u/Magpyecrystall

Å finne er god frisør kan være vanskelig. Når man endelig finner en som passer godt, så er man liksom i boks for en stund med klippen.

Men en dag, etter mange klipp med hyggelig småprat kommer hundefløyta fram. Vi er på Sørlandet, og her er det to helt ulike folkegrupper som bor, side om side. Nå ville frisøren min finne ut hvilken gruppe jeg tilhører:

”Kå du syns om alle disse greiene då, alt som skjer?”

Jeg vet hvor han vil. Lufta står stille. De andre i rommet blir tause. De vil vite om akkurat denne kunden er for, eller imot ”disse greiene”.

”Tenker du på krigen i Ukraina?” svarer jeg, som om jeg er helt på bærtur. ”Jeg tror ikke Putin kommer til å gi seg før Russland ligger i ruiner”.

”Nei nei, ikke Ukraina, disse andre greiene som skjer” avbryter frisøren. ”Åh, du mener Gaza? Ja, det ligner mer og mer på regelrett etnisk rensing”. Nå går det et gisp gjennom rommet. Både kunder og øvrige frisører vrir seg i mental spagat, mens de prøver å virke uanfektet. Kunden skal liksom alltid har rett, men…å snakke sånn om Det Hellige Land..?!

Det er omtrent nå jeg skjønner at dette er min siste klipp her. Nå starter jakten på en ny frisør, for her blir det for kleint å komme tilbake.

”Tenker du på hvor dyrt alt har blitt?” Jeg vet så godt hvor han vil, men jeg leker litt katt og mus for å presse han til å utlevere sine meninger. Hundefløyta virker ikke på meg.

Her kommer det: ”Nei, jeg tenker alle disse greiene med Pride og alt det derre”

Det er altså ikke krig, urett og lidelse i verden som opptar kristenheten på Sørlandet. Det er hvem enkelte ungdom føler seg tiltrukket av.  

Jeg er selv far til en tenåring med kjønnsinkongruens. Jeg kjenner fortvilelsen på kroppen, og ser hver eneste dag hvordan denne tenåringen kjemper for å finne sin vei, mens ”alle” har sine meninger. Folk er veldig engasjert i andres identitet, og her på Sørlandet blir det ampert. ”Tenk å frivillig velge bort det kjønnet Herren har gitt deg”. Det er få som har noe begrep om hva det handler om. De tror enkelte ungdom ønsker å synde mot skaperen. De tror det er en ”greie” på sosiale medier hvor de unge blir fanget av en ide om kjønn.

Alt dette betyr at tenåringer som kjemper hardt for å finne sin plass i et samfunn bygget nesten utelukkende på binære ordninger, må kjempe på to fronter samtidig. Disse som tviholder på en urgammel ideologi fra Midtøsten, lager mye støy hvert år, opp mot Pride Month. De holder store konferanser i kirkene, skriver sinte innlegg i aviser, poster ondskapsfulle budskap på nett og de prøver å rekruttere kunder til sin kampsak, for eksempel hos frisøren. "I dag vil jeg være en brødrister"

Min sluttkommentar, før jeg reiser meg, betaler og går du: ”Jeg synes det er en tragedie at Sørlandet ligger øverst i statistikken over depresjon, selvskading og selvmord for ungdom i LGBT+ gruppene”.

Nå blir det helt stille. De andre frisørene slutter å klippe. Du kan nesten høre de siste hårstrå lande på gulvet. Pipingen fra meg som trykker koden for å betale blir som en avsluttende melodi på hele episoden. Der var et argument de ikke hadde blitt fortalt på konferansene sine.

I USA jobbes det hardt for å fjerne medmenneskelighet fra kristendommen. ”Empathy is a sin” heter det i mange kirker nå. Tanker som dette har blitt utviklet i et forsøk på å gjøre den empatiløse presidenten mer spiselig for evangelikalske velgere. Mange menigheter på Sørlandet lar seg inspirere av det som skjer der borte.

Mens jeg, jeg må finne meg en ny frisør, igjen.

Could you watch it without noticing parallels to Biblical themes and stories?

Homer's epics are among the oldest surviving masterpieces of Greek literature and are roughly contemporary with the earliest layers of the Hebrew Bible. In terms of the traditions behind the stories, some Old Testament traditions may preserve material that is older than Homer, while others are clearly later.

Both Homer and parts of the Old Testament inherited even older traditions from the ancient Near East: The flood story in Genesis has clear parallels with the much older Epic of Gilgamesh, whose surviving versions date to around the second millennium BCE.

Creation themes in Genesis can also be compared with the Enuma Elish, which is older than either Homer or the biblical text in its written form.

The New Testament was written in Greek, and the writers would have been educated, not only in language, but also philosophy, rhetoric and Greek mythology, which means they certainly would have been well acquainted with the works of Homer. There are archaeological findings in today’s Israel, proving that Greek literary traditions were in circulation in Palestine during the time in question.

The strongest similarities between Homer’s works and the gospels are the motifs of the hidden hero, delayed recognition, transformative journeys, tests of loyalty, symbolic meals, and the movement from suffering to vindication. These parallels make for a fascinating literary comparison even while the two works ultimately present very different visions of what it means to be a hero and what constitutes the highest good.

There are ongoing debates over whether the similarities prove Homer’s influence on the stories of Jesus, or whether they both individually reflect common themes and traditions of the time and region.

Interesting stuff, IMO.
What do you think?

The Christian doctrine of salvation appears to present a trilemma: either the unevangelised can be saved without hearing the gospel, salvation depends on moral accountability apart from explicit faith, or countless people are eternally condemned through no fault of their own. Each option seems to create tension with core Christian teachings.

Jesus gave his followers a clear command: "Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature."

Yet history tells us that countless millions of people lived and died before the coming of Christ, or even before Judaism existed. Many others have lived in places where they never had the opportunity to hear the gospel.

This raises a fundamental theological question:

What becomes of those who never heard the gospel?

There seem to be three broad possibilities:

1.      They receive special mercy and are saved despite never hearing the gospel.

2.      They are judged according to the light they were given and the moral choices they made.

3.      They are condemned because salvation requires explicit faith in Christ, as Scripture says: "If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved."

Each option appears to create some theological tension.

·         If the first is true, then preaching the gospel seems to place people at risk. Someone who never hears the gospel might receive mercy, whereas someone who hears it and rejects it could be condemned. Why, then, would Jesus command his followers to evangelise the world?

·         If the second is true, then Jesus' statement, "No one comes to the Father except through me," appears to require qualification. If people can be saved without explicit knowledge of Christ, in what sense is He the exclusive way to the Father?

·         If the third is true, then it is difficult to reconcile eternal condemnation for those who never had any opportunity to hear the gospel with the belief that God is perfectly loving and just.

This presents what appears to be a genuine theological dilemma: how can the biblical commands to evangelise, the exclusivity of Christ, God's justice, and God's love all be affirmed simultaneously?

 

"Where is my faith? Even deep down [...] there is nothing but emptiness and darkness. [...] if there be God - please forgive me. When I try to raise my thoughts to Heaven, there is so much convicting emptiness that those very thoughts return like sharp knives and hurt my very soul"

From Mother Theresa's diary. The shining beacon of faith, self-sacrifice and kindness had doubt in her heart. Historians tell us these thought were not just a phase for her. She had them throughout her practising life.

We now know of several dark corners in her legacy, that can be looked up in any archive of knowlege.

What I'm interested in is the "flawless exterior / dark interior" phenomenon. It appears to be common enough to have a term: Spiritual Drought". As it happens, many saints and highly revered personalities in the catholic corridors have battled with spiritual drought.

We don't know what's going on in the hearts of those barking loudly from the pulpit. But every now and then, a preacher "comes clean" and tells their story publicly.

A common theme is how they have acted as performers, without conviction or personal investment. In most lines of work, if we run dry, we can move on, change career or switch position. For holy men and women, this is not so simple. Many of them have little or no real work experience. They know how to work a crowd. They know how to act calm, reassuring and confident - not very useful in "the real word"

There are lists of famous priests and preachers who left/lost faith, and they all have stories. A simple search for words like "ex-pastor" on YT will take us to some heart wrenching testimonies.

We could use all readily available testimonies, and some modern technology, to find the most common denominators among priests and preachers who left their post:

Many describe doubts that accumulated over years rather than appearing suddenly. Common topics include the problem of suffering, biblical interpretation, miracles, and the existence of God.

Interestingly, many were highly educated in theology or biblical studies. Some say that studying the historical development of scripture or competing theological traditions challenged beliefs they had previously taken for granted.

Experiences with hypocrisy, abuse, power struggles, or corruption often weakened trust in the institution.

Some distinguish between losing faith in a church and losing faith in God, while others say one led to the other.

Exposure to philosophy, history, psychology, or science sometimes shifted how they evaluated religious claims.

They increasingly favored naturalistic explanations over supernatural ones.

Serious illness, loss of loved ones, unanswered prayers, or witnessing profound injustice led some to question beliefs about God's goodness or intervention.

For every well-known priest or preacher who loses faith, there are many who experience serious doubts yet remain in service, or even as believers. Research on clergy suggests that doubt is common and does not necessarily lead to deconversion.

So there's that

Of all the wonders of this blue planet and the vast cosmos beyond; of all the facets of this precious life—the breathtaking beauty of nature, the countless creatures and plants that share our world, the immaculate night sky; of time, matter, and energy; of the human experience, of friendship, love, compassion, and parenthood—

We chose the invisible, the unknowable.

We chose to follow an elusive deity of uncertain character and questionable legacy, whose intentions remain obscure, and of whom we possess only ancient fragments—texts written in an age steeped in ignorance, superstition, and limited understanding.

This distant being, seemingly indifferent to human suffering and despair, demands that we turn away from logic, reason, moral contradictions, and factual inconsistencies. We are asked not to question, but to submit; not to seek understanding, but to offer unquestioning devotion and praise.

In return, we are promised perfection beyond death: a painless existence in a realm untouched by the laws of nature, where we may be separated from those we love, knowing they endure eternal torment while we are expected to rejoice in everlasting bliss.

No. I choose truth, justice, and morality.

I choose to examine extraordinary claims with rigor and honesty, and to reject them when they fail that examination. I refuse to let blind faith—in any god—serve as my guiding star.

And if eternal damnation were real, and those I love were deemed unworthy of Heaven, I would not abandon them for paradise. I would stand with them, in solidarity, whatever the cost.

Amen

During the first temple period the doctrine of Yahwism was very tightly bound to the land of Judah and especially to Jerusalem and Solomon’s temple.

After the Babylonian conquest (597 - 587 BCE) and destruction of the city and temple, the Babylonians captured and marched away with a large portion of the people. Mostly high status citizens where taken in captivity to Babylon.

In Ezekiel 1 and 10, the prophet describes Yahweh's departing Jerusalem on a mobile chariot-throne. Ezekiel receives his prophetic call in Babylon, meaning Yahweh's presence was understood to be there. Yahweh was not stuck in the ruined temple.

Isaiah (40–55) addresses the Babylonian deportees directly as Yahweh's people, implying continuous relationship between Yahweh and the exiles throughout captivity.

The Babylonians practiced selective deportation, they took the elite: priests, scribes, craftsmen, royalty, and administrators (2 Kings 24:14). The rural poor were largely left behind. The stay-behinds continued to worship Yahweh, likely at local shrines and high places. From their perspective, Yahweh hadn't gone anywhere.

It is fair to say that the dominant and innovative strand of Yahwism traveled to Babylon with the elites. The Babylonian captives claimed Yahweh's presence, produced the literature that shaped later Judaism, and returned with a significantly transformed religion. The "Babylon group" essentially won the battle over who got to define orthodoxy.

The exile period is also largely the pivotal point in the transformation of Yahweh from a territorial deity to a monotheistic global God.

The destruction of Jerusalem in 586 BCE created an acute problem: if Yahweh was tied to the land and the temple, then how could this happen? Had Yahweh lost, or didn't he even exist? The captured thinkers essentially refused both explanations and had to radically rethink the theology.

The solutions they developed were revolutionary: Yahweh chose to leave, thereby executing a deliberate withdrawal as judgment on Israel's unfaithfulness. This reframed the catastrophe as a divine plan. Secondly, Yahweh controls world empires. Yahweh used Babylon as an instrument, and later calls the Persian king Cyrus Yahweh's "the anointed one". A territorial deity doesn't direct foreign empires, a universal one does.

All this is known as “the portable God argument”

Alstola, "Everyday Life in Exile: Judean Deportees in Babylonian Texts", The Ancient Near East Today : Current News about the Ancient Past, vol. 10, no. 6, 2022

Rainer Albertz, Bob Becking, "Yahwism after the Exile" (Van Gorcum, 2003)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylonian_captivity#Exilic_literature

 

Nodet, Étienne, "A search for the origins of Judaism: from Joshua to the Mishnah" (Sheffield Academic Press, 1999, original edition Editions du Cerf, 1997)

 

Word is recommending I change *very* to *much* in the following sentence: "I was very much tied up to"

I feel like I was on my way to a French restaurant, but someone said: Hey, why don't we just go to McDonald's?