Something I've been thinking about quite a bit lately, and which has been brought to the forefront of my mind by the comments of two blogging Christian friends, is the idea of being a little sad for people who don't believe like you do.
I will admit right now, I don't really keep in touch with my former church friends. After I'd stopped going, I did received a few phone calls here and there but honestly the talks were uncomfortable to me and so a bit stilted. I didn't have it in me to explain things very well, and so I didn't. I was also going through a divorce at the time, and it was just easier to use that as an excuse as to why I wasn't attending.
I know that there are probably believer friends of mine who are sad that I no longer believe. The reason I know this is that I used to be a believer, and I know the sorrow that accompanies loving someone who you think is in danger of eternal damnation. Even short of that, there is a sadness that nonbelievers don't know the love of God or the fellowship of a community of believers. It is a real, honest sorrow, and it can definitely go beyond (and be devoid of) simply being judgmental.
But, those of us who don't believe can have a bit of a sorrow for those who do believe as well. We have a sorrow that your life can be limited by rules that might not apply to you, and might not do you any good. We have a sorrow that there is a whole world of experience and science and philosophy that your leaders would prefer that you ignore. We have a sorrow that you're spending a lot of time and money and energy on something that isn't real.
I don't mean to say this to be offensive at all; as I have said, I've been on both sides of it. I know the feelings well. So, for those who are believers and feel a bit sad for those who aren't, remember, they might think that about you as well. And nonbelievers - same to you, er, ah, us.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Redefining
One of the things that happens when you change your entire belief system is that you have a lot of redefining to do. I was a devout Christian - I believed it all and lived it as best I could. Christianity was not just a place I went to on Sunday mornings, or a box I checked on some demographic survey. It was the framework for how I lived my life.
A major category within that was love. Now, I grew up in a loving family. I had good examples of love all around me, and so I had a idea of what it meant to treat people with love. But ultimately, when conflict arose as to just what love meant -- what "love would do" if you will -- I tried to rely on the Bible, specifically the "love" chapter in 1 Corinthians 13 (love is patient, love is kind, etc.).
Now, while I still think a lot of the description of love there is good and valid, it's not necessarily the be-all end-all of what defines love. I have learned that I have to define it for myself.
Recently I had a major conflict with someone I am very close to; in fact the conflict has not been resolved yet. Although part of me wants to respond in anger (and at times I did) I sort of gave myself a time-out to think about things more. And one of the major things I kept thinking was this: "How do I deal with this in the context of treating this person with love?"
You see, I don't need a god to tell me what love is. I don't need someone who went around smiting people all the time, and telling people how awful they were, as an example of how I should behave to people who I think have treated me unfairly. I think there has to be a better way.
Things like being patient and kind and humble are a good start. But the rest is left to me. I can define love, and what it means for how I treat people around me, in a way that doesn't follow a set of rigid guidelines from a book written by some guys who probably needed yet another way to control their wives.
It's not easy, but I'm trying. And I'm keeping that in the back of my mind as I express my thoughts and feelings to someone who's hurt me deeply - that I love this person, and it means something even without religion.
A major category within that was love. Now, I grew up in a loving family. I had good examples of love all around me, and so I had a idea of what it meant to treat people with love. But ultimately, when conflict arose as to just what love meant -- what "love would do" if you will -- I tried to rely on the Bible, specifically the "love" chapter in 1 Corinthians 13 (love is patient, love is kind, etc.).
Now, while I still think a lot of the description of love there is good and valid, it's not necessarily the be-all end-all of what defines love. I have learned that I have to define it for myself.
Recently I had a major conflict with someone I am very close to; in fact the conflict has not been resolved yet. Although part of me wants to respond in anger (and at times I did) I sort of gave myself a time-out to think about things more. And one of the major things I kept thinking was this: "How do I deal with this in the context of treating this person with love?"
You see, I don't need a god to tell me what love is. I don't need someone who went around smiting people all the time, and telling people how awful they were, as an example of how I should behave to people who I think have treated me unfairly. I think there has to be a better way.
Things like being patient and kind and humble are a good start. But the rest is left to me. I can define love, and what it means for how I treat people around me, in a way that doesn't follow a set of rigid guidelines from a book written by some guys who probably needed yet another way to control their wives.
It's not easy, but I'm trying. And I'm keeping that in the back of my mind as I express my thoughts and feelings to someone who's hurt me deeply - that I love this person, and it means something even without religion.
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