The Bible: There is no such thing

The Catholic Mass liturgy includes three Old Testament (OT) readings, a selection from the prophets, and three readings from the New Testament (NT) to include Acts, the Catholic or Pauline Epistles, and the Gospels. During Christmas and Easter, a fourth is added for the evening service.

Growing up Catholic, I never had to read a bible. From Kindergarden through 8th Grade, I attended Catholic School and was taught Bible things including a year studying “Bible History.”

In the three-year liturgical cycle, I heard virtually the whole of Christian scripture read to me. In my eight years of parochial school, I took mandatory Religion and Catechism classes/courses as part the curriculum. I recall taking Bible History one year with a full-length history book to read.

I was taught the myth of Samson slaying the Philistines with the jawbone of an ass (hee-hee, back then) as historical fact. Since it is an OT story in the inerrant word of God, it must have been true.

There was no bible in my home. I doubt if many other Roman Catholics of my generation grew up reading a bible in the sense most adherents of sola scriptura (scripture alone) would understand it. We didn’t have to. A bible was read to us several times over by age 15.

How I became something of an amateur, or layman, bible study teacher (and expert?) forty years later would take too long to explain. But I was the first of such in a large Parish for about ten years. During that time, I acquired several different bibles, concordances, and various other materials that I used for learning and teaching.

The relationship people have with bibles fascinates me to this day. They claim to believe that it is the word of their god. They say it is the most important book ever written. Many have not read one single word of any bible, even if they own one.

Bibles are available for free in book form, electronically, or online. There is no excuse. Read one. Yes, an atheist just suggested that you read a bible.

One guy even used a bible recently as a prop for a political photo op (to evangelical silence, if not bizarre enthusiasm). I bet he never read it, could not say what version he was holding, how many books were in it, or if the religion of the church he stood in front of would approve of the translation.

We say it. We write about it. We talk about it all the time. However, there is no it. There is only them. There are hundreds of versions of the same book(s). I’ve seen the number 450, but I doubt there are so many official versions. It’s not the bible. It’s a bible—one of them.

One reason for this is the many different translations. Another reason is the various canons, or books and scripture, that are (or are not) included as authorized. Some of what may be included is referred to as apocrypha (not really the word of god).

There are no original bible writings that we can point to as the first or even the second copy. While some old scriptures do exist, they are far from first editions.

The Bible? Which one? It’s bibles. It’s them, not it. Confused by holy scripture, version 123.666 and 50 others.

Bill

Essay: Why So Negative?

Reality

I forget what she was talking about, but when I brought up reality, she said I should not be so negative. In her thinking, reality was bad. It was negative, and anyone who talked about it was likewise. In her defense, her life with a non-supportive alcoholic who eventually drank himself to death was certainly a negative reality. We were not discussing any specific topic, but even the term was a turnoff for her.

When I think about what she said, which basically shut me up, I always get philosophical and default to the line from Hamlet: “Why, then, ’tis none to you, for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. To me it is a prison. Well, then it isn’t one to you, since nothing is really good or bad in itself—it’s all what a person thinks about it.” I can’t say the line applies in every case. But sometimes it is precisely what we think about some reality that defines it for us.

I agree that reality is relative. And what isn’t? The thin line between one’s perception of reality and imagined non-reality, such as dream-based events, is the conscious choice between what is and what isn’t. But does any of that mean the one is negative and the other not? Is either reality or non-reality truth? Imagination is real. If one hears voices, the voices are really heard in the brain even if the source of a voice is either unknown or assumed.

I also agree with my friend who saw my broaching of reality as negative or dark for her, even if not for me. Much of reality sucks. Her experience was not mine. We make the best of life if we can make anything. But some might say the reality is that we can move on and find another, conceivably better, life.

Time and reality are relative to the individual. While the reality of the passage of time should be the same for each of us, that is seldom the case. Memories of the same event differ between individual witnesses. Experiencing current events is the same. When I walk out of a building and it is raining, I’m usually delighted. Then I hear others complaining about the nasty weather. It’s the same reality: a rainy day.

My response is to ask, what is non-reality? Why do I insist that it is necessary and okay to deal with what is real? Either it is what it is, or it’s not. Depending on the individual, the same real (or even imagined) event may be seen as either good or bad. The truth should be reality, but black or white is too often gray. So then, even truth becomes relative and based on outlook and experience.

If we see reality as negative, does that mean we conversely see non-reality as positive? And what of truth? If truth is negative, is untruth then positive? Maybe some think so.

A to Z Challenge 2020 (I=Ignorance)

Ignorance is lack of knowledge, education, or awareness. When I hear or see the word ignorant, I seem to want to interpret that negatively, as a lack of intelligence, for example. But, it’s not. All people, intelligent or not, are ignorant of some things. Some very intelligent people are ignorant of fundamental cognitive biases hindering their own critical thinking.

I’ve heard the idiom; I don’t know what I don’t know. The fact remains that there is a great deal of knowledge of which I’m ignorant. I know what some of it is. I don’t know, for another example, if I go to a church on Sunday and sit with hundreds of other people for an hour or more if I will become infected with a virus that will end my life in less than a month or two. I do know what happened to the ignorant folks who went to choir practice several weeks back. What they did not know infected many and killed some. What I don’t know can kill or injure me or others.

Willful ignorance is not defined the same way. The adjective changes everything. When people today go to choir practice, or to church, or have gatherings in their homes thinking it is a safe thing to do; or when they rely on a medication they are taking as a preventative measure, unlike the choir members who were infected out of ignorance, the new group is being willfully ignorant. They have been provided the knowledge, education, and awareness needed to be safe and to not endanger others. They are choosing to ignore it. Are they so brain-washed by religion, a minister, or family member that they flaunt their beliefs in the face of death to themselves or others? I think so.

But, like so many atheists (agnostics also), I like to say I don’t know when I don’t. I say it often. It turns out there is much of which I am, and shall remain, ignorant. That does not seem to trouble most others. Yet, some folks demonstrate considerable irritation by my confession, and they suffer even more dissonance when they try to apply the phrase to themselves.

I know what I think. I think I like staying home.

Bill

A to Z Challenge 2020 (F=Fire walking)

I was watching one of those HGTV home buying shows. This lady needed to make sure that her property ($millions), as glorious as each one was, had enough size and location to construct a pit or platform for fire walking. She was a shaman or something.

I have seen many shows where the main criteria were enough yard for the dog to take a shit and run around, or maybe a garden for granny. I only watched one where the buyer wanted space so her clients would be able to walk through fire.

In some parts of the world, fire walking is part of a religious ritual associated with mystical powers of fakirs (love that name, but I must be mispronouncing it). They really do walk on burning coals. The lady buying the house really does do that. I could not stand to walk on coals that were room temperature or under water without shoes. Walking on burning coals has never been on my bucket list and it will not be.

In the USA this event has gone New Age as a self-empowering experience. Some see it as overcoming fears and phobias. This is not fake. People really do this. If you ever watched it, you probably noticed the brisk pace of the walker. They do not tarry in crossing. Nor do they want to fall. That is fire down below.

It is possible to walk on fire, or least on a bed of burning wood coals and not get burned. But burns do happen. The proper wood and charcoal must be used and the person building the fire needs to know what they are doing (shaking my head “no” as I wrote that).

I have no idea how this works physically or what psychological gain there is. But it’s physics: thermo dynamics, probably. And well-padded feet soles don’t hurt. Fire walking is neither magic nor magick, spirituality, religion, or some form of holiness. It is not the Universe blessing someone. But it’s also not fake.

Bill

A to Z Challenge 2020 (A=Angel Therapy)

Angel therapy is new age woo-woo claiming effective psychotherapy based on the idea that communicating with angels brings healing as the angel guides the patient.

I don’t remember ever trying to communicate with an angel, but I probably did. As a child, I was taught that we all had a guardian angel to guide each of us through life. I am certain that said guardian never said a word to me. If there ever was one, I’m sure he quit in frustration.

That is what this form of therapy (let’s not forget the therapist) is all about. It sounds copy-cat to me. Yesterday mine told me to wear a mask and gloves into the grocery store, even though I had no intention of robbing the place, although they did seem to have an unguarded supply of TP.

I should have acquired at least one roll to wipe up BS like this.

Bill

What is he thinking? (Updated)

Note: Thanks to Jim and Elizabeth, I learned that my header photo is not seen by all, unless they actually visit the site. I am including it here so that it will show up. I also removed the meme. ~ Bill

Credit: Old man on a bench, Santiago.jpg

The new header image I selected for Dispassionate Doubt is a photo called Old man on a bench, Santiago.jpg. It’s from Wikimedia Commons, a free media repository.

I like the picture and hope to write at least one ekphrastic poem from it. I assume others have.

I don’t use the word resonate often. But that man, his posture and expression, his clothing and surroundings, his hair and skin all combine to arouse my emotional curiosity. I want to know what he is thinking and why. I want to know his back story.

Why do I like the photo? Why do I relate?

I want to tell his story.

I am a septuagenarian who likes to sit on benches and watch life happen. I prefer earlier darker periods of mornings and the later evenings better—just before day light and just after.

I use the word ponder regularly because I enjoy my private contemplation and brooding meditation. I like to muse about life and to write my thoughts.

Look at him. What is he thinking? What do you think?