shades of interpretation

[Ah, damn, I am so freaking tired. The cells-turning-into-baby are sucking up a lot of energy, yet aren’t so thrilled with the concept of letting me regain that energy through eating. So, of course, I sleep, but then question the whole cyclical thing about sleeping so much that you only get more tired…so I sleep on it some more…]

As a result of my near-exhaustion, my computer time is limited to skimming my blogs of choice and, to get my blood pressure back up, that includes Alas, a blog.

Recently, one of the contributors blogged about a letter written by a woman who advocated a subservient lifestyle for women and based it soley on her interpretation of bible passages. While I will not get into the content of the letter, nor the further nausea that was induced by reading it [see Alas, a blog and the links therein for some thought provoking stuff], some of the comments that came up got me thinking.

One reader noted “…this is why I am no longer a Christian”, while another rebutted, providing quotes from Pope JPII suggestive of equality. And, of course, many more thoughts ensued.

All this on-line chatter lead, on my part, to a little introspection. [what else can one do between naps?] I was raised in a Christian household and spent a few years attending a small-town Baptist church full of old, stodgy types in the congregation, and headed by young, well-meaning, exuberant and therefore ill-received and soon replaced, pastors. Even by the time I was 9, I was questioning perceived inconsistencies within some of the teachings, never mind what I viewed as the grander inconsistency of a Christian faith broken up into so many adamantly different churches – some of them so much so that the kids went to entirely different schools. And at the time, as a student of the public system, I couldn’t figure out why practising a different religion meant that one learned a different math.

By grade 7, I no longer went to church. I attended church summer camp for a couple of years after that with a friend – I suspect if anyone had flat-out asked me at that point, I would have called myself Christian – but never felt it necessary to go back into a church.

Do I still call myself Christian? No. I don’t know, technically, when that stopped, although I suspect it was before I left home, or very shortly after. Do I believe in God and/or god? I can’t actually answer that and, truthfully, I am okay with that. There are too many assumptions and idiosyncrasies in everyone’s very personal definitions of God/god and I’m not about to say that ‘yes, I believe in [your] God/god(s)’. The closest I’ve ever been to defining what I feel is: agnostic with pagan leanings [tongue only barely in cheek]. Is it the whole truth? Doubt it. Can that phrase even have an accurate, single-interpretation definition? Uh, like everything, NO. Do I, myself, even have an accurate definition of that phrase for me? Not even close. But, in terms of what seems to fit well in my head at any given moment [and, yes, it changes], it’s a fair phrase to use. And I have no desire to limit whatever I may or may not choose to believe by attempting to snapshot-document my religious/spiritual beliefs.

Nor do I have any desire to write public letters with the intent to actively beat people over the head with them. [No, a rant in a personal blog is as close as it gets!]

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