How diverse is your circle of friends? Are you surrounded by people of one belief system? Do you ever avoid getting to know people with vastly different opinions and convictions—even without consciously doing so? Why or why not?
I don’t understand why someone would choose to discount an entire group of people because of their belief or non-belief in deities. Unfortunately, I see this happening on both sides of the theism debate.
Read the Rest! Post a comment (51)After my family stopped attending Catholic mass regularly and started frequenting a Presbyterian church, I discovered the absolute delight of “Communion Sundays,” which were only once a month. I loved the tiny little plastic cups passed around in fitted brass plates. After sipping up the grape juice, I would do the classy and mature thing by sticking my tongue into the cup to get every last drop from the bottom. I’d suction it onto my tongue, waggle it around, and make silly faces at my friends until an adult noticed and I had to busy myself with the bulletin or something.
My favorite part of Communion Sunday was the bread. I loved that bread. I sometimes called it “3-D Jesus” because it was in a small cubed form instead of the flat, bland wafers we used to dissolve on our tongues at mass. No crackers or matzo here, just soft cubes of a dead guy.
The best thing about this bread was its taste: it was sweet like buttered honey and it fairly melted into your teeth like a soft candy. Jesus tasted damn good. I once tried to take more bread from the passing plate, but I felt ashamed that someone might see, so I contented myself with just one tiny square of Jesus.
Now that it’s not even symbolically holy and I still remember the scrumptious taste of that bread on my tongue, I very much want to eat it again—but in mach larger quantities. Did they buy it or bake it? Is this a common communion food among protestant churches? I’ve googled “sweet communion bread recipe” and not come up with anything particularly enticing.
If you’re out there, Jesusbread baker, can you give me your recipe? I want some with a little honey on top. Like, now. I’m starving.
I like it on a hook.
If you’ve been on facebook lately and seen ladies post status messages like “I like it on the floor” or, “I like it on the chair,” they aren’t talking about sex (and aren’t you glad my “hook” wasn’t about doing the nasty?). The statement describes where you keep your purse, but the purpose is to raise awareness about breast cancer during National Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
Yeah, I rolled my eyes too. I’m not a fan. But why would a woman dislike a viral campaign that promotes a good message? In short:
- How is a suggestive statement about where you place your purse supposed to raise awareness about a deadly disease? I don’t think it does—even if people are buzzing about it.
- One in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetimes. How will this meme do anything to influence what steps women take to protect themselves from further risk?
- My father died from breast cancer. Men get it too, even though it much more rare. All the pink, purses, and focus on women doesn’t help my own grief. It may be selfish, but it’s honest. Don’t forget the men.
We’re all allowed to change our minds. I’m not sure if this is a credit to my character or a blight on it, but I’ve changed my mind about many varying topics over the past—sometimes from one extreme to another. A lot of these changes happened because I went off to college and was finally out from under my parents’ influence. Having to find your own way and discover how you feel about certain ideas sometimes inspires radical shifts. I was a perfect example.
Another reason I’ve been moving from one side of a debate to another is my radical switch from Christianity to atheism. When I was a believer, I always knew what to do and what to believe in because it was an established system in my religion, my family, and my community. Atheism flung me outside all of those groups quite suddenly, and I had to do even more thinking on my own. With no one to tell me what to believe, and not much practice being a truly critical thinker, I had a lot of catching up to do! In fact, I know I’m still not done reconsidering my positions. Perhaps I never will be.
I came up with four examples of how I’ve shifted my opinions in the past five years.
1) Masturbation
Then: A few years ago after wobbling between “masturbation is a sin” and “if it’s awesome, why not?” I settled on the view that masturbation was okay so long as you didn’t lust. This is a popular position in some Christian circles because it allows the person the physical release, but it keeps people from sinning according to Jesus “Thought Police™” Christ (see Matthew 5:28).
Now: My new guiltless sexuality and self-confidence are mainly a direct result of leaving Christianity. Now I’m not ashamed of my actions nor filled with self-loathing about being a sexual person. I can embrace healthy expressions of this side of my nature; I can be mature and wise about it instead of secretive and ignorant. The human body is an amazing thing, and we should enjoy it!
Check out my previous post on masturbation.
Click below the cut for three more…
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