The starting point...
You will have to forgive me, and in particular the fairly anonymous "Chad" who started the blog called atheism and humanism , for me even thinking about this.
As I have said in the header, this is as much about me "finding myself" as anything. It concentrates on "religion", and my total lack of it.
What I do not want to have happen is for anyone reading these pages coming away thinking that I am trying to make them think in the way that I believe.
That perhaps is the place to start. My first precept.
Note - errors of fact, omission and commission are fair game. I am always ready to learn.
Any comment that passes from "correction" to proselytising, from truth to criticism, will be harshly dealt to. I might even get personal about the author in public.
A personal message to "Chad" should he ever pass this way -
Chad, your name and post might crop up here more than you might like. If it does then it is not intended to be personal. I thank you for the idea of this blog. In some ways, yours could well be a mirror to this because already as I write I know that I can not agree with where your "Atheism and Humanism" is headed. Not at the moment anyway.
Rather than trying to begin with definitions and then seeing which might apply; rather than getting into the depths of the conscious reasoning for my present beliefs; and certainly not to try and critique any of the religions; I intend to start with myself, where I have been, and where I am now.
My father's family was Anglican. My grandparents "strict" Anglican, though I never once was aware of them attending church except on high family days - weddings, christenings and funerals.
My mother's family was Methodist. My maternal grandmother referred occasionally in letters to attending church.
So, my first recollection of "church" is not until I was about 8 years old. We were living at that time in a very remote milling village 50 odd miles on unsealed roads from anywhere - the nearest anywhere was either Wairoa on the East Coast or Rotorua. The school where my parents were teaching was right next door to the Methodist (and only local) church. The rationale behind all three of us (me, my two younger brothers) was to get us out of the house for a couple of hours on a Sunday morning and into something that might do us some good as well as being a free baby sitting service. With thirty years of marriage and two kids of my own behind me I can think of far more fundamental reasons...not for debate.
"Sunday School" was bearable. It had enough interest for the first six months until the learning of catechisms and verses from the Bible began. At that point taking, and getting lost in, the short cut through the swamp between the school and the church began to take on far greater attractions.
Flash forward two years and the family has moved from the remote inland village to "seaside resort". My parents were owners/managers of a motel and teaching part time. Sundays were spent working in one form or another except during the six months late October to late April. Over those summer months, Sunday was yachting. Down the hill from us, was a Baptist Childrens' Camp. The seniors from the camp over the Christmas New Year period would hold "open classes" for kids on the beach. It was quite a good idea in some respects. Nail the kids down there, get them involved and then mum and dad have some time to themselves. Someone, my mother I think, thought it a good idea of we spent some of our summer holidays at the week long live in course that they held. That was where I had my first experience of serious proselytising - in the form of three boys trying their best to "convert" me. My major puzzlement was "...Into what? A toad?" After two late night sessions I think that I was given up as a hopeless case obviously on a fast track to hell.
Flash forward another two or three years. From somewhere came a paperback copy of Aldous Huxley's The Perennial Philosophy. Now that did have an impact. I read it until the binding collapsed. The proposition that Huxley was threading was the commonality of principles between the major religions. That led me into totally new realms of thought, belief and ideas. If you had asked at that time what religion I followed I would probably have said "Bhuddist". Looking back I know that answer would be given solely for impact. In substance I was no more Bhuddist than Christian.
So, there we have me at the age of thirteen or fourteen; what the "missionaries" would probably call "a rudderless ship".
I was (still am when I get the chance) also a voracious reader. Anything and everything in print that came my way. Included in that bunch was the Britannica "The Great Ideas" books. Everything from the ancient Greeks who I found understandable to Freud and Jung who were unintelligible.
Out of that melange was the formative stages of where I am now. Foremost in my mind the principles of honesty, virtue, and selflessness. Score me two out of three on those. Well, make it one and two halfs if you must. It was also based upon the security of living at home, caring parents, and a lifestyle that city kids would kill for.
That was destroyed with the death of my mother when I was 16. That was the first point in the "learning curve of life" to be put in place by my father. "Be sad, it is right. Remember, that is right too. But there is a point where you have to return to your life." After one last year at school, I was dispatched to Auckland to live my own life. My 17th birthday presents were a very large suitacase, a one way bus ticket, and a loan of $20, equivalent to $200 present day.
Thus was a very naive and really quite shy person let loose on this world. I very quickly learned that honesty, virtue and selflessness does not get you very far unless mixed with equal amounts of cynicism and reality. Learning that took me perhaps another two years.
As I have said in the header, this is as much about me "finding myself" as anything. It concentrates on "religion", and my total lack of it.
What I do not want to have happen is for anyone reading these pages coming away thinking that I am trying to make them think in the way that I believe.
That perhaps is the place to start. My first precept.
This is a totally personal statement.
It is a voyage of self-exploration.
It has no validity outside of MY brain.
It is absolutely NOT debateable.
Note - errors of fact, omission and commission are fair game. I am always ready to learn.
Any comment that passes from "correction" to proselytising, from truth to criticism, will be harshly dealt to. I might even get personal about the author in public.
A personal message to "Chad" should he ever pass this way -
Chad, your name and post might crop up here more than you might like. If it does then it is not intended to be personal. I thank you for the idea of this blog. In some ways, yours could well be a mirror to this because already as I write I know that I can not agree with where your "Atheism and Humanism" is headed. Not at the moment anyway.
Rather than trying to begin with definitions and then seeing which might apply; rather than getting into the depths of the conscious reasoning for my present beliefs; and certainly not to try and critique any of the religions; I intend to start with myself, where I have been, and where I am now.
My father's family was Anglican. My grandparents "strict" Anglican, though I never once was aware of them attending church except on high family days - weddings, christenings and funerals.
My mother's family was Methodist. My maternal grandmother referred occasionally in letters to attending church.
So, my first recollection of "church" is not until I was about 8 years old. We were living at that time in a very remote milling village 50 odd miles on unsealed roads from anywhere - the nearest anywhere was either Wairoa on the East Coast or Rotorua. The school where my parents were teaching was right next door to the Methodist (and only local) church. The rationale behind all three of us (me, my two younger brothers) was to get us out of the house for a couple of hours on a Sunday morning and into something that might do us some good as well as being a free baby sitting service. With thirty years of marriage and two kids of my own behind me I can think of far more fundamental reasons...not for debate.
"Sunday School" was bearable. It had enough interest for the first six months until the learning of catechisms and verses from the Bible began. At that point taking, and getting lost in, the short cut through the swamp between the school and the church began to take on far greater attractions.
Flash forward two years and the family has moved from the remote inland village to "seaside resort". My parents were owners/managers of a motel and teaching part time. Sundays were spent working in one form or another except during the six months late October to late April. Over those summer months, Sunday was yachting. Down the hill from us, was a Baptist Childrens' Camp. The seniors from the camp over the Christmas New Year period would hold "open classes" for kids on the beach. It was quite a good idea in some respects. Nail the kids down there, get them involved and then mum and dad have some time to themselves. Someone, my mother I think, thought it a good idea of we spent some of our summer holidays at the week long live in course that they held. That was where I had my first experience of serious proselytising - in the form of three boys trying their best to "convert" me. My major puzzlement was "...Into what? A toad?" After two late night sessions I think that I was given up as a hopeless case obviously on a fast track to hell.
Flash forward another two or three years. From somewhere came a paperback copy of Aldous Huxley's The Perennial Philosophy. Now that did have an impact. I read it until the binding collapsed. The proposition that Huxley was threading was the commonality of principles between the major religions. That led me into totally new realms of thought, belief and ideas. If you had asked at that time what religion I followed I would probably have said "Bhuddist". Looking back I know that answer would be given solely for impact. In substance I was no more Bhuddist than Christian.
So, there we have me at the age of thirteen or fourteen; what the "missionaries" would probably call "a rudderless ship".
I was (still am when I get the chance) also a voracious reader. Anything and everything in print that came my way. Included in that bunch was the Britannica "The Great Ideas" books. Everything from the ancient Greeks who I found understandable to Freud and Jung who were unintelligible.
Out of that melange was the formative stages of where I am now. Foremost in my mind the principles of honesty, virtue, and selflessness. Score me two out of three on those. Well, make it one and two halfs if you must. It was also based upon the security of living at home, caring parents, and a lifestyle that city kids would kill for.
That was destroyed with the death of my mother when I was 16. That was the first point in the "learning curve of life" to be put in place by my father. "Be sad, it is right. Remember, that is right too. But there is a point where you have to return to your life." After one last year at school, I was dispatched to Auckland to live my own life. My 17th birthday presents were a very large suitacase, a one way bus ticket, and a loan of $20, equivalent to $200 present day.
Thus was a very naive and really quite shy person let loose on this world. I very quickly learned that honesty, virtue and selflessness does not get you very far unless mixed with equal amounts of cynicism and reality. Learning that took me perhaps another two years.
posted by The probligo at 11:22 AM
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