Last year (2014-15) I took a level two module in Philosophy; this academic year I've been taking level three Classical Mythology. During this time two of my cousins (who were brothers) have died - Sean (49) was killed in a motorcycle accident in October '14 and Allister (52) passed away from a brain tumour just two weeks ago in April '16.
These things have led me to contemplate deeply the nature of God.
His Holiness The Dalai Lama advises against conversion stating that it is "advisable for people to stay within their traditional religious folds" (http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-otherstates/religious-conversions-are-not-advisable-says-dalai-lama/article4278920.ece) and when I experienced my spiritual awakening, with what I perceive as a miracle, in 1996 it seemed natural to lean toward my own religious background - The Church Of England.
Now this is a subject of some debate because although my parents describe themselves as agnostic they definitely lean towards atheism. I was not raised in any faith - my parents come from CofE backgrounds although my late maternal grandfather was raised a Catholic (one of his cousins also died recently, she was a nun with the Little Sisters of the Poor). Two of my schools made occasional CofE visits but I more frequently attended a Methodist church during my time in The Girls' Brigade.
For a number of years I attended church and even took confirmation but organised religion never gelled with my personal sense of God. Interestingly my recent studies have only acted to strengthen my personal beliefs and that is what I wish to share here.
The thing that annoys me most about religion and the arguments against it mistakes religion for FAITH. Religion and religious texts are blatantly man-made. Separating the two seems impossible in most people's eyes - the atheist gloats that someone's religious logic is fatally flawed whilst unaware that this does not equate to there being no god. Faith is something you feel in your heart and soul; religion is something that is learned or indoctrinated. I BELIEVE that there is a power in the universe I refer to as God. It is not logical or reasonable or provable; it is something I feel and no one can tell me it's not real because it is to me.
The Bearded Man In The Clouds
(The European visualisation of the Judeo-Christian God)
Clement saw that man created gods in his own image rather than the other way about stating: "Ethiopians say that their gods are flat-nosed and black, and Thracians that theirs have blue eyes and red hair" (Miscellanies, 7.22.1) and that if animals could draw "Horses would have drawn horse-like gods, cows cow-like gods, and each species would have made the gods' bodies just like their own" (Miscellanies 5.109.3). To me this is absolutely right - man has created God in his own image, not the other way about.
Good
Plato puts the following words into the mouth of his character Socrates: "Now gods, of course, are really good aren't they, and must be described as such?" (Republic 2.379b1)...but WHY? Once again we're clothing god in, if not our own attributes, then our expectations. We expect god to be good and then try to explain away pain and suffering. Of course, all things exist in balance; we cannot appreciate the light without the dark as a contrast. But beyond that there really is no reason to assume god created life out of love and wisdom and goodness...just because life may have been created by a sadistic idjit out of magic playdoh doesn't negate the role of aforementioned idjit as god.
This is essentially the same as building up a celebrity (whom we do not know personally) to be some sort of idol, a role model, an inspiration. Which is not to say we shouldn't do that but all the same, when we accept our idol's faults and appreciate them as a real human being like any other then our admiration is more worthy - building someone up, placing them on a pedestal and then blaming them for not living up to our expectations...now THAT is idiotic!
Omniscient
(all-seeing, all-knowing)
Sextus Empiricus had the measure of this: "...some shrewd and clever man first invented fear of the gods for mortal men, so that the wicked might have something to fear, even if their deeds or words or thoughts were secret" (Against the Professors 9.54, l. 12-15).
Yeah...God isn't watching you taking a dump or having sex or whatever. That's just creepy. However I do believe that the good or bad we do does affect us in a tangible way. I am undecided on the nature of an afterlife - most of the myths about it are entirely too constructed and I strongly suspect there isn't one. Perhaps God sends good and bad stuff your way based on how you act (karma), perhaps your sins stain your soul or your aura. I have no idea and I don't care a huge deal. I believe that people choose how to act, that religious beliefs and human laws shape how we choose to act but that we can still choose to be good without the threat of damnation.
Omnipotent
(all-powerful)
If a god or gods create all things then that god must be all-powerful and in control of everything, right? If you build a house are you responsible for it and everything that happens within it for all time? If you have a child are you responsible for their actions for their whole lives, and the actions of their children and their children's children? This makes no sense. Assuming a God created the world and all in it why assume *he* didn't gift it to us and that what happens thereafter is our own problem?
Now, I personally feel that we're all working to a plan. There's free will but there's also a design guiding us along. I don't believe god decides who lives and who dies because everyone dies. I believe that each person is here for a reason - and if you haven't 'fulfilled your purpose' then you'll survive even the weirdest of accidents. And your purpose could be tiny - I believe in the domino effect: each person has an effect on the next. My life has been changed any number of times by random people who will have no clue that they touched my life at all...most notably two mums at the GPs in 2012 talking about lactose intolerance. They could never have any idea that their conversation turned my life around and consequently my being well for the first time in over a decade has made it possible for me to go places and do things I couldn't have risked before. Perhaps at some point I will fulfill a purpose in a similar way, perhaps I have already done so. Who knows?
I love the Final Destination films because they fit so well with my ideas on this - that when your time is up, your time is up. If you're still meant to be here you will live another day, if you're not you won't and the more you interfere with the design of the universe the worse it'll be when it finally catches up with you.
Omnipresent
(present everywhere)
Now THIS is an idea I can really get behind - I view God as the Ch'i (Qi) of the universe; the life-force which exists everywhere and in all things. This also explains for me why I feel closer to God in natural surroundings; the more man has manipulated the environment the more disturbed that life-force is. God still exists in a modern high-rise but it's easier to feel on a beach or in a woodland or on top of a mountain...
So yeah, there you have it. That's the basic version of how I personally view god; not as the creation of man but the sense of power and design I FEEL at work in the world around me.
Showing posts with label belief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label belief. Show all posts
Saturday, 7 May 2016
Wednesday, 19 November 2014
Faith and Philosophy and Erni
I am currently working through the second of six text books on my current Open University course: A222 Exploring Philosophy. Book 2 is entitled 'The Philosophy of Religion' and it's giving me issues so I decided to write a blog entry on my issues of faith.
I was raised by agnostic parents. Both had been raised Church of England Christian but both had rejected organised religion. I don't think my dad ever cared for it but I recall attending church as a VERY small child - most likely no more than 3 years old. Religion - specifically Christianity - had very little place in my upbringing. I was sent to Girls Brigade (associated with a Methodist church) because there were no available places at Brownies; I attended a Church of England primary school for less than 2 years after I was pulled out of my previous school due to bullying (and left to go to secondary)...that was about it. Christmas wasn't a big deal in my family and what there was of it was definitely non-religious.
I remember being fascinated by religion - Cathedrals, temples, religious art, ancient faiths...but I never believed in the possibility of a God or Gods. I was most decidedly an atheist although in the 19 years since my epiphany my thinking on the subject has been somewhat forgotten.
Epiphany.The experience of sudden and striking realisation. Yes, that's the right word.
Today I had one of the most positive Twitter interactions in my 5 years on the site. It began with a comment I posted in relation to my OU materials:
I used to be an atheist. But listening to these atheists makes me cringe...such dumbarsery.
The atheists on the audio file may have had good and valid beliefs but the arguments presented were pure dumbarsery. Taken out of context I would have understood an atheist being quite pissed off with that tweet but a tweeter whose bio reads:
replied most politely:
Cool. Thanks for the response. Take care. :)
Given that I am quite used to my views (on any number of topics) being ridiculed or attacked I was dead chuffed that this was so positive. In the 21st century miracles are rather frowned upon but to me that's what happened. Someone else may rationalise it any way they want but it won't shake my belief that some higher power - which I shall call God - was at work.
My Miracle
On January 12th 1996 my daughter Erin was born. Many people consider 'the miracle of birth' to be a profound moment in their lives but my experience was a tad more literal perhaps.
A little background: I was a 17 year old single mother. I was not a happy bunny. I had never wanted children but following an unplanned pregnancy and trauma around a period of homeless and subsequent abortion...well, stuff happened. I was in no way, shape or form ready to be a parent. I was broke and living in a shelter. Life was hell enough. Add to this a pregnancy with repeated infections, hyperemesis gravidarum throughout (extreme morning sickness) and any ache, pain or niggle known to womankind I had really had enough. I had planned my suicide for after the birth due to depression over my abortion, my ex leaving me and my general situation.
Erin was born at 40 weeks +11. I had been induced as I was overdue and my labour had been horribly mismanaged...it lasted, by my reckoning, 27 hours. I was so out of it from exhaustion anaemia and blood loss that I wasn't aware of much at the time but later my mum (who was with me throughout) told me the truth of Erin's delivery. What she told me changed my life.
Erin's heart rate, monitored throughout, kept dropping off with every contraction but the midwife brushed it off...she should have been delivered by emergency Caesarian. The delivery took way longer than it ought to anyway - but they never tried ventouse or forceps either - I was just left to struggle to deliver a 9lb 11oz baby naturally. As it turned out the cord was twice around her neck and once around her body - she had been strangled and oxygen starved with every contraction for HOURS.
My mother described the delivery. Erin was blue and jelly like. She lay on the bed - no movement, no cry, nothing. The midwife DID NOTHING. My mother thought Erin was dead and threw herself on top of me so I wouldn't see.
My mother doesn't do emotion much. I thought it was weird her suddenly hugging me but I thought maybe she was acting the part for the midwife's benefit. In all honesty - if Erin had been dead, at that moment I was far too shattered to give a fuck about absolutely anything. Soz Erni!
Anyhoo, the way my mother told the story is that Erin started going pink. She'd just been left there, the midwife had done absolutely nothing to help or resuscitate her - didn't even check for a pulse. Then, as my mother was on top of me she'd called to my mum to hit the alarm button. People came running and there was a good bit of fuss...eventually I held Erin and there were photos and the usual stuff. But she was not given any particular treatment. They *might* have puffed some oxygen at her but absolutely nothing else.
My mother told me all this later due to concern about brain damage. Erin's father's sister had a baby boy who'd stopped breathing just after he was born - he was subsequently diagnosed with cerebral palsy. So there I am - 17, broke, in a shelter, new baby, stressed, traumatised, broken hearted from my partner's desertion...and now I find out that my baby damn near died at delivery - which to me was the defining moment of realisation that there was a God - and might well be brain damaged.
I'm not entirely sure WHY Erin's survival meant there had to be a God...it just DID, if you see what I mean. She was somehow meant to be here. I felt like I had been given a second chance to be a mother; particularly after my earlier abortion and a subsequent early miscarriage. I forgot about my planned suicide and stepped up to being a parent.
Over the years I watched Erin like a hawk and worried endlessly about her development. Was she deaf? Autistic? She was misdiagnosed as dyslexic at one point... She left school with 11 GCSEs (9 A*-C), passed her A-levels and this September started university. If anything could strengthen my belief that a miracle happened at her birth it would be that. For all that oxygen starvation the only possible indication of damage is that she is colour-blind...however, as her younger sister (full-blood, I was reunited with their father for a time) is also colour-blind and suffered no birth trauma it seems Erin was actually completely unscathed. If that's not a miracle I don't know what is! You might say it's chance or luck or that it wasn't that severe...but simply I can never believe it.
How I define God and what my faith is are topics for another time or never.
I was raised by agnostic parents. Both had been raised Church of England Christian but both had rejected organised religion. I don't think my dad ever cared for it but I recall attending church as a VERY small child - most likely no more than 3 years old. Religion - specifically Christianity - had very little place in my upbringing. I was sent to Girls Brigade (associated with a Methodist church) because there were no available places at Brownies; I attended a Church of England primary school for less than 2 years after I was pulled out of my previous school due to bullying (and left to go to secondary)...that was about it. Christmas wasn't a big deal in my family and what there was of it was definitely non-religious.
I remember being fascinated by religion - Cathedrals, temples, religious art, ancient faiths...but I never believed in the possibility of a God or Gods. I was most decidedly an atheist although in the 19 years since my epiphany my thinking on the subject has been somewhat forgotten.
Epiphany.The experience of sudden and striking realisation. Yes, that's the right word.
Today I had one of the most positive Twitter interactions in my 5 years on the site. It began with a comment I posted in relation to my OU materials:
I used to be an atheist. But listening to these atheists makes me cringe...such dumbarsery.
The atheists on the audio file may have had good and valid beliefs but the arguments presented were pure dumbarsery. Taken out of context I would have understood an atheist being quite pissed off with that tweet but a tweeter whose bio reads:
replied most politely:
What convinced you God exists?
and when I replied with "Personal experience, specifically of a miracle." responded:Cool. Thanks for the response. Take care. :)
Given that I am quite used to my views (on any number of topics) being ridiculed or attacked I was dead chuffed that this was so positive. In the 21st century miracles are rather frowned upon but to me that's what happened. Someone else may rationalise it any way they want but it won't shake my belief that some higher power - which I shall call God - was at work.
My Miracle
On January 12th 1996 my daughter Erin was born. Many people consider 'the miracle of birth' to be a profound moment in their lives but my experience was a tad more literal perhaps.
A little background: I was a 17 year old single mother. I was not a happy bunny. I had never wanted children but following an unplanned pregnancy and trauma around a period of homeless and subsequent abortion...well, stuff happened. I was in no way, shape or form ready to be a parent. I was broke and living in a shelter. Life was hell enough. Add to this a pregnancy with repeated infections, hyperemesis gravidarum throughout (extreme morning sickness) and any ache, pain or niggle known to womankind I had really had enough. I had planned my suicide for after the birth due to depression over my abortion, my ex leaving me and my general situation.
Erin was born at 40 weeks +11. I had been induced as I was overdue and my labour had been horribly mismanaged...it lasted, by my reckoning, 27 hours. I was so out of it from exhaustion anaemia and blood loss that I wasn't aware of much at the time but later my mum (who was with me throughout) told me the truth of Erin's delivery. What she told me changed my life.
Erin's heart rate, monitored throughout, kept dropping off with every contraction but the midwife brushed it off...she should have been delivered by emergency Caesarian. The delivery took way longer than it ought to anyway - but they never tried ventouse or forceps either - I was just left to struggle to deliver a 9lb 11oz baby naturally. As it turned out the cord was twice around her neck and once around her body - she had been strangled and oxygen starved with every contraction for HOURS.
My mother described the delivery. Erin was blue and jelly like. She lay on the bed - no movement, no cry, nothing. The midwife DID NOTHING. My mother thought Erin was dead and threw herself on top of me so I wouldn't see.
My mother doesn't do emotion much. I thought it was weird her suddenly hugging me but I thought maybe she was acting the part for the midwife's benefit. In all honesty - if Erin had been dead, at that moment I was far too shattered to give a fuck about absolutely anything. Soz Erni!
Anyhoo, the way my mother told the story is that Erin started going pink. She'd just been left there, the midwife had done absolutely nothing to help or resuscitate her - didn't even check for a pulse. Then, as my mother was on top of me she'd called to my mum to hit the alarm button. People came running and there was a good bit of fuss...eventually I held Erin and there were photos and the usual stuff. But she was not given any particular treatment. They *might* have puffed some oxygen at her but absolutely nothing else.
My mother told me all this later due to concern about brain damage. Erin's father's sister had a baby boy who'd stopped breathing just after he was born - he was subsequently diagnosed with cerebral palsy. So there I am - 17, broke, in a shelter, new baby, stressed, traumatised, broken hearted from my partner's desertion...and now I find out that my baby damn near died at delivery - which to me was the defining moment of realisation that there was a God - and might well be brain damaged.
I'm not entirely sure WHY Erin's survival meant there had to be a God...it just DID, if you see what I mean. She was somehow meant to be here. I felt like I had been given a second chance to be a mother; particularly after my earlier abortion and a subsequent early miscarriage. I forgot about my planned suicide and stepped up to being a parent.
Over the years I watched Erin like a hawk and worried endlessly about her development. Was she deaf? Autistic? She was misdiagnosed as dyslexic at one point... She left school with 11 GCSEs (9 A*-C), passed her A-levels and this September started university. If anything could strengthen my belief that a miracle happened at her birth it would be that. For all that oxygen starvation the only possible indication of damage is that she is colour-blind...however, as her younger sister (full-blood, I was reunited with their father for a time) is also colour-blind and suffered no birth trauma it seems Erin was actually completely unscathed. If that's not a miracle I don't know what is! You might say it's chance or luck or that it wasn't that severe...but simply I can never believe it.
How I define God and what my faith is are topics for another time or never.
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