more than the absence of life. She was happy with that. She was happy to return to the earth and enrich the dust that we walk on every day.
I think you know how much I love her, and how much I miss her with every day I continue to live. I don't need to believe in an afterlife that nurtures her, because my family nurtures her every day we live in the world that she once graced, and thereby graces still.
Merry Christmas to you too.
Dude, have you read The Old Testament? 'Love one another' it ain't.
"For now, let me just say that believing in God necessarily involves believing in heaven, so to me it's not a euphemism."
See now that makes more sense to me. I wish you said that in the first place. Rather than us just arguing over Heaven, it should have gone back to the root of your heaven belief which is belief in God.
You believe in God, therefore, you believe in heaven.
I maintain that there is no God, ergo, no heaven.
And that argument won't go anywhere either, so all I want to say is merry christmas, and sorry if I was arrogant. I just like religious debate is all.
Melbs
I didn say I don't take comfort from the idea of heaven, I said I don't want to use the idea to offer false comfort.
Some Christians, in fact quite a lot of them, believe that all Christians go to heaven and everyone else goes to hell. I think it's rather more complicated than that.
The weekend is going very well so far, thanks. Hope yours is too.
Meva
I have no intention of ever suggesting that Christian values are exclusively held by Christians. Thinking that one's own little group has some sort of monopoly on truth and goodness is the first sign that one has joined a cult.
Thanks for sharing your mother's story. That was lovely.
Perseus
Dude, give me a little credit. Of course I've read the Old Testament. Cover to cover. HAve you?
There's a lot of good stuff in there, and then there the more difficult to justify parts that Dawkins likes to focus on.
My view is that those parts reflect a rather incomplete understanding that the writers had at the time they wrote it. I see the Old Testament as useful context and historical background for the New Testament, and a very good source of principles of social justice.
Sorry to any Jewish people who are offended by that, but you can't please everyone all the time.
You're right, religious debate is fun. Thanks for joining in.
I'm in the process of reading it cover to cover. The KJV of course. Those newer translations are crass.
If you go to my Perseus Q book review blog and click on 'Holy Bible' you can read my Old Testamant reviews.
Perseus
Greatly enjoyed your Leviticus review. If you can read Numbers without slipping into a coma, let me know how you did it.
Well, I'm a little bit behind in commenting on this but let me just say INC, what an insightful, honest post about your Christian beliefs. And thankyou everyone else, for the enlightening views on this topic.
All the more for me to think about. :)
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