Lolly

The rector of my church, a very progressive Episcopal parish, frequently refers to us as an evangelical tradition, and has said that she'd very much like to see the term "evangelical" reclaimed from the fundamentalists and returned to its original meaning.

Well, okay, I guess I can poke some fun at my own denomination

 

This one is stolen from an Episcopalian board:

 

A line of people was formed up at the Pearly Gates, waiting to enter. St. Peter was checking their names off a clipboard. The next man stepped up and said, "Peter, I'm Jewish, can I still get in?"

 

 

St. Peter said, "Why, of course. We have a reciprocity agreement. Let me just check your records here . . . Uh oh. You know that BLT sandwich you had last week? The "B" is for bacon, and bacon is pork, and you know you're not allowed to eat pork. Sorry, come back later."

 

 

The next man stepped up. "St. Peter, I'm Roman Catholic, surely you'll let me in."

 

 

St. Peter says, "Why, of course. Let me just check the documentation here . . . Hmmmm -- you know that Big Mac you ate last Friday. It's Lent, you know -- no meat on Friday. You'll have to come back later."

 

 

The next man steps up. "I'm Episcopalian, I can get in right away, can't I?"

 

 

St. Peter says, "Naturally! Let me just check this over . . . Uh oh. That vestry dinner last week? You ate your salad with the fish fork."

Probably the saddest aspect of the "War on Drugs" for me is that it has created a black market subculture for the sale of illegal drugs which, since it exists outside the law, operates without accountability to the society it markets to... which causes a great deal of social misery. Also, that it criminalizes normal adolescent curiosity and behavior.

 

I wonder why we feel driven to hate or scapegoat these so-called "stoner kids?" Don't you think most of them would grow past this phase in thier lives? I know I did. Don't most kids flirt with testing the boundaries, trying out for themselves all the tantalizing things they've been told by others aren't good? Isn't that a normal part of what it is to grow up, grow beyond the control of our parents so that we can become independent and make our own way in the world?

 

Aren't these kids really just like most of us were when we were that age, curious about the world, learning deep lessons about pain and the avoidance of pain? Haven't most of us tried some stupid things in an effort to "fix" our own discomfort at merely being alive?

 

Yet we have created a culture in which this behavior is criminalized, and this attitude is so pervasive that we have no problem displaying our open contempt for such "stoner kids", some of whom fall down the rabbit hole because they buy into the glamorization of this criminal subculture which the war on drugs itself has wholly created. The vast majority of these are kids that could use a little understanding, yet many hold them in contempt. Why is that?

 

Our kids are tossed into jail for the smallest of "crimes", where they are effectively removed from society and their odds of going on to create a meaningful or productive life for themselves are severely diminished. To me, that should be criminal.

 

At the same time, we repeatedly are told that the best and quickest way to happiness is through the use of prescription drugs, some of which are every bit as addictive as the drugs that have been criminalized.

 

Does no one else see the irony here?

I feel a bit of a lightweight in this conversation, having virtually no training in Western Philosophy at all, but I hope you all will humor me if I comment now and then, anyway.

 

The problem, as I see it, is with the idea that "God created" - IF we understand that God (or the ONE) is the only ultimate and primordially a single actuality or "Being". From where would this creativity come?

 

This is why I'm intrigued by the way the expression "the word" (logos) is used in John's Gospel. In my current leanings, the only way "creation" could have happened in a perfect void where all was God would have been if God decided to express him/herself.

 

Perhaps this initial expression (or word) was the initial (and only?) act of creation, which set into motion all the dynamics-- the chain of cause and effect-- from which all form has since sprung?

 

And, I do also lean toward this view, myself:

 

My personal view is that God, in a desire to experience itself, manifested itself into a Universe, thus creating relativity. How can a conscious thing experience itself except in relation to something else?

 

This would fall into line with the ideas above, I think.

I know this is beyond obvious, but monism (and related Eastern thought) and Judaism/Christianity are diametrically opposed belief systems.

 

Yes, I know, and my hardcore buddhist friends tell me the same thing. That's why I'm here

 

Honestly, I never "got" Christianity at all until I was fully steeped in "Eastern thought." After that, it just made so much sense to me, I couldn't believe that I had never been able to see it before.

 

So much of the way we view things depends on the conditions under which we've formed our thoughts and opinions-- the traditions we've been raised with, the belief systems we've adopted that have formed our way of being in the world.

 

I could never hope to see the world through the eyes of DCJ, and I am sure DCJ does not see the world through my eyes. Yet we are both looking at the same world. Nothing wrong with that, from where I sit.

BTW, it is exactly this sort of connectedness that comes to mind when I ponder what it is to be a "living member of the Body of Christ". Kind of cool, huh?

Fatherman:

 

What you are saying is that non-dualism leads inevitably to nihilism.

 

In my experience, non-dualism when not fully understood can frequently lead to nihilism. On the buddhist boards I read, I see this argument that Don refers to daily; it's a common "phase", if you will, among those who are trying to wrap their minds around a non-dualistic way of thinking.

 

Fortunately, most eventually grow beyond it. I very much like the way you've put this here:

 

Personally, I hold the view of qualified non-dualism which is what Jesus expresses when he said "I and the Father are one." There is an "I" and their is a "Father". This view is that we are all of God but no one of us is alone is God. Just like an individual drop of water in the ocean is ocean, but by itself it's only a drop of water.

 

Thich Nhat Hanh speaks in a similar fashion, and talks of conventional and ultimate realities. Conventional reality is the world of appearances, where things appear to be quite separate from everything else. It's the world of form and function. Ultimate reality comes into view when one sees the connectedness of all things, or, as you put it, that "we are all of God, but no one of us alone is God". Seeing this, we understand that when we help ourselves, we also help others, and vice versa.

I ask, good fruit or not?

 

Well, I've been staying out of this discussion, primarily because Jen's Jesus has put me in the rather uncomfortable position of feeling as though I should correct Jesus' assertions about what the buddha was teaching in the four noble truths.

 

But, since you ask, I might as well toss this out.

 

 

(6) The Truth is that you knew before you agreed to be born as a human that it was gonna hurt (see the first of the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism), but it really shouldn't have to hurt as much as it does. (This is where I diverge from Buddhist thought).

 

The first noble truth is that "Life is dukkha". Dukkha is usually translated as "suffering". No problems here.

 

There are many translations of the noble truths, but in essence, the rest of the noble truths are as follows:

 

The origin of suffering is egoistic craving and attachment.

 

There is a way to the cessation of suffering.

 

This Way is the Eightfold Path:

Right Understanding;

Right Thinking;

Right Speech;

Right Attitude;

Right Livelihood;

Right Effort;

Right Mindfulness;

Right Concentration.

 

four noble truths reference link

 

 

So, not only does the buddha agree that "life doesn't have to hurt as much as it does," but he also believes that there is a way to make this so, and goes on to describe it.

 

I don't want to turn this into a discussion of the relative merits of buddhist vs. christian philosophy, but I confess to a bit of skepticism here, as Jesus appears to be ignorant of the details of that which he refers to.

 

I'm going along with PantaRhea... I believe that Jen is sincere and is having a profound experience of some sort. I also believe that this experience may well be divinely inspired, but is this the voice of Jesus? I'm highly doubtful.

My current take on this (subject to change, of course) is that what God created when the first expression was uttered was the potential for everything and anything to exist as form.

 

What time provides is the media within which this expression of God's creation can become manifest.

 

What does God know? I haven't a clue. I suspect God has infinite knowledge of the potential of and for all things, but because the machinery set into motion at the moment of creation resulted in beings with ideas and ego and will and the knowledge and means to impact the universe through decisions and choices made (this being what is really meant by man being made "in god's image" perhaps?), what becomes manifest as form is always changing in ways not directly dictated by God.

 

I don't see God as some sort of cosmic "director" seeing to it that a set script is acted out. I do see God as experiencing all of creation through the created. I believe that in this way God completely experiences the fullness of life through the living nature of all creation; our purpose is perhaps to fully open up to this experience.

I like the idea of mindfullness and self-examination as a practice (very Buddhist, but very Christian as well).

 

Yes, as someone who still does regular zen practice, I have to agree that mindfulness practices appear to me to be very helpful in terms of creating a place within where the voice of God can be heard above the usual noise and chatter.

 

Since coming to know Christ, my way of practice has not changed very much. I still sit quietly in meditation, I still bring myself to mindfulness throughout the day. But I do remind myself, from time to time, that I am in the presence of Christ, and in the presence of God, and I do understand now that in those most mindful of moments it is God's presence that I am feeling.

 

I'm strongly convinced that the buddhist path of selflessness/ego-loss is no different in practice from the Christian path of reconciliation. In order to fully reconcile oneself to God, it is essential that we completely surrender our will and give ourselves up to the will of God. But, we cannot do this as long as we cling to preconceived notions about what it is God wants from us. Only through opening up completely in mindfulness to what is all around us can we see and hear God in everyday things, everyday life.

 

My take on it, anyway.

Published on Monday, December 6, 2004 by

CommonDreams.org

On Receiving Harvard Medical School's Global

Environment Citizen Award

by Bill Moyers

 

On Wednesday, December 1, 2004, the Center for Health

and the Global Environment at Harvard Medical School

presented its fourth annual Global Environment Citizen

Award to Bill Moyers. In presenting the award, Meryl

Streep, a member of the Center board, said, "Through

resourceful, intrepid reportage and perceptive voices

from the forward edge of the debate, Moyers has

examined an environment under siege with the aim of

engaging citizens." Here is the text of his response

to Ms. Streep's presentation of the award:

 

I accept this award on behalf of all the people behind

the camera whom you never see. And for all those

scientists, advocates, activists, and just plain

citizens whose stories we have covered in reporting on

how environmental change affects our daily lives. We

journalists are simply beachcombers on the shores of

other people's knowledge, other people's experience,

and other people's wisdom. We tell their stories.

 

The journalist who truly deserves this award is my

friend, Bill McKibben. He enjoys the most conspicuous

place in my own pantheon of journalistic heroes for

his pioneer work in writing about the environment. His

bestseller The End of Nature carried on where Rachel

Carson's Silent Spring left off.

 

Writing in Mother Jones recently, Bill described how

the problems we journalists routinely cover -

conventional, manageable programs like budget

shortfalls and pollution - may be about to convert to

chaotic, unpredictable, unmanageable situations. The

most unmanageable of all, he writes, could be the

accelerating deterioration of the environment,

creating perils with huge momentum like the greenhouse

effect that is causing the melt of the arctic to

release so much freshwater into the North Atlantic

that even the Pentagon is growing alarmed that a

weakening gulf stream could yield abrupt and

overwhelming changes, the kind of changes that could

radically alter civilizations.

 

That's one challenge we journalists face - how to tell

such a story without coming across as Cassandras,

without turning off the people we most want to

understand what's happening, who must act on what they

read and hear.

 

As difficult as it is, however, for journalists to

fashion a readable narrative for complex issues

without depressing our readers and viewers, there is

an even harder challenge - to pierce the ideology that

governs official policy today. One of the biggest

changes in politics in my lifetime is that the

delusional is no longer marginal. It has come in from

the fringe, to sit in the seat of power in the oval

office and in Congress. For the first time in our

history, ideology and theology hold a monopoly of

power in Washington. Theology asserts propositions

that cannot be proven true; ideologues hold stoutly to

a world view despite being contradicted by what is

generally accepted as reality. When ideology and

theology couple, their offspring are not always bad

but they are always blind. And there is the danger:

voters and politicians alike, oblivious to the facts.

 

Remember James Watt, President Reagan's first

Secretary of the Interior? My favorite online

environmental journal, the ever engaging Grist,

reminded us recently of how James Watt told the U.S.

Congress that protecting natural resources was

unimportant in light of the imminent return of Jesus

Christ. In public testimony he said, 'after the last

tree is felled, Christ will come back.'

 

Beltway elites snickered. The press corps didn't know

what he was talking about. But James Watt was serious.

So were his compatriots out across the country. They

are the people who believe the Bible is literally true

- one-third of the American electorate, if a recent

Gallup poll is accurate. In this past election several

million good and decent citizens went to the polls

believing in the rapture index. That's right - the

rapture index. Google it and you will find that the

best-selling books in America today are the twelve

volumes of the left-behind series written by the

Christian fundamentalist and religious right warrior,

Timothy LaHaye. These true believers subscribe to a

fantastical theology concocted in the 19th century by

a couple of immigrant preachers who took disparate

passages from the Bible and wove them into a narrative

that has captivated the imagination of millions of

Americans.

 

Its outline is rather simple, if bizarre (the British

writer George Monbiot recently did a brilliant

dissection of it and I am indebted to him for adding

to my own understanding): once Israel has occupied the

rest of its 'biblical lands,' legions of the

anti-Christ will attack it, triggering a final

showdown in the valley of Armageddon. As the Jews who

have not been converted are burned, the messiah will

return for the rapture. True believers will be lifted

out of their clothes and transported to heaven, where,

seated next to the right hand of God, they will watch

their political and religious opponents suffer plagues

of boils, sores, locusts, and frogs during the several

years of tribulation that follow.

 

I'm not making this up. Like Monbiot, I've read the

literature. I've reported on these people, following

some of them from Texas to the West Bank. They are

sincere, serious, and polite as they tell you they

feel called to help bring the rapture on as

fulfillment of biblical prophecy. That's why they have

declared solidarity with Israel and the Jewish

settlements and backed up their support with money and

volunteers. It's why the invasion of Iraq for them was

a warm-up act, predicted in the Book of Revelation

where four angels 'which are bound in the great river

Euphrates will be released to slay the third part of

man.' A war with Islam in the Middle East is not

something to be feared but welcomed - an essential

conflagration on the road to redemption. The last time

I Googled it, the rapture index stood at 144-just one

point below the critical threshold when the whole

thing will blow, the son of God will return, the

righteous will enter heaven, and sinners will be

condemned to eternal hellfire.

 

So what does this mean for public policy and the

environment? Go to Grist to read a remarkable work of

reporting by the journalist, Glenn Scherer - 'the road

to environmental apocalypse. Read it and you will see

how millions of Christian fundamentalists may believe

that environmental destruction is not only to be

disregarded but actually welcomed - even hastened - as

a sign of the coming apocalypse.

 

As Grist makes clear, we're not talking about a

handful of fringe lawmakers who hold or are beholden

to these beliefs. Nearly half the U.S. Congress before

the recent election - 231 legislators in total - more

since the election - are backed by the religious

right. Forty-five senators and 186 members of the

108th congress earned 80 to 100 percent approval

ratings from the three most influential Christian

right advocacy groups. They include Senate Majority

Leader Bill Frist, Assistant Majority Leader Mitch

McConnell, Conference Chair Rick Santorum of

Pennsylvania, Policy Chair Jon Kyl of Arizona, House

Speaker Dennis Hastert, and Majority Whip Roy Blunt.

The only Democrat to score 100 percent with the

Christian coalition was Senator Zell Miller of

Georgia, who recently quoted from the biblical book of

Amos on the senate floor: "the days will come, sayeth

the Lord God, that i will send a famine in the land.'

He seemed to be relishing the thought.

 

And why not? There's a constituency for it. A 2002

TIME/CNN poll found that 59 percent of Americans

believe that the prophecies found in the Book of

Revelation are going to come true. Nearly one-quarter

think the Bible predicted the 9/11 attacks. Drive

across the country with your radio tuned to the more

than 1,600 Christian radio stations or in the motel

turn some of the 250 Christian TV stations and you can

hear some of this end-time gospel. And you will come

to understand why people under the spell of such

potent prophecies cannot be expected, as Grist puts

it, "to worry about the environment. Why care about

the earth when the droughts, floods, famine and

pestilence brought by ecological collapse are signs of

the apocalypse foretold in the Bible? Why care about

global climate change when you and yours will be

rescued in the rapture? And why care about converting

from oil to solar when the same God who performed the

miracle of the loaves and fishes can whip up a few

billion barrels of light crude with a word?"

 

Because these people believe that until Christ does

return, the lord will provide. One of their texts is a

high school history book, America's Providential

History. You'll find there these words: "the secular

or socialist has a limited resource mentality and

views the world as a pie

that needs to be cut up so

everyone can get a piece.' however, "[t]he Christian

knows that the potential in God is unlimited and that

there is no shortage of resources in God's

earth

 

while many secularists view the world as

overpopulated, Christians know that God has made the

earth sufficiently large with plenty of resources to

accommodate all of the people." No wonder Karl Rove

goes around the White House whistling that militant

hymn, "Onward Christian Soldiers." He turned out

millions of the foot soldiers on November 2, including

many who have made the apocalypse a powerful driving

force in modern American politics.

 

I can see in the look on your faces just how had it is

for the journalist to report a story like this with

any credibility. So let me put it on a personal level.

I myself don't know how to be in this world without

expecting a confident future and getting up every

morning to do what I can to bring it about. So I have

always been an optimist. Now, however, I think of my

friend on Wall Street whom I once asked: "What do you

think of the market?" "I'm optimistic," he answered.

"Then why do you look so worried?" And he answered:

"Because I am not sure my optimism is justified."

 

I'm not, either. Once upon a time I agreed with Eric

Chivian and the Center for Health and the Global

Environment that people will protect the natural

environment when they realize its importance to their

health and to the health and lives of their children.

Now I am not so sure. It's not that I don't want to

believe that - it's just that I read the news and

connect the dots:

 

I read that the administrator of the U.S.

Environmental Protection Agency has declared the

election a mandate for President Bush on the

environment. This for an administration that wants to

rewrite the Clean Air Act, the Clean Water Act and the

Endangered Species Act protecting rare plant and

animal species and their habitats, as well as the

National Environmental Policy Act that requires the

government to judge beforehand if actions might damage

natural resources.

 

That wants to relax pollution limits for ozone;

eliminate vehicle tailpipe inspections; and ease

pollution standards for cars, sports utility vehicles

and diesel-powered big trucks and heavy equipment.

 

That wants a new international audit law to allow

corporations to keep certain information about

environmental problems secret from the public.

 

That wants to drop all its new-source review suits

against polluting coal-fired power plans and weaken

consent decrees reached earlier with coal companies.

 

That wants to open the arctic wildlife refuge to

drilling and increase drilling in Padre Island

National Seashore, the longest stretch of undeveloped

barrier island in the world and the last great coastal

wild land in America.

 

I read the news just this week and learned how the

Environmental Protection Agency had planned to spend

nine million dollars - $2 million of it from the

administration's friends at the American Chemistry

Council - to pay poor families to continue to use

pesticides in their homes. These pesticides have been

linked to neurological damage in children, but instead

of ordering an end to their use, the government and

the industry were going to offer the families $970

each, as well as a camcorder and children's clothing,

to serve as guinea pigs for the study.

 

I read all this in the news.

 

I read the news just last night and learned that

the administration's friends at the international

policy network, which is supported by ExxonMobil and

others of like mind, have issued a new report that

climate change is 'a myth, sea levels are not rising,

scientists who believe catastrophe is possible are 'an

embarrassment.

 

I not only read the news but the fine print of the

recent appropriations bill passed by Congress, with

the obscure (and obscene) riders attached to it: a

clause removing all endangered species protections

from pesticides; language prohibiting judicial review

for a forest in Oregon; a waiver of environmental

review for grazing permits on public lands; a rider

pressed by developers to weaken protection for crucial

habitats in California.

 

I read all this and look up at the pictures on my

desk, next to the computer - pictures of my

grandchildren: Henry, age 12; of Thomas, age 10; of

Nancy, 7; Jassie, 3; Sara Jane, nine months. I see the

future looking back at me from those photographs and I

say, 'Father, forgive us, for we know not what we do.'

And then I am stopped short by the thought: 'That's

not right. We do know what we are doing. We are

stealing their future. Betraying their trust.

Despoiling their world.'

 

And I ask myself: Why? Is it because we don't care?

Because we are greedy? Because we have lost our

capacity for outrage, our ability to sustain

indignation at injustice?

 

What has happened to out moral imagination?

 

On the heath Lear asks Gloucester: 'How do you see the

world?" And Gloucester, who is blind, answers: "I see

it feelingly.'"

 

I see it feelingly.

 

The news is not good these days. I can tell you,

though, that as a journalist, I know the news is never

the end of the story. The news can be the truth that

sets us free - not only to feel but to fight for the

future we want. And the will to fight is the antidote

to despair, the cure for cynicism, and the answer to

those faces looking back at me from those photographs

on my desk. What we need to match the science of human

health is what the ancient Israelites called 'hocma' -

the science of the heart

..the capacity to see

.to

feel

.and then to act

as if the future depended on

you.

 

Believe me, it does.

Sounds about right to me

An excellent quote; thank you for sharing it here.

 

I had an opportunity this weekend to spend some time with my husband's sister and her husband. We are quite progressive, while they are more fundamentalist in their beliefs and outlook.

 

As we spent time talking, I began to realize that, when one sets aside the labels, it becomes possible to tease out common areas of interest and concern. It was only when things came up in converstation which seemed to challenge certain closely guarded notions that things became momentarily tense.

 

In this case, during a conversation with my brother-in-law, there was discussion of education and one of us mentioned that with a college education, kids would learn the essential skill of "thinking for themselves". At this, it was as though a switch had been thrown and we were treated to a ten minute tirade about how God didn't want us thinking for ourselves; God wanted us to follow His Word and that the job of a parent was to guide the child to fear God and in a way that God would approve of, etc. We just listened politely while his face got redder, his hands got shakier, and his voice got louder as he defended his ideology.

 

The outburst culminated in his saying to my husband something like, "I may even be one of the people you hate!" at which point I quietly and calmly said "I don't think he hates anyone". At this, the switch was thrown again... brother-in-law was back in the room; ranting was over.

 

Reading between the lines, I understood that he was really saying that kids need guidance, and he took the concept "thinking for oneself" to mean no guidance at all. It's a black-and-white sort of way of viewing the world, which I think is fairly common among fundamentalists. I'd argue, actually, that there is a certain personality type, or phase of emotional development, or what have you, which clings to black and white thinking out of the need for a sense of security. But I digress.

 

Outside of this outburst (and I'll admit my husband was sort of testing to see where his boundaries were), we had a very pleasant weekend, and we discovered much about one another that I believe pointed to common interests and concerns about the world we live in.

 

He's not a demon. I'm not a demon. Yet as a society we've allowed ourselves to fall prey to the politics of demonization, and we've drawn lines in the sand that represent sides to be taken and defended. I believe that if we can stop looking at the world in this way, and can instead simply listen deeply to one another, we can find ways to work together for common interests. In this way, perhaps the demonic images of one another that we've created in our minds can begin to fade.

This question came to me during the Christmas Eve sermon. Thought it mignt be interesting to ask it here.

 

If Jesus was not the biological son of Joseph, as many believe, how is it possible to make the claim that he is a descendant of David, and thereby heir to David's legacy/throne?

PantaRhea:

 

Apparently, it feels like risky business for many of us to just let things be what they are without trying to fold all of our views into some unified, labeled system of thought.

 

 

I'm not exactly sure of your meaning here but it is important for me to have a unified (coherent) worldview.

 

Sorry; this is a clumsy way of trying to say that it seems to me to be human nature to want to roll our personal beliefs into some unified system of thought that we can easily identify as an "ism" or "anity" or by some label which allows others to make ready judgments about what it is we believe, think, do, etc.

 

I suppose from a sociological perspective it feels risky for us to do otherwise because, as humans, we tend to group together, and we form our social groups according to commonalities. In this context, developing a unified, coherent, but atypical world view might be a bit of a social risk.

 

I do agree that a unified and coherent worldview is important... it's important for me too, but what is perhaps equally important to me is remaining open for its growth and change. A stagnant worldview is incomplete; it's always yesterday's news.

 

I'm not so sure that delusion is the problem so much as the misinterpretation of spiritual experiences. If we could only accept the idea that our interpretations are always limited or incomplete we might be open to more truth.

 

Yes. By "delusion" here, I guess I pretty much mean this idea that our interpretations are or can ever be complete or wholly accurate.

 

I tend to tread lightly here, reminding myself that to believe that I understand completely "the way things are" is a bit like saying that I understand the will of God, which seems a bit presumptuous. This is similar to what, in zen, is called maintaining a "don't know" mind.

 

I think the best I can hope for as far as "understanding" goes is to open myself up to God and move as best as I can toward reconciliation through grace and humility-- and I have a lot of work to do before I could honestly call myself humble.

 

We must belong to the same religion! 

 

 

I honestly can't say what religion I "belong" to... in the sense I spoke of above, I certainly consider myself a Christian. In a more traditional light, I have been baptized, I am a member of a wonderful, progressive congregation, and I go to services. I have a growing love of Christ and what I believe he stood for. However, my view of spirituality continues to be filtered through so much that isn't traditionally Christian, and it's not possible to "put the genie back in the bottle" and pretend otherwise, nor would I want to, so I continue to do all my zen things as well. It seems to work pretty well for me so far-- as long as I'm not attempting to dialog about it too much with traditionalists on either side.

 

I'm quite grateful, though, that I've finally been able to touch Christianity in a meaningful way (or, more properly put, to allow it to touch me).

PantaRhea:

 

I begin with the basic premise that God's love is not exclusive. Following from Process Theology, God is the All-Inclusive Whole. There is absolutely nothing which is excluded from God's sympathetic awareness. Also, I accept the premise that, contrary to the modern worldview, the whole universe - all actuality - is related and interdependent.

 

I think this (and what follows it) is an excellent summation of how I feel with regard to "truth matters".

 

I have practiced buddhism for many years, and was passionately atheistic for a time, but I began to identify with the teachings of Christ once I understood them to actually stand defiantly outside of any authority, or the codification of religious or institutional tradition (regardless of what the institutions themselves may claim).

 

To my mind, Christ's message is a relatively simple one: Love others as you would love yourself, let no one be excluded from God's table, abhor oppresion, and care for those who are downtrodden. To walk through the world in this manner, as much as is humanly possible, is what it means to me to be Christian.

 

Most of the traditional "markers" of Christian faith are things that I see in a mainly metaphorical context, and in this light they don't particularly conflict with anything I've come to an awareness of through my buddhist practice. Go figure.

 

For me, the "boundaries" between most religions only exist in the mind, as a matter of interpretation, or perhaps of self-identification/projection. Apparently, it feels like risky business for many of us to just let things be what they are without trying to fold all of our views into some unified, labeled system of thought.

 

Having said that, I will quickly add that not everything labeled "religious" by one group or another need have a basis in truth, and there are certainly things people believe as part of their religion which will more properly fall under the heading of religious delusion.

 

I'd argue that much of the mainstream beliefs in all major religions belong here, actually.

 

Going back to the beginning of this post, though, I guess I would say that I currently believe that the teachings on inclusiveness and loving-kindness are possibly the most important or relevant points that Christ had to make. From there, so much else flows.

 

And yes, I do agree that everything is interdependent. Nothing exists in a vacuum.

 

Thanks for the good discussion

hello, surattius

 

I am new to this board and also a new Christian; I recently became a member of the Episcopal Church in the US.

 

From what I've been given to understand, the Episcopalian way of doing things is rather similar to Roman Catholicism, liturgically speaking, but quite a bit more open to individual interpretation, theologically speaking.

 

This is not meant as a "plug" for the Episcopal Church; it's pretty much all I'm familiar with as far as Christianity goes, however I'm pretty liberal and I took to it very quickly.

 

I understand that some parishes may be more progressive leaning than others; mine is extremely progressive but there are conservative Episcopalians, too. It may be worth investigating a few Episcopal (or Anglican) churches in your area to see how you feel about the services.

 

Good luck in your quest!

 

Lolly

BrotherRog:

 

keeping Bush Jr. in will lead to further animosity among the radical Islamists

 

I certainly do agree with that. I have a hard time imagining that anyone could seriously believe that we are actually safer today than we were before Bush came into office.

 

The man has done everything possible to turn the United States into a unilaterally despised entity. The ranks of the radical Islamists grow because their "enemy" is doing everthing they say it is capable of. Duh.

 

It is certainly an interesting (and frightening) time to be an American. Not to mention, eye-opening.

 

As an American citizen, I am glad that today we have the internet; in many ways it's a good thing that the opinions of the rest of the world are also at our fingertips.

I am very relieved to find somewhere where people are openly talking about these issues from a liberal/progressive perspective.

 

As am I.

 

 

I've often chafed at ministers who I KNEW held liberal views but never brought them to the pulpit.

 

As a new Christian who came begrudgingly to faith through the ministry of a fairly liberal church, I can't say I've ever had this experience, but I can imagine it would be frustrating.

 

I've felt alone for many years with my thoughts except for some notable books.

 

I have always felt this way. Still do, actually

 

Even in my "fairly liberal church" I suspect I am a bit of an oddball when it comes to views. I believe in a non-literal and symbolic interpretation of scripture. I strongly believe in the example of the life of Christ, and I believe that much of what he actually taught has been misinterpreted, lost or forgotten.

 

I still have much to learn about the church and about the teachings and life of Christ, but when I concentrate on his life and his example, I cannot deny that he was a great teacher and an extraordinary being.

tea:

 

I do believe that Jesus brought reconciliation, but more through his life and revelation of God's love, there for the embrace of it (through faith and action), than through a death required by an angry God.

 

I agree with you here. I don't think the passion is unimportant, but I wonder if its importance might be somewhat different or more subtle than is often suggested.

 

I think that the truth of Christ's suffering and his willingness to suffer, his understanding of the ignorance of those who caused him to suffer, and his ability to still profess his love through that suffering is profoundly significant.

 

BrotherRog:

 

The Nonviolent Atonement[/i], by J. Denny Weaver

 

I looked this up on Amazon. From the reviews, it looks pretty interesting and sounds like it might come close to my own interpretation of the Passion and its significance. Thanks for the recommendation.