#religion
“The great end in religious instruction is not to stamp our minds upon the young, but to stir up their own;
Not to make them see with our eyes, but to look inquiringly and steadily with their own;
Not to give them a definite amount of knowledge, but to inspire a fervent love of truth;
Not to form an outward regularity, but to touch inward springs;
Not to bind them by ineradicable prejudices to our particular sect or peculiar notions,
But to prepare them for impartial, conscientious judging of whatever subjects may be offered to their decision;
Not to burden the memory, but to quicken and strengthen the power of thought;
Not to impose religion upon them in the form of arbitrary rules, but to awaken the conscience, the moral discernment.
In a word, the great end is to awaken the soul, to bring understanding, conscience and heart into earnest vigorous action on religious and moral truth, to excite and cherish spiritual life."
~William Ellery Channing
Some Shi’i art I’ve done over the past couple of months:
1. “Majlis”
2. “The Lamb”
3. “Abbas and the Euphrates”
4. “Zainab, in the Garden of Ibrahim, in the Furnace of Namrood”
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“God, it’s brutal, marriage, just brutal. That’s why I won’t have anything to do with it. Like religion-all that cruelty in the name of kindness.”
**
“Tanrım, çok acımasız. Evlilik çok acımasız. Bu yüzden hiç bulaşmıyorum. Tıpkı din gibi, iyilik adına bir sürü zalimlik yapılıyor.”
- 360 (2011)
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So. Much. Creepy.
Women who had been named a doctor of the Church:
- Thérèse of Lisieux
- Hildegard of Bingen
- Teresa of Ávila
- Catherine of Siena
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Why do we let ideas divide us
when this rock can sustain us no longer
let there be blood and
God is just a lonely idea
that has worn away to dust
as it should have been
once long ago
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a wonderful pre-plague memory which I just recalled because I used the same justification again, while talking with my dumbass right-leaning holier than thou coworkers:
was forced to talk with a horribly passive aggressive catholic family of a friend as I was helping her move out. you know the type – not outright hostile, but always making snide remarks under the pretence of polite conversation or curiosity.
I was waiting for her and they were watching TV, and some nonsense came up about the youth’s access to media which can “corrupt them”. you know, help them realise other sexualities exist and all that modern horror.
“it all starts somewhere, yes” the woman said, her aunt I think, “they are born normal but then they look at certain things too much and their brains get skewed”
they all, of course, knew that my friend wasn’t straight. reason for her moving out, after all. but I think that because of the fact that I wasn’t saying anything and compared to my friend looked rather… traditional, they assumed I must be, you know, “normal”.
“when we were kids, we spent time outside or in a church, and everyone was normal. but I do guess it has to start somewhere, especially with all that internet”
a side eye look at me, of course, to see if I agree. and I just sighed, like old people do, and replied:
“it all does start somewhere. I remember what turned megay.”
a silence, nervous sound of stirring well-stirred cold tea. but, well, point to them, I still did agree with their idea, no? on the wrong side of the barricade but I still did agree that I was turned gay by something. probably some filthy perverted movie on late night TV.
they wait. they really did wait for me to go on.
so I just sighed again, heartbroken over the fact that I was turned gay against my will. a girl from a good home!
and I explained that my unholy condition was born out of one thing and one thing only: long hours of deep contemplation of the unbelievably beautiful – and numerous – statues of the Virgin Mary in our local church.
oh how quiet it got. how peaceful.
they changed the channel immediately and became wildly invested in whatever was happening on the screen. the well-stirred tea won another extra stir.
and then: “god bless!” we cheerfully bid them farewell.
I use it each and every time this subject pops up now. makes for great conversation or very pleasant silence.
This made me fucking choke
