“The work of God”?

[arfurclue]

But even then, even if he was just a famous inspirational blagger, not one contemporary source ever mentioned him. None of the Romans who were living there ever recorded his existence at the supposed time he was alive, none of the censuses picked him up, none of the Hebrews who were there at the time ever recorded his existence, not even any of his supposed followers recorded his existence.

All sources of Jesus are after his supposed death, most of the earliest sources are long after his supposed death, most by hundreds of years, most not even in Arabia.

His supposed existence holds about as much credibility as King Arthur, Beowulf, Robin Hood, all Greek Mythology and all Norse Mythology.

Does it really matter if 'Jesus' physically existed or not? Maybe people on both sides are too hung up on this point. Could it just be metaphor for the journey of human experience? The death of a way suffering (crucifixion) to be reborn in a way of freedom (resurrection). A crown of thorns would give one a headache, torturing oneself on a chosen cross whilst one's feet are separated form the ground, beating each other up and imprisoning ourselves. How would life be if one chose something beyond this? Maybe there are those that might say that if Jesus is not real, then 'his' message can't be either - so lets find evidence for his non-existence. Others might say that Jesus is real but only so that they can spend time arguing about this, and thus forget the essence of the message. Suffering or liberation - each can choose. Find it through the bible and church or another way, does it matter? Was Jesus 'real?' Maybe that's not so relevant - some''l say yes, some'll say no. Each to their own

 

[Deleted member 77198]

Does it really matter if 'Jesus' physically existed or not? Maybe people on both sides are too hung up on this point. Could it just be metaphor for the journey of human experience? The death of a way suffering (crucifixion) to be reborn in a way of freedom (resurrection). A crown of thorns would give one a headache, torturing oneself on a chosen cross whilst one's feet are separated form the ground, beating each other up and imprisoning ourselves. How would life be if one chose something beyond this? Maybe there are those that might say that if Jesus is not real, then 'his' message can't be either - so lets find evidence for his non-existence. Others might say that Jesus is real but only so that they can spend time arguing about this, and thus forget the essence of the message. Suffering or liberation - each can choose. Find it through the bible and church or another way, does it matter? Was Jesus 'real?' Maybe that's not so relevant - some''l say yes, some'll say no. Each to their own

The death and resurrection and the chronological stories about him (and the dozens just like him from many different religions before Christianity existed) are all a personification or personified stories about the Sun, the stars, the constellations, the seasons, and the eras of man/the Earth.

It is indeed the journey of human experience. How the Earth and the Sun provide life, food, growth, and then how the seasons change and they all die. Only to be resurrected again as the new seasons come around again each year.

 

[arfurclue]

The death and resurrection and the chronological stories about him (and the dozens just like him from many different religions before Christianity existed) are all a personification or personified stories about the Sun, the stars, the constellations, the seasons, and the eras of man/the Earth.

It is indeed the journey of human experience. How the Earth and the Sun provide life, food, growth, and then how the seasons change and they all die. Only to be resurrected again as the new seasons come around again each year.

I'd agree that this is one way of looking at it but that there may be others too - like it is a pattern in all of life on differing levels.

The following comes from a blog on/with David Bohm. Not to say it is 'right' but another way of looking at things.

"Someday, science and art will merge, Bohm predicted. “This division of art and science is temporary,” he observed. “It didn't exist in the past, and there’s no reason why it should go on in the future.” Just as art consists not simply of works of art but of an “attitude, the artistic spirit,” so does science consist not in the accumulation of knowledge but in the creation of fresh modes of perception. “The ability to perceive or think differently is more important than the knowledge gained,” Bohm explained.”"

For me, this might suggest that can be a way of looking at a question that is about choosing art OR science to find an answer (so they may be separate and in conflict) but there can be a way of looking at the same question, whilst choosing art AND science. May find different answers this way. The story of death and rebirth might then be an evolution of thought - science and art, together, apart, together, apart but moving into deeper union.

From the same blog is this - which I borrowed and placed in a different context.

“Bohm feared that belief in a final theory might become self-fulfilling. “If you have fish in a tank and you put a glass barrier in there, the fish keep away from it,” he noted. “And then if you take away the glass barrier they never cross the barrier and they think the whole world is that.” He chuckled drily. “So your thought that this is the end could be the barrier to looking further.”

So I question whether it is possible that the glass barrier could be a divide between science and art. If educated in a way of science, you could be left alone and never venture into art. If educated in art, one might never venture into science. Almost self-policing. But as this divide falls away (between the scientific and artistic parts of the mind?) we will see things differently, new creative answers could emerge. But this may evolve in stages - one model might 'die,' that another may be 'born.'

https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/cross-check/david-bohm-quantum-mechanics-and-enlightenment/

 

[Banned Tosspot]

God is just Dog backwards.

 

[mancity2012_eamo]

God is just Dog backwards.

Profound.

 

[m7mcfc]

Any friend of Mr Benn is a friend of mine. And you're lucky, growing up in a Catholic house I was sent every fucking week until I was 12 and refused to go.. that was a fun time. Getting hassle at school and worse my mum..priest sent to the house to tell me why I needed to go to confession. After he gave me a long bullshit reason why I should, I asked him.

Does God know when I'm good.

Yes he does.

Does he know when I'm bad.

Yes.

Does he know when I'm sorry for what I've done.

Yes.

Then why do I have to tell you.

Mum wasn't pleased, to say the least. Never went back.

Same as myself I got sick of grabbing a mass sheet and having a look at what colour robes the priest had on. (Proof I had been when questioned later)
As soon as I left primary school and started secondary school I never went again really.

 

[Magicpole]

Same as myself I got sick of grabbing a mass sheet and having a look at what colour robes the priest had on. (Proof I had been when questioned later)
As soon as I left primary school and started secondary school I never went again really.

When I and friends started to give it a miss, we had to find out who said Mass for the post mass mother interrogation. She could have ran the fucking Gestapo.

Our parish priest, Father Toye, he would go on and on for ages. Lovely old guy, but by fuck talk about monotoned boredom?

One Sunday, my mum was getting suspicious, so she upped the ante.

Mum: Who said Mass?

Me: Father Toye... She already knew obviously.

I was just about to go back out when she threw me a curved ball.

Mum: What was his sermon about?

Without missing a beat

Me: Mum, it was Father Toye, nobody knows what he's on about.

Mum: had a wee think. Yes, ok.

Me: can I go out now? ..

She was a diehard. Right up until she died she tried to get me to go back.

All my Catholic pals mums were equally fucking tonto and would grass you up in a second. All my proddy pals never went to church, the lucky bastards. :)

 

[Adidas Sharston]

God is just Dog backwards.

Woof..

 

[mancity2012_eamo]

When I and friends started to give it a miss, we had to find out who said Mass for the post mass mother interrogation. She could have ran the fucking Gestapo.

Our parish priest, Father Toye, he would go on and on for ages. Lovely old guy, but by fuck talk about monotoned boredom?

One Sunday, my mum was getting suspicious, so she upped the ante.

Mum: Who said Mass?

Me: Father Toye... She already knew obviously.

I was just about to go back out when she threw me a curved ball.

Mum: What was his sermon about?

Without missing a beat

Me: Mum, it was Father Toye, nobody knows what he's on about.

Mum: had a wee think. Yes, ok.

Me: can I go out now? ..

She was a diehard. Right up until she died she tried to get me to go back.

All my Catholic pals mums were equally fucking tonto and would grass you up in a second. All my proddy pals never went to church, the lucky bastards. :)

70's ?
Glasgow sounds pretty much like Dublin.
50 years ago now, I know but the the difference for today's generation. Our kids don't know or care how we cleared the way for them.

 

[m7mcfc]

When I and friends started to give it a miss, we had to find out who said Mass for the post mass mother interrogation. She could have ran the fucking Gestapo.

Our parish priest, Father Toye, he would go on and on for ages. Lovely old guy, but by fuck talk about monotoned boredom?

One Sunday, my mum was getting suspicious, so she upped the ante.

Mum: Who said Mass?

Me: Father Toye... She already knew obviously.

I was just about to go back out when she threw me a curved ball.

Mum: What was his sermon about?

Without missing a beat

Me: Mum, it was Father Toye, nobody knows what he's on about.

Mum: had a wee think. Yes, ok.

Me: can I go out now? ..

She was a diehard. Right up until she died she tried to get me to go back.

All my Catholic pals mums were equally fucking tonto and would grass you up in a second. All my proddy pals never went to church, the lucky bastards. :)

Exactly the same for me fella. What colour robes even the sash had to be described to a tee for the inevitable interrogation when I got home.