(August 19, 2015 at 7:24 pm)jiffy Wrote: I have a few questions regarding your perspectives on the church and Christianity..
**What are the big problems/issues you see in the Christian church today?
**Is your perspective of the former question from the inside (ie, your background was in church) or that of an outsider looking in? What took you away from church, if your background was church?
**What do you think about the person Jesus Christ? Is he real, historical person? Faked?
**What is the point or purpose in your life? What do you live for?
I'm especially interested in your responses to the first question!!
1. Yes I have many problems with the fundamentalist church : denial of science, treatment of atheists, gays, women, the incessant need for everyone to believe the same, their hypocrisy, their lacking of understanding the bible. I think it's best summed as, they are fucking nuts. Basically the Christian church is the embodied of ignorance and seems to what drag us backwards.
2.I was a united Baptist for many years. I was raised in the church, baptized at 14 and left officially at 22.
3. I don't think it matters worth a damn if there was some dude named jesus or if he is a myth. It's obvious that the deity jesus isnt real for many reasons such lack of extra biblical records. Moreover while I love the peace and love that Jesus preached his central doctrine of take no thought for the morrow is largely ignored because its so moronic.
4. I live for tomorrow. I feel that the Christianity definez purpose to ones life much like how I define the purpose of a hammer. To assign meaning to life is a over simplification.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
