I think if the idea of fallenness works for people, if it resonates with them in a way that makes the story of their own life more satisfying to them, then they should run with it. But it’s not something I’d impose on anyone, or claim for myself.

I believe the tendency to hurt others stems from a very narrow set of interests. I mean, in a very dire situation where people feel they have to compete for resources, I think it’s easier for them–us–to abandon all thought of anyone else and look out for only ourselves, or our families, or one particular community that we see as our own, to the detriment of anyone and everyone else. I think a kind of selfishness that takes in the whole world is more preferable, but I also recognize that it’s a luxury of sorts.

I do believe in forgiving people. No one benefits from revenge, or from nursing grudges. I mean, there might be momentary psychological satisfaction, but it doesn’t make anything better, and it might make things worse.

Regarding your dream, I can see how that would fit your theology. In the same situation, although I never know how I’ll react in dreams, if I had my druthers I’d go up to the counter, hand them the bag, and say, “Someone asked me to carry this. It’s not mine.” If they wanted to nail me for something, they could, but I’ve told the truth.

It’s not that I think I’m more virtuous than anyone else. If it was me in Eden, I’d be all over that fruit, and I wouldn’t even wait for the serpent. I would rather have the knowledge of good and evil than Eden, and I’d like to think that I would be honest about that. The difference is, I would look God in the eye while I plucked and ate, and not be ashamed. He can call it sin, and argue that I should try to distance myself from it, but it’s who I am, and I no longer want to disown that.

I also studied at York University, Keele Campus! :) I’ve since moved though. :|

I’m interested to know more about seeing yourself as not fallen, because I agree that without the idea of fallenness, Christ is unneccessary. Do you think everyone is not fallen? Or do you just consider yourself as not fallen? What do you think about the tendency we have to hurt others? Does the concept of forgiveness play into your view of things?

I’ll share with you a dream I once had. I’d be interested to hear what you might think of it from your perspective. In my dream, I had a bag of luggage that I knew contained stolen goods. I didn’t steal them myself but someone handed me the bag. I was going through a government checkpoint of some sort and standing in a long line. In my dream, I tried to drop the bag inconspicuously in some corner and continue going towards the counter. To my surprise, no one even asked me about the bag, but I was still wary. Anyway, I woke up from the dream and wondered what meaning it might have. Then I realized that everyone else in the line up was carrying luggage and that the goods inside their bags were all stolen too! To me, it meant that I could face the ugly stuff in my life (my tendencies to be anxious, to be mean to others, to be selfish, etc) – because everyone has it. And God accepts that part of me as well.

Anyway, I appreciate your willingness to dialogue!

I’m at York University, Keele Campus, and the name of the young woman was Shelly Chen. She was great, and I wish we’d kept in touch.

Oddly enough, it was Fred Phelps who led me to Paganism. On one of his first appearances on national American television, when I was seventeen, he was asked why he’d sent faxes denouncing a churchgoing politician as a Pagan. He said, “Anyone who does not believe in the literal truth of the Bible is a Pagan.” And I thought, all right, if Fred Phelps is a Christian, then I’ll be a proud Pagan. It was pretty superficial at the time, but the more I looked into it, the more Paganism seemed to be a more appropriate model for the way I related to the world now.

I’m a non-Wiccan–although I respect Wiccans very much–so I don’t really do the rituals. I have a few of my own, especially around the holidays. But I do my best to live in a way that recognizes the interconnectedness of everyone and everything. I try to be kind to folks, make choices that will have the best impact on the maximum number of people, and build bridges with people who are different from me, who might not agree with me.

I find it very fulfilling. Even though I don’t have a lot of rituals, my beliefs are always operating in my day-to-day world, so I have a way to stay connected, and I feel like what I’m doing makes the world a better place. I have bad days like everyone else, but at the centre of my life is a fierce, quiet joy that I do try to share with people.

Olive, thanks for your perspective! Even if I see Christ’s death as a restoration, though, rather than a loss…I still sting at the idea of the culpability involved in needing restoration in the first place, the idea that if I wasn’t such an awful sinner, he wouldn’t have needed to die. I couldn’t get past that until I stepped out of it altogether, and started to see myself as not fallen. But I do appreciate that other people have other interpretations.

I have also found it interesting to follow your discussion thread. I can identify with your sentiment of feeling “crushed under the weight of that guilt” [of one man, Jesus, dying for me]. I am also discovering that, as you said, “I do deserve love. Everyone does.” What I’m learning is that we were first and foremost created as loved persons (not condemned!) and that the most terrible effect of sin is that it prevents us from fully experiencing the love God offers. So perhaps Jesus’ death, then, was not as much about paying a price in our place (thus piling the guilt on us), as it was an act of love to open up a way for us to re-experience the fullness of the love we were first created to know (leading to true freedom and wholeness).

On another note, I would also agree that McManus doesn’t address the mystery and complexity of life in his book. But he does do a good job of opening the door for conversation!

Thanks for sharing your thoughts! I’d be interested to hear your answers to Jackie’s questions, too.

The immrama are early Irish voyage stories that sort of work to negotiate the transition from Paganism to Christianity. They involve visits to strings of islands in the west–then thought of as beyond the edge of the known world–where the world sort of unravels, and each of the islands represents a different component. They’re very eerie and beautiful, and if you’re interested, translations are available at http://www.lamp.ac.uk/celtic/AlphaCata.htm–the three are under “I,” and there’s also the Navigatio Sancti Brendani Abbatis.

I ended up reading Soul Cravings because in September 2008, I was on campus, standing in a two-hundred-person-long line to purchase a bus pass, when a young woman walked up and asked if she could talk to me. I said of course, and she started evangelizing, which was cool, because I do find it really interesting. We talked for an hour or more, and based on what I said she strongly recommended Soul Cravings. She was giving away packages but had run out of that particular book, so she even ran clear across campus and back to grab a copy for me (wrapped, as part of the package, in a laundry bag with the address of this site on it). She’d been great company, and apart from my interest in the topic, I felt like I owed it to her to read it.

The question you propose asking of God–I did ask it, when I was nineteen. Two years previous I’d converted to Paganism, not having been able to reconcile my experiences with Christianity anymore, and I’d been very happy since. But I’d been reading about the Abrahamic religions, so I asked. And nothing happened.

Well–not nothing. After a very loud silence, I asked myself: If I’m wrong, am I willing to deal with the consequences? And in that moment, I realized I was, and any lingering traces of fear of hell I had had evaporated.

I haven’t read the book. I love your list of soul cravings. I am not sure about immrama because I don’t know the meaning of the word. I will look it up. These experiences feed me also. They stir me, make me feel alive! But I am wondering, are they are actual ‘soul cravings’ feed me through my 5 senses. I guess it is based on our individual beliefs of what our soul is.

I appreciate your beliefs on Christianity. I would like to share some of mind. I believe human perception is based individual experience. Christianity is just a label and I do use that label in defining who I am. Knowing Jesus Christ is so much bigger and it is simple, though I couldn’t grasp that for many years. It is also supernatural. I have been to many churches during my life due to living in many different cities and state. In some the preacher yelled hell and damnation, you had to wear certain clothes, make up made you a Jezabel, etc. And yes, were all about guilt and shame which I already had plenty of. Others were more like social clubs. Show up on Sunday,greet every one, participate in activities and the rest of the time go home and live however they want till next time. Those things were not were not satisfying.

My guess is you would not have read the book this blog is about if you weren’t looking for answers.
If you really want to know the truth about God and what here’s something might try. Tell God what you feel about him. Then say “If you are real, if Jesus Christ really did come to give life, freedom, peace, comfort, joy, etc. then show me!”. I can guarantee that he will. His Holy spirit works in amazing ways.

What do you have to lose by asking?

Carol

One of the things that I learned when I was fifteen is that I do deserve love. Everyone does. But if it’s a kind of love that comes with guilt and strings, then I’d rather opt out.

Warren, Christianity taught me that a good man had died for me, to save me from my own irredeemable evil, even though I didn`t deserve it. I was crushed under the weight of that guilt for years. It made me hate myself, and it poisoned my relations with other people and my view of the world.

When I was fifteen, I realized that I was actually whole and beautiful and loved, and I darn well deserved to be loved, not in spite of what I am but because of it. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I was happy. I spent years trying to reconcile that feeling with Christianity, and I couldn`t, so I left.

I realize that other people have had more positive experiences with Christianity, and I`m pleased that they`ve had that, but it`s not for me. I never asked Jesus to die for me, and even as a Christian, if anyone had asked, I would have protested in horror that it would be better to kill me instead. But no one did ask, and I`m not comfortable profiting by someone else`s death. And maybe I am evil, but it`s a kind of evil that I can live with, and face in the mirror every morning, where I couldn`t before.