juantoo3 said:
Kindest Regards, Kathe!
I am a little pressed for time, so I will respond to a bit and come back later. I re-read thru a few pages last night, refreshing my mind.
If I begin with the presumption that all Christians have a basic code of conduct (the 10 plus the two), still I see all too often those who skirt the code, looking for loopholes as it were. "Just stick a couple of bucks in the offering plate and ask a prayer of forgiveness." I can see how this presents a contrary image to others. It never sat quite right with me. I cannot claim to be loving of my neighbor if I am acting hateful towards him. So I think I understand the basic idea you are presenting.
ah, you've hit on something important here, imo.
As soon as there are "do this, don't do that" rules, people, being people, will start playing those games with the rules. I'm sure you are familiar with this kind of thing: "Ah, but when it says Thou shalt not kill, does that apply in *this* situation....what if thus and so.....but what about"....blah blah blah.
It's just human to do this.
I think that the rules of behavior that we follow most consistantly are those we establish for ourselves, as a result of dealing with the consequences of our actions.
And that's the beauty of the Rede, as far as I'm concerned.
There are no specific rules about harmful behavior against which to rebel or with which to find exception.
You have to decide for yourself, and deal with the results.
Of course, if you want advice, you'll always get it if you ask; about what the Rede means, about what "harmful" is, etc. But ultimately you and you alone must choose in your own life to do or not do harmful things, and live with what your actions bring into being.
IOW, There's no Divine punishment for doing harmful things, and no Divine reward for doing good.
What there *is* is the lesson of consequences.
Yet, when viewed correctly, there is truth in the saying "Christians aren't perfect, just forgiven." The catch is, do we (Christians) continue in our imperfection, or learn our lesson and carry on with a sincere attempt to avoid those mistakes in the future? This seems to me a subtle but significant point of disagreement among various denominations.
To be honest, I've never "gotten' that whole forgiveness thing you talk about here. If I harm someone, I need to make it right with them, personally. Or I need to decide that I'll live with what I've done (looking it straight in the eye) without making it right.
Who I need forgiveness from is whom I've harmed, not anyone else. And I quite probably need to make reparations so I can look myself in the mirror without flinching.
Even with this in mind though, I am thinking it is difficult to justify heinous acts. How does one "ask forgiveness" for genocide? Yet, it seems historically apparent that it can happen.
I am hesitiating, but I think one place this shows well is in war. To be clear, I do not view all war as genocidal. I suppose, hypothetically, genocide could be carried out without war (through a legal system, for example), but I am inclined to think the nature of genocide is at root a form of war. In other words, genocide equals war, but war does not equal genocide, if that makes sense.
I just don't know. I don't know how you can ask forgiveness for something as heinous as genocide, from the people whom you've essentially tried to wipe out. And asking forgiveness from anyone else would be useless, I think. I don't even know how one could make reparation, which would be a requirement in my ethical system.
One other thought, before I go back to, uh, page 11, I think, of this topic:
There a thing I've seen over and over again, and it always makes me shake my head in perplexity. Someone (I'll assign names to make this easier to follow), oh, Danny.
Danny does something intentionally and avoidably harmful to someone else (er, his best friend Jim). When Jim confronts Danny with his action(s), Danny goes into a big thing in which he declares himself to be horrible and awful and sinful and so on. He goes on with this until the focus becomes *his feelings* rather than the harmful action he did. And Jim winds up forgiving Danny and, fergoshsakes,
comforting[//i] him.
This is a sublime form of egoism. It's also a subtle way to avoid dealing as an adult with what one has done.
It makes me question our ability to look what we do straight on, ever.