RE: Can a xtian god be free?
April 15, 2011 at 11:11 am
(This post was last modified: April 15, 2011 at 11:19 am by everythingafter.)
(April 15, 2011 at 3:43 am)fr0d0 Wrote: So you never understood why you were saved? Then you never were saved. Your selfishness won out over your desire for understanding.
I see you again point to some apparent deficiency within my self. Such is the way with Christianity. It's always something innately wrong with us humans isn't it? It can't be that god is the flawed one, can it? I also see you avoided the questions I raised like the plague. I have asked pastors some of these, and the best they can do is say stuff like, "Of course, there are things that are beyond our understanding."
Yes, at the time I understood perfectly well why I was saved. The questions I listed came years after I became saved but before my deconversion during the period in which things began making less and less sense. You know, when I decided to put my thinking cap on. In the period in which I fervently believed (15 years old through early- to mid-20s), I simply didn't think about my beliefs critically.
Our Daily Train blog at jeremystyron.com
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We have lingered in the chambers of the sea | By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown | Till human voices wake us, and we drown. — T.S. Eliot
"... man always has to decide for himself in the darkness, that he must want beyond what he knows. ..." — Simone de Beauvoir
"As if that blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope; for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. Finding it so much like myself—so like a brother, really—I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again." — Albert Camus, "The Stranger"
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We have lingered in the chambers of the sea | By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown | Till human voices wake us, and we drown. — T.S. Eliot
"... man always has to decide for himself in the darkness, that he must want beyond what he knows. ..." — Simone de Beauvoir
"As if that blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope; for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. Finding it so much like myself—so like a brother, really—I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again." — Albert Camus, "The Stranger"
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