Admiral Steveface (pandoras_closet) wrote in faithlikewhoa,
Admiral Steveface

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Philosphy In A Teacup

A close, dear friend of mine is a rabid, religion hating atheist, and I'm something of a spiritual person, which makes our friendship really odd, in some lights. We both agree that if we had known about each other's views at the start, the friendship wouldn't have happend . . . probably.

Normally, by mutual agreement, we don't discuss theology, but I was telling her about a science fiction story I read once. In it, there's this one Christian on a deep space exploration ship. Just one, and the rest of the crew, all athesists, laugh at him for his beliefs. The ship comes across a system where the star had gone nova thousands of years ago and appears to have taken a planet full of life with it. So he does the math and realizes that the light of the Supernova would have reached Earth just in time to be the Star that guided the Three Wise Men to Baby Jesus. Then he angsts about how God killed the planet in order to bring His son to the human race.

The whole story was rather preachy which always makes me roll my eyes, but it is something to make you stop and think. Would God really have killed an entire planet, just to announce the birth of His son? Questions like that.

Her response, and I qoute: I get angry because religion, particularly xianity, affects my life in a negative way. I get angry because I don't understand why people can't open their eyes and just see what is there I get angry because it isolates me from people, because they let this myth dictate their lives and they also try to push it on others and it gets in to the laws. When you can look at something and see that it's fake- like when you can spot fake boobs and suddenly they don't give you the twinge in the shorts now- it pains me to know that people won't open their eyes because they are afraid to think for themselves because of some supposed afterlife or whatever BS.

I agree with her up to a point. But for me, my faith is more along the lines of God does His thing, I do mine, and if He needs me I got His back, but otherwise, we don't talk much.

To which, she pointed that out that if that was the case, what's the point?

So I thought about it, and decided that it really boiled down to a fear of the unknown. It's like having a stuffed teddy bear, something to hold on to at night when it's dark. It's not an excuse to claim superiority, or hate indiscriminatly, it's that stuffed Bear you still hang on to because you're just used to having it there, even if you have outgrown it.

Does the teddy bear make the dark go away? Does it light up? No. But you grab it, you hold on to it, and somehow it makes you feel better. That's what it means to me personally.

That's when I realized something along the lines of; "Dude! Jesus is my teddy bear!"

From there it went into that Santa Claus, Santa being God as they share certain traits, and her and me raising hell in High School.
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