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Found 6 results

  1. Figured this needed its own topic to compile all the bullshit. First up is this jackhole of a judge in Tennessee And of course if you read on he had to trot out the old "my best friend is" excuse. I hope he gets a smack down from the judicial discipline folks in Tennessee.
  2. fransalley

    The Loop

    Here's the loop I find myself in: Everyone believes they're right. Everyone can prove it by Scripture. But too often, people use Scripture to come to diametrically opposing conclusions. So who's right? I don't know. It's impossible to figure it out. And I'm afraid of getting it wrong and going to hell.
  3. Was reading this article: https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2018/05/american-atheists-religious-european-christians/560936/ and figured other people here might have read it and have some interesting thoughts. Any non-believers here ever attended a gathering like Oasis? I'd be really fascinated by any European FJers opinion on the article's take on spirituality and religiosity in their countries, the idea that only 23% of European Christians were certain of the existence of a god astounded me. I've never created a topic before, my apologies if this isn't the right place for it.
  4. This is really difficult typing it all out, just writing the title felt weird. But here we go: I consider myself a liberal atheist. Meaning I do not believe in God, but I don't care what everyone else does or rather, I support liberal religions/people who choose to believe. I'm definitely not agnostic because I think believing that God made the world in seven days is - sorry - bullshit. It always baffled me when I saw supposedly religious people cry at funerals. In my understanding you see them again in heaven and I did notice that at some funerals people were not totally unhappy and the wording of the obituary was also different. Like "the body will be buried vs. the casket will be buried". I was told that those people think that the person is already with God so, they only bury a unimportant shell. Again, I try to explain it, but given that English ins't my mother tongue and the topic makes it extra hard. My personal situation is that once my parents die, as of now, I will be alone. Completely alone, no relatives, no friends. I'm Autistic, so I need a bit more support than other adults and it also explains my lack of social contacts. That situation makes me extremely sad every now and then. Now if I would believe in God, the fact that I loose my parents one day wouldn't be that hard because I would see them again in heaven. (And everyone else.) That thinking sounds child like, I know, but it is what I feel. Adding basic (idiotic?) logic leaves me at needing to start to believe in God/heaven to make me feel better about the future. (I get that finding friends would help as well, but like I said, I think believing is easier than that.) How do you start with a religion? How did you start to believe when you were atheist first? Please be kind, I know that I might sound pretty "dumb" or whatever for religious people. I'm just looking for something to help me.
  5. Hi, all. I'm a long-time lurker here on Free Jinger and an even-longer-time insomniac. So while I stayed up late last night, yet again scrolling through 'Quiver Full of Snark' and stifling my snorts and chuckles to avoid waking my sleeping boyfriend, I realized that I had yet to comment or use any of the new site features (including the option to create this blog). Honestly, I have to admit I've been a bit intimidated by the daunting number of in-jokes, acronyms, fundie-knowledge and general awesomeness I've only observed from a distance (self-admitted creepery, right there) . I know that's what 'SOTDRT' is for, but I guess my super-strength social anxiety can carry over to the Internet, too. Here we go... First, about the blog name: Fort Tryon Park is easily my favorite place on the planet and also where I spend a lot of my free time. It's stunningly beautiful in any season and home to the Cloisters Museum, which houses the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Medieval Art collection including the famed Unicorn Tapestries and painted reliquary busts of female saints. Access to the park and the Cloisters grounds is also 100% free (which makes it the perfect place for a broke twenty-something like myself to hang out) and just two blocks over from the shoeboxed-sized one bedroom apartment I share with my boyfriend, our cat, and our two ferrets. Plus, with the Met's "pick-your-price" donation policy, you can pay as little as $1 entry fee for the Cloisters. If you're ever in New York, make sure to take the A train uptown all the way to 191st Street to check out this totally underrated cultural gem. Speaking of reliquary busts, the Catholic Church has a long history of peddling the body parts of dead saints. Having been raised in an extremely religious Irish and French Canadian Catholic family, I'm no stranger to the bizarre and frankly kind of icky practice of venerating relics. My mom gave me the middle name "Thérèse" as a tribute to one of her favorite saints, Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, aka "the Little Flower of Jesus." The devotion to this particular saint was apparently inspired by her visit to the Carmel De Lisieux, the site of Thérèse's tomb and the Carmelite cloistered convent (say that ten times fast!) in Lisieux, Normandy where she made her claim to fame by basically being a model nun from the age of tender age of fifteen until her untimely death in 1897 from tuberculosis. She was 24 years-old when she died, which also happens to be my current age. #Goals. So, my largely Irish-and-Italian-American hometown had a designated boutique for Catholic knick-knacks right in the middle of a prime commercial real estate zone on Long Island, NY. It closed about six years ago, probably due in large part to the recession, and because all of the enthusiastic Catholic consumers have since retired and moved down to Florida. Pretty much everyone I went to Catholic school with has either lapsed in their faith or is a full-on Atheist. Unlike its neo-Evangelical counterparts, Catholicism isn't exactly hip. Over the past few years, Catholic Church closings have been commonplace in dioceses throughout the Northeastern and Midwestern United States. Although, it is pretty amusing to imagine Catholic goods stores blowing up on Yelp: Hipsters raving about growlers of filtered, ionized holy water and the energizing properties of the signature tea blend made from powdered remains of the Canonized. "The house blend StigMatcha red-green tea is literally the ONLY way I can start my day." and "Saint Boneventure's Bone Broth™ has been nothing short of miraculous in helping to cure my leaky gut syndrome!" Anyway, whenever someone we knew received a sacrament, my mom would run out to the Catholic store to get the appropriate gift for that occasion. At least for a Baptism, First Holy Communion, Confirmation, (First) Reconciliation, or Marriage... Anointing of the Sick gifties would be too morbid even for an Irish Catholic, and all of the family friends who took Holy Orders did so after the Catholic store had already closed. (Thank God for Online Shopping, am I right, ma?) So, for my first communion my mom handed me this delicately wrapped box from the local Catholic store. Inside was pair of rosary beads with a portrait of my middle-namesake in the center. When I turned it over, I noticed a small, reddish-brown dot coated with a clear lacquer. I naively asked my mom what the spot was, and she proudly explained to her stunned seven year-old daughter that it was a drop of St Thérèse's actual blood. Apparently, the addition of this hundred-year-old bodily fluid made it extremely special and holy. Looking back, few things illustrate the total incompatibility of my mother's and my world views quite like the fact that she fully expected me to be thrilled, and not, you know, totally horrified. I've since spent a good chunk of time playing the Elder Scrolls series, and can confidently say those rosary beads bordered on some straight-up fantasy RPG necromancy shit. But this is par for the course with the Catholic Church. Europe is littered with cathedrals, monasteries, and other pilgrimage sites where devoted Catholics gather to gaze upon the airtight glass displays showcasing the remains of "incorruptible" saints. While I'm no longer one of the Faithful, I still very much enjoyed visiting several of these sites, especially St. Denis’ Basilica just outside Paris. Between assigned course reading of Peter Brown and finally having the option of NOT attending Mass on Sundays, I have finally begun to appreciate these wonderfully weird relics for what they really are: a source of fascination, intellectual curiosity, and yes, even abject horror.
  6. For as long as I can remember I have been fascinated with religion. I have devoured books and documentaries. I have been in the front row of lectures. I have asked questions, read blogs, articles, magazines, etc. I have learned about major religions, fundamentalist groups, atheism, spiritual traditions, wicca, paganism, the druids, and the list goes on. I have visited churches listening to sermons from multiple branches of christianity. In searching through scientific papers, I hoped I would find the loopholes that would allow me to "just have faith". I have searched high and low. I wanted answers. I still do, but these days, in my later years, I realize that answers may not come and that is okay. I now know that I don't have to have all the answers to live a happy, productive and peaceful life. I recognize that placing the burden of my life onto someone else's understanding of a supreme being isn't necessary. I have survived (and sometimes thrived) through much turmoil and joy and I did it without giving the credit for either extreme to an unseen entity. Those bad decisions were mine - not satans. The good things I've done and experienced - they were from me too. My consequences were my own. My pain was my own and the love that I have for myself and those around me are all parts of me and me alone. That isn't to say that I didn't recognize that something was missing. I would look around at other people and see a deeper joy, a collective happiness of sorts and I would wonder - what does THAT feel like? They would meet in groups and talk about their faith. They had small meetings, studied books, held social events and played in bands. There were entire festivals build around a belief in someone outside of themselves that had to power to either bless them with great gifts, give them diseases, take away their loved ones, start wars and impoverish whole nations...they gave all of their power to this outside force and relieved themselves of the responsibility of their decisions and found a way to blame consequences and bad decisions on another 'evil' being. I recognize that I sound very pessimistic about the whole deal and in no way do I mean to thrash those who find there peace this way. I simply don't understand it. I am truly fascinated with the phonomena of faithfulness and those who are able to live their lives this way. I am really enthralled with the scientific community that has found there way to jesus or allah or buddha or yahweh. I want to know how they reconciled science and religion. I want to find the line between faith and reason. Has anyone ever felt this way? Do you know where that line is for you? If so, what made you take the leap - on to either side? My mind is open and I am always learning.
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