We are the neediest kids ever.
When this class began, it made me start thinking on levels I'd never reached before. I can honestly say this class has permanently changed me, and I can only begin to ponder if it's a good thing or not. I think about the vastness of time, space, and religion on a regular basis, and have come up with several of my own ideas. I'm even considering writing some of my ideas into a way of living. I've been doing so much work in the concept of the right way to live, and it's caused me to have some very new ideas. Well, new to me, at least.
All this said, I am so tired of reading what people have to say about God. We have no idea what the hell he wants from us. The best we have are books written in a time before we fully understood the concept of hallucinogenics. I don't want to discredit all religion, but frankly, I kinda need to discredit all religions. I am not disputing that many wonderful things have happened that cannot be explained. I'm not arguing that the powerful religious figures in our past didn't exist. All I'm saying is that we have no definite proof of anything.
This is so hard to write. I feel like a real ass, just spouting off about things I don't fully understand, but it's relevant, I guess, because my problem is with people talking about things they don't understand. We've read so many different passages about concepts of God and his teachings, and most of them were based on introspective meditation. I don't think I can believe we can learn about the reason we even exist at all by thinking hard about it. I don't think we can ever understand God. Ever. Even in death. Something that has so much power wouldn't bother with us. It doesn't make sense, which is really what this is all about. We can never know what God is, no matter how connected we feel with him. This isn't to tear down religion, but to connect something so. Vastly. Powerful. seems impossible.
Oh, and prayer never made sense to me either. If he's all powerful, he already knows. If he's not, how can he possibly help all of us?
Have a great weekend.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Plato
“I broke into your house last night, and left a note at your bedside.”
-Spitting Games by Snow Patrol
“I've been walking erect since the moment we met.”
-Shiksa (Girlfriend) by Say Anything
“Dim my eyes if they should compromise our fulcrum what you need divides me then I might as well be gone.”
-Jambi by Tool
Love is, as far as I can tell, in the eyes of the beholder. Who can define love? Love is... horrible. It can ruin people's lives. People kill and get killed because of love. We wake up in tears, screaming at the ceiling and clawing at our beds because of love. We die, because we know it's impossible to wake up without it. Love is calming. Love is holding hands and knowing she's never going to run away. It's holding one another with under a darkening sky as the lake continues to ripple. As we wake up, it's the smile knowing they're waking up next to you. Love is nervous. Love is shaking at the school dance. Love is erasing the second line of the poem over and over again. Love is growing roses because buying them isn't good enough. Love is learning her name, and love is whispering it to her. Love cannot be rationally explained. Love can save the planet, and love can tear the city down around the lovers.
Now, I understand that Plato is a universally accepted intelligent person. Mostly everyone can at least say with confidence that he was a smart Greek. That is something in and of itself, to survive for so long with that simple idea. I am not going to say that he isn't exactly what he is known to be: one of the most quoted and most acknowledged thinkers of this planet. That said, I think he's very wrong about love. Love is not universal. Love is not the same for anyone, let alone everyone. I don't think I've experienced love, but what little I have experienced scratching at the great maw of life is more than what he described. I don't believe love is some great understanding that comes akin to an enlightenment. It's the most wonderful brutality that people can experience, and it must be experienced kicking and screaming. All love has its trials, which make it all the better.
I hate to be the cynic, but it's so much more romantic to think of the desperation that love can bring rather than penning it off to proper meditation. I'd rather be broken by it any day over realizing it through proper study.
-Spitting Games by Snow Patrol
“I've been walking erect since the moment we met.”
-Shiksa (Girlfriend) by Say Anything
“Dim my eyes if they should compromise our fulcrum what you need divides me then I might as well be gone.”
-Jambi by Tool
Love is, as far as I can tell, in the eyes of the beholder. Who can define love? Love is... horrible. It can ruin people's lives. People kill and get killed because of love. We wake up in tears, screaming at the ceiling and clawing at our beds because of love. We die, because we know it's impossible to wake up without it. Love is calming. Love is holding hands and knowing she's never going to run away. It's holding one another with under a darkening sky as the lake continues to ripple. As we wake up, it's the smile knowing they're waking up next to you. Love is nervous. Love is shaking at the school dance. Love is erasing the second line of the poem over and over again. Love is growing roses because buying them isn't good enough. Love is learning her name, and love is whispering it to her. Love cannot be rationally explained. Love can save the planet, and love can tear the city down around the lovers.
Now, I understand that Plato is a universally accepted intelligent person. Mostly everyone can at least say with confidence that he was a smart Greek. That is something in and of itself, to survive for so long with that simple idea. I am not going to say that he isn't exactly what he is known to be: one of the most quoted and most acknowledged thinkers of this planet. That said, I think he's very wrong about love. Love is not universal. Love is not the same for anyone, let alone everyone. I don't think I've experienced love, but what little I have experienced scratching at the great maw of life is more than what he described. I don't believe love is some great understanding that comes akin to an enlightenment. It's the most wonderful brutality that people can experience, and it must be experienced kicking and screaming. All love has its trials, which make it all the better.
I hate to be the cynic, but it's so much more romantic to think of the desperation that love can bring rather than penning it off to proper meditation. I'd rather be broken by it any day over realizing it through proper study.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Jumping Feet First To Land Running
It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done.
-A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
I wake every morning in the same bed I’ve slept in for over four years. Tomorrow, there are good odds I will wake up there again. There are good odds I’ll wake up in it a year from now. I take showers in the same shower, dry with the same towel, and put on mostly the same clothes. Clothes are one of the few things that change with time, and even then it happens in phases. I leave my house and greet my same friends. I can go days without seeing them, for we are a family all our own, but we do always end up seeing each other. I do meet new people, but it’s rarely the same: I doubt I’ll ever find friends I will bond with like these now, even though the gaping maw of my future path is open wide and grinning. I meet women, but even then it becomes the same routine over time. The easiest way to mix it up is to not think at all, simply act and react, but this has its drawbacks, most of which are painful and memorable.
I need to get out of here.
I love my friends, I love my bed, I love my clothes, and I love the women I meet, but in the end, it all seems like ashes when thought about into oblivion. I sit and think far too much than is healthy about life and the future, and all I do is terrify and excite myself. There are two given solutions to such a life and living it: I can stop thinking, or I can run. I can either ignore the feelings in my chest and the thoughts in my head, and instead live vicariously through my actions, or I can run into these thoughts head on, and I hope I break them before they break me.
After more thinking, which, understandably, put in the decision making situation in the first place, I’ve decided to run. Just for a while, just long enough to see what it is I’m thinking about, but it’s a decision nonetheless. After this semester, I’ll be heading north for about a week or two. I’m saving money up now, and I know of a few places I can sleep at. The plan is to take a train north and find my way back down. I know it sounds stupid and dangerous, but if I don’t, my brain will become stupid and dangerous. It seems like a fair exchange, but maybe that’s only because my brain is already partially stupid and dangerous.
The reason I’m posting this on blogger is because this is definitely going to be a religious trip. I plan on speaking with some religious official in every city I get to, regardless of affiliation. Actually, I’m hoping to meet more Islamic teachers than I am priests. That’s where most of my thoughts end up, so a journey to understand religion outside of a textbook seems appropriate.
I’ll be accepting reasons not to go, but I’ll accept donations more readily.
Wish me luck.
Macbeth.
-A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
I wake every morning in the same bed I’ve slept in for over four years. Tomorrow, there are good odds I will wake up there again. There are good odds I’ll wake up in it a year from now. I take showers in the same shower, dry with the same towel, and put on mostly the same clothes. Clothes are one of the few things that change with time, and even then it happens in phases. I leave my house and greet my same friends. I can go days without seeing them, for we are a family all our own, but we do always end up seeing each other. I do meet new people, but it’s rarely the same: I doubt I’ll ever find friends I will bond with like these now, even though the gaping maw of my future path is open wide and grinning. I meet women, but even then it becomes the same routine over time. The easiest way to mix it up is to not think at all, simply act and react, but this has its drawbacks, most of which are painful and memorable.
I need to get out of here.
I love my friends, I love my bed, I love my clothes, and I love the women I meet, but in the end, it all seems like ashes when thought about into oblivion. I sit and think far too much than is healthy about life and the future, and all I do is terrify and excite myself. There are two given solutions to such a life and living it: I can stop thinking, or I can run. I can either ignore the feelings in my chest and the thoughts in my head, and instead live vicariously through my actions, or I can run into these thoughts head on, and I hope I break them before they break me.
After more thinking, which, understandably, put in the decision making situation in the first place, I’ve decided to run. Just for a while, just long enough to see what it is I’m thinking about, but it’s a decision nonetheless. After this semester, I’ll be heading north for about a week or two. I’m saving money up now, and I know of a few places I can sleep at. The plan is to take a train north and find my way back down. I know it sounds stupid and dangerous, but if I don’t, my brain will become stupid and dangerous. It seems like a fair exchange, but maybe that’s only because my brain is already partially stupid and dangerous.
The reason I’m posting this on blogger is because this is definitely going to be a religious trip. I plan on speaking with some religious official in every city I get to, regardless of affiliation. Actually, I’m hoping to meet more Islamic teachers than I am priests. That’s where most of my thoughts end up, so a journey to understand religion outside of a textbook seems appropriate.
I’ll be accepting reasons not to go, but I’ll accept donations more readily.
Wish me luck.
Macbeth.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Abu Abdallah Al-Harith Al-Muhasibi
I love you.
God and love are usually synonymous within religious circles. I don't know if I've ever seen a book, poem, speech, essay, credo, maxim, or phrase about God that didn't either directly say or at least imply God's love. God loves all of us, from the wicked to the willing, from the slave to the sadist. He welcomes rapist, poet, lover and philosopher. He understands and knows all of us. He sees all. He loves all, for all is in His form, in His name, living and dying by His timetable. He is, well, God, Godding it up with as much Godliness as he has, which is a surprisingly large amount of Godliness. And he loves: everything I've ever read about him can always be followed back to that simple and awe inspiring knowledge: He loves us. He doesn't care who you are, but only that you are His child. You may stray away from the flock, but you are still his sheep, and he is only saddened that you cannot share Heaven with him. He loves you, and accepts you, and has always done so.
It's so touching to read a passage devoted to God's love and how we see it. It's everywhere, and to follow it is natural, and to stray is impossible. It's hard for people to comprehend our own love. Love between people is as beautiful as it can be frightening. We cross oceans out of love, and we also raze buildings to the ground because of it. Love can make us stay up at night, staring at the stucco and trying desperately to go to sleep, if only to be rested to see her tomorrow. Love makes us lose our cool. Love makes us dig scratches into their backs. Love makes us stare. Love makes us freak out. There are millions of things the simple explosion of love can do to people. We don't know how it works. We can't honestly say we understand it. We can only embrace it, and feel its maddening tug pull us along through life.
God's love: everything stated above, multiplied by infinity.
Crazy @#$%, right?
God and love are usually synonymous within religious circles. I don't know if I've ever seen a book, poem, speech, essay, credo, maxim, or phrase about God that didn't either directly say or at least imply God's love. God loves all of us, from the wicked to the willing, from the slave to the sadist. He welcomes rapist, poet, lover and philosopher. He understands and knows all of us. He sees all. He loves all, for all is in His form, in His name, living and dying by His timetable. He is, well, God, Godding it up with as much Godliness as he has, which is a surprisingly large amount of Godliness. And he loves: everything I've ever read about him can always be followed back to that simple and awe inspiring knowledge: He loves us. He doesn't care who you are, but only that you are His child. You may stray away from the flock, but you are still his sheep, and he is only saddened that you cannot share Heaven with him. He loves you, and accepts you, and has always done so.
It's so touching to read a passage devoted to God's love and how we see it. It's everywhere, and to follow it is natural, and to stray is impossible. It's hard for people to comprehend our own love. Love between people is as beautiful as it can be frightening. We cross oceans out of love, and we also raze buildings to the ground because of it. Love can make us stay up at night, staring at the stucco and trying desperately to go to sleep, if only to be rested to see her tomorrow. Love makes us lose our cool. Love makes us dig scratches into their backs. Love makes us stare. Love makes us freak out. There are millions of things the simple explosion of love can do to people. We don't know how it works. We can't honestly say we understand it. We can only embrace it, and feel its maddening tug pull us along through life.
God's love: everything stated above, multiplied by infinity.
Crazy @#$%, right?
Muhammad
Surrender seems real.
I was excited this week about learning about Islam. I admittedly knew next to nothing about it before we began, and even now have only begun to scratch the surface. Despite this religion being one of the newest major religions to be accepted by the world, it seems to be built on principles and ideas prevalent among many other religions. I've said it before and will most likely say it again: at the core, many religions share the same thoughts. Do not harm others. Love your God. Be honest. Be good. Do what is right. Most religions are designed on principles, or built on the backs of a man and his words, or a combination of both. It seems, like Christianity, that Islam is built firmly on the words and life of a very worthy man.
When first reading this passage, a few things struck me immediately. One was the actual word choice of Muhammad. “We created men: We know the very whisperings within him and We are closer to him than his jugular vein.” To me, this says more than entire sections in the Bible. It seems real. I spoke in an earlier writing about how when the writer of a passage seems real, it becomes simpler to see the message he has. This is definitely the case with Muhammad. After these few words, the rest of the passage began to seem less like an assignment and more like plunging into wisdom. “Wherever you turn is God's face.” It's simple, elegant, complicated, and short. I can find many passages within the Bible that share this sentiment, but to find it in so few words is something rare.
“True religion is surrender.” I love these words. Every time I think of religious devotion, I think of a deal with God. Men pray to God, worship Him, and in return, he guides, touches, and accepts them. This short line speaks of an entirely different way of knowing God. He is not some change machine that you can receive from as you give: he is God. He is, and He is more than that. You cannot expect from him, but only jump off the cliff and feel him tearing your skin apart. You must jump into the ocean and know He is every drop, and feel them all at once. You must fall in love and know that to truly feel God's love would be more than your mere body could take. You would break in ecstasy.
God is God, and cannot be less than that.
I was excited this week about learning about Islam. I admittedly knew next to nothing about it before we began, and even now have only begun to scratch the surface. Despite this religion being one of the newest major religions to be accepted by the world, it seems to be built on principles and ideas prevalent among many other religions. I've said it before and will most likely say it again: at the core, many religions share the same thoughts. Do not harm others. Love your God. Be honest. Be good. Do what is right. Most religions are designed on principles, or built on the backs of a man and his words, or a combination of both. It seems, like Christianity, that Islam is built firmly on the words and life of a very worthy man.
When first reading this passage, a few things struck me immediately. One was the actual word choice of Muhammad. “We created men: We know the very whisperings within him and We are closer to him than his jugular vein.” To me, this says more than entire sections in the Bible. It seems real. I spoke in an earlier writing about how when the writer of a passage seems real, it becomes simpler to see the message he has. This is definitely the case with Muhammad. After these few words, the rest of the passage began to seem less like an assignment and more like plunging into wisdom. “Wherever you turn is God's face.” It's simple, elegant, complicated, and short. I can find many passages within the Bible that share this sentiment, but to find it in so few words is something rare.
“True religion is surrender.” I love these words. Every time I think of religious devotion, I think of a deal with God. Men pray to God, worship Him, and in return, he guides, touches, and accepts them. This short line speaks of an entirely different way of knowing God. He is not some change machine that you can receive from as you give: he is God. He is, and He is more than that. You cannot expect from him, but only jump off the cliff and feel him tearing your skin apart. You must jump into the ocean and know He is every drop, and feel them all at once. You must fall in love and know that to truly feel God's love would be more than your mere body could take. You would break in ecstasy.
God is God, and cannot be less than that.
Friday, October 10, 2008
One day, I'm gonna get up, and get right back into the city with my flamethrower mouth, you bet your life it won't be pretty.
-Chia-Like, I Shall Grow by Say Anything
Our words are so much more potent than we really realize.
I have a feeling that every religion is the same thing, but nobody bothered to tell anybody else. Every religion we’ve studied so far has had some idea of an enlightenment: a concept about either escaping or fully realizing the reality around them. All of them require a realization, and all of them have some stipulation or other regarding material wealth. All of them can happen to any person, but most of them don’t push the idea of enlightenment onto people. There are so many similarities: it’s as if during the Axial Age, everyone got together and had an assembly, where they agreed not only on a grand truth, but then also decided to totally @#$% with every other generation that was to come afterward.
Another similarity is impossibilities in wordplay. “I am the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end.” Such a statement is seemingly impossible. That said, it makes more sense than a never ending net covered in identical gemstones. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Again, impossible unless one is willing to believe. You have to believe for these things to be possible. Faith fuels the idea, which gives it life and power enough to spread, thus becoming a theory, and then a religion. At which point you are persecuted, because your idea isn’t exactly the same as theirs, even though the basic concepts are similar.
And the cycle continues. Thank God… thank ____ for basic cable, or else all we’d do is kill each other.
All of this originates from words. Language is one of, if not the most, important aspect of humanity, as it allows us to grow and change. I feel like I’m beginning to stray away from John the Evangelist’s teachings, but these are the things his words made me think about. With sentience comes questioning, and with questioning comes a demand of answers. When none come, we devise our own based on what we believe we don’t know.
It’s all so very confusing, long, and impossible. I know the Evangelist meant nothing but good things, but he sent me spiraling into confusion. Thank ____ nobody cares about new ideas anymore.
-Chia-Like, I Shall Grow by Say Anything
Our words are so much more potent than we really realize.
I have a feeling that every religion is the same thing, but nobody bothered to tell anybody else. Every religion we’ve studied so far has had some idea of an enlightenment: a concept about either escaping or fully realizing the reality around them. All of them require a realization, and all of them have some stipulation or other regarding material wealth. All of them can happen to any person, but most of them don’t push the idea of enlightenment onto people. There are so many similarities: it’s as if during the Axial Age, everyone got together and had an assembly, where they agreed not only on a grand truth, but then also decided to totally @#$% with every other generation that was to come afterward.
Another similarity is impossibilities in wordplay. “I am the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end.” Such a statement is seemingly impossible. That said, it makes more sense than a never ending net covered in identical gemstones. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Again, impossible unless one is willing to believe. You have to believe for these things to be possible. Faith fuels the idea, which gives it life and power enough to spread, thus becoming a theory, and then a religion. At which point you are persecuted, because your idea isn’t exactly the same as theirs, even though the basic concepts are similar.
And the cycle continues. Thank God… thank ____ for basic cable, or else all we’d do is kill each other.
All of this originates from words. Language is one of, if not the most, important aspect of humanity, as it allows us to grow and change. I feel like I’m beginning to stray away from John the Evangelist’s teachings, but these are the things his words made me think about. With sentience comes questioning, and with questioning comes a demand of answers. When none come, we devise our own based on what we believe we don’t know.
It’s all so very confusing, long, and impossible. I know the Evangelist meant nothing but good things, but he sent me spiraling into confusion. Thank ____ nobody cares about new ideas anymore.
Jesus of Nazareth
If only there was someone worth listening to…
I never thought of Jesus as a person before. It seems wrong to consider the figurehead of Christianity, the unstoppable, inhuman force bound by a sacred book, to be a mere person. He should be fantastic at the very least, unbelievable in all aspects. He must be huge, towering over his subjects even as he meets their stares with calm, loving eyes. He must be a veritable walking encyclopedia of quotes and sayings, able to sway the most confident of naysayers with simple, manmade words. His presence should be enlightening, his followers abject, his form perfect. How then is it possible for Jesus to be human? How could he be cold to his parents? How could he need saving from sin through John the Baptist? And more importantly, how could he live on forever in his teachings and his words?
It seems impossible for Christianity to have grown to the level it’s currently at, but it has. America was founded on its beliefs. Millions have been killed in his name, and millions have been saved. His mere name can inspire a myriad of reactions: love, hope, hate, denial, disdain, acceptance, fear, and grace, to name but a few. The burden he carried as he died seems trivial compared to the burden he know carries as the focal point of one of the most influential religions, and by that, one of the most influential powers, on the planet.
That said, I can’t imagine the burden resting on anyone else’s shoulders.
His teachings, while seemingly outdated, are as true today as they were when he first came to understand them, waiting for forty days and forty nights as he contemplated the meaning of everything. Rather than offhandedly dismissing it all as 42, he instead went on to speak some of the most profound and hopeful words recorded and recovered through time. From the simple “Unless you change your life and become like a child, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven,” to the more complex story of the prodigal son, his words have gone on to carve a huge part of the world out for his teachings.
I’m glad to know what I now know about him. I never really took the time to research Jesus properly, but after learning more about him and his teachings, I’ve come to realize why so many people follow him. Despite the trouble in his beginnings, it’s he legacy that truly went on to change the world. Does it matter whether he’s right or not? Shouldn’t we rather just be glad that his teachings carried on and not Caligula’s?
I never thought of Jesus as a person before. It seems wrong to consider the figurehead of Christianity, the unstoppable, inhuman force bound by a sacred book, to be a mere person. He should be fantastic at the very least, unbelievable in all aspects. He must be huge, towering over his subjects even as he meets their stares with calm, loving eyes. He must be a veritable walking encyclopedia of quotes and sayings, able to sway the most confident of naysayers with simple, manmade words. His presence should be enlightening, his followers abject, his form perfect. How then is it possible for Jesus to be human? How could he be cold to his parents? How could he need saving from sin through John the Baptist? And more importantly, how could he live on forever in his teachings and his words?
It seems impossible for Christianity to have grown to the level it’s currently at, but it has. America was founded on its beliefs. Millions have been killed in his name, and millions have been saved. His mere name can inspire a myriad of reactions: love, hope, hate, denial, disdain, acceptance, fear, and grace, to name but a few. The burden he carried as he died seems trivial compared to the burden he know carries as the focal point of one of the most influential religions, and by that, one of the most influential powers, on the planet.
That said, I can’t imagine the burden resting on anyone else’s shoulders.
His teachings, while seemingly outdated, are as true today as they were when he first came to understand them, waiting for forty days and forty nights as he contemplated the meaning of everything. Rather than offhandedly dismissing it all as 42, he instead went on to speak some of the most profound and hopeful words recorded and recovered through time. From the simple “Unless you change your life and become like a child, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven,” to the more complex story of the prodigal son, his words have gone on to carve a huge part of the world out for his teachings.
I’m glad to know what I now know about him. I never really took the time to research Jesus properly, but after learning more about him and his teachings, I’ve come to realize why so many people follow him. Despite the trouble in his beginnings, it’s he legacy that truly went on to change the world. Does it matter whether he’s right or not? Shouldn’t we rather just be glad that his teachings carried on and not Caligula’s?
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