satori001

dmiller, Good post. I only introduced the "yardstick" metaphor to suggest that we all use one, and it is by nature imperfect. To the degree we hold that yardstick up to life, it rules us, and therefore judges us. Yes, our yardstick is our ruler. (Awful pun warning! Damn, too late.)

Very perceptive question. Most people don't make the distinction, but even those who do have difficulty keeping actions separate from character, and I'm not sure they should. But I don't want to get ahead of myself.

Here is a man, kicked out of Vic's booty club, and he lived to tell the tale, AND to forgive Vic too! Another victory for Jesus.

I don't understand the question. I'll say this: "measurement" as I am using the term is the objective assessment of what you value (or evaluate), whether it is objective information (choosing from a list of mutual funds), or subjective (choosing from a menu). In other words, do you feel better about wearing the white blouse, or the pink, with your gray skirt? You only know subjectively what you like, but you know objectively (by the intensity of your feelings, an internal "measurement") what you prefer. Not sure if that answers the question. What this has to do with forgiveness should become clear later on.

Your past is a very long list. It includes everything you ever said, everything you ever ate or drank, ever thought, ever wanted... It includes every choice - to act or not, to risk or not, to "bless" or not, to sin or not... It contains everything that ever happened to you, good or bad, or worse, every success, every failure, every wound, every joy, every lost or wasted second, minute, hour, day, week, year, decade... The past is the vast sum and totality of your personal history - that which you know, and that much more which you don't. Ever screw up? It's in the unpublished "book" of your past. Did a thoughtlessly selfish choice ever result in another being harmed, or worse? In the book. Did you ever take a true love for granted, a child's love, a parent's love, a lover's love? In the book. Have you ever wounded, maimed or killed? How far up the food chain? Bugs? Fish? Mammals? Other human beings? Or you've just wanted to, now and then? If you judge anyone else for any of these things, you cannot help but judge yourself as well. In the court of your conscience, if one is convicted, all are convicted, including yourself. Remember the golden rule? It tells us that "duality" is no refuge. What you do unto others really is as important as what they do unto you. Do you believe it? Think about it first. Duality is two-ness. Sameness and otherness. Us and them-ness. Good and evil-ness. It is polarity, which draws us in opposing directions at once. Draw a circle. Inside that circle is everything you know, or think, or feel. Outside that circle is everything else, and for the present, it is unknowable to you. That circle is your conscious world, the totality of your thoughts. Within that circle is a mental yardstick by which you measure everything else. You only have one. Ordinary yardsticks are designed to measure in inches or feet. The metric equivalent measures in millimeters and centimeters, etc. Your mental yardstick is itself just a thought, and because it is just a thought, you can change its scale of measurement. Most of us use the good-evil scale, in its many variations: love-hate, desirable-undesirable, valuable-worthless. It's a very useful system, functional, or even indispensable, in many areas of our lives. But it cannot measure everything, and what we cannot measure, we often cannot perceive reliably, if at all. A problem arises when those "immeasurables" are important, sometimes immeasurably important. More later.

Originally posted by Research Geek: One of the loftiest, yet most essential concepts introduced by Jesus Christ, and one of the most foundational tenents of first-century Christianity is forgiveness. What is lofty about it? It a) undeniably is one of the most difficult teachings of Jesus to attain, but b)also is undeniably one of the most healing in its effects. Chapter and verse? My question to you is are you ready to try some forgiveness? What you say, shall I let them off the hook? You might be talking about absolution or reconciliation, both of which pertain to "hooks," figuratively speaking. What does forgiveness have to do with letting them "off the hook?" They are impenitent still so they do not deserve it! An aside: aren't we commanded to forgive as we have been forgiven? - which is to say, we repented first, and then received forgiveness. Is man's "forgiveness" held to a higher standard (of grace) than God's? But consider who gets the most benefits from forgiveness. Does the forgiver or the offender benefit the most? Which benefits are you referring to? Stress reduction? Stuff like that? So I ask, is anyone ready for some forgiveness? Is it not true that Job was not healed until he could bring himself to pray for his friends? Is it not true that Jesus told us to pray for our enemies and to love them. Was Jesus nuts, or did he have our best interests in mind? Consider what forgiveness may bring to you. Does anyone want to talk about this? Jesus' true meaning was changed or lost long ago. Our standard interpretation of what remains probably is nuts. Anyone who tries too hard to follow that interpretation risks becoming nuts as well. When you begin a discussion like this, shouldn't you define your terms at the outset? Just my opinion, but you'd be a little more accessible if you turned off the man 'o God rhetoric around here. Your post reads a little like sermon notes.

Abigail, I was referring to a definition of forgiveness posted earlier on this thread. If you believe there is a difference between "letting go..." and forgiveness, can you cite a better definition, or at least clarify your reasons? Few of us truly understand "forgiveness," or other common words which may be defined, but must be intuitively apprehended to be understood. You may be drawing a distinction between "letting go..." etc, and your misapprehension of the meaning of forgiveness. I think most people do. I also believe it's the most common obstacle to realizing true forgiveness. Regards...

You're asking for the ocean in a paper cup. The secret is not to drink from another's well, but to "dig" your own. And by the way, I'm the paper cup, not the ocean.

This is a form of forgiveness, isn't it? Without absolving them of guilt or responsibility, aren't you excusing their behavior as the natural outcome of their nature? Aren't you renouncing your anger and resentment? By "moving on," aren't you absolving them of further debt to you?It could be done more effectively though. By "filing" their memories under the broader "jerk" category, you aren't really renouncing your resentment, only reframing (or "objectifying") it in a less personal, therefore less painful, context. One could go further, in an even less judgmental way, "filing" them under "ignorant and hurtful people" (more definition, less condemnation), and release even more of his or her resentment, maybe most or all of it. It feels good to call them jerks, but there's a cost. It reinforces our anger, rather than releasing it - which is the ultimate benefit of forgiveness. It has nothing really to do with the "ignorant and hurtful" persons - only with ourselves. (This even applies when we must try to forgive ourselves. Cool, huh?)

See how oldiesman uses "forgiveness" as a means of laying blame elsewhere? Gotta love it.

I think people get hung up on the difference between forgive and absolve. Some who preach forgiveness, especially those who want to re-write TWI history and re-invent VPW in their idealized images, are REALLY saying "absolve." ---------------------------------- Do we absolve? ab·solve 1-To pronounce clear of guilt or blame. - NO 2-To relieve of a requirement or obligation. - NO 3-To grant a remission of sin. - NO 4-To pardon or remit (a sin). - NO ---------------------------------- Do we forgive? for·give (fr-gv, fôr-) 1-To excuse for a fault or an offense; pardon. - While there is no excuse, we can excuse. 2-To renounce anger or resentment against. - Yes, while the past is past, anger and resentment are burdens we carry, and only we can put down 3-To absolve from payment of (a debt, for example). Yes, we can say, "VP, LCM, etc, you no longer owe it to me to suffer for what you've done on my behalf. I release you to the past and let God be our judge." ---------------------------------- The problem as I see it is how some (oldiesman, Dartanian and others) make it more difficult to forgive by attempting to publically absolve Wierwille, Martindale and the rest. This, consciously or unconsciously, justifies them and their actions, which is hardly different than those excusing them, or looking the other way, while still in the cult.

Anyway, back to the topic, which is the concept: the map is not the territory. Our idea of God, our feelings for God, our knowledge of God - all limited, and fallible. Reading a biography is not knowing the person directly. It is knowing about the person. Loving a person you've read about is certainly possible, but it is not the same thing, by any stretch, as knowing the person. It is a vastly complex concept, rooted in countlessly cross-referenced bits of information, impressions, associations, capable of evoking a powerful emotional response. A concept is a representation, a picture, a "map." The map is not the territory. Do you believe in God? Belief, as we understand it, is not a bridge but a barrier, because belief, as WE understand and practice it today, is OUR definition of its object, not the object. Faith of old, the faith of Jesus, the faith of the bible, cannot be the same thing we call faith today. And how could it be? Something so powerful would have to be concealed from the casual eye, wouldn't it?

But... aren't you present?

Catch-22. You should start a religion.

ex10, you are gifted, and I'm sensing your presents.

Here's a thought, for you moms and dads. Imagine that your child, at the age of 4 or 5, begins to refer to the furniture as "dad," or "mom," and at the same time, seems to be by all appearances truly and completely oblivious to your voice, touch or even presence. Would you put the kid in therapy? Or would you take comfort knowing that at least she or he "believes" in you? Suppose your child was an adult? It might sound a little weird, until you remember that's how you want your children to "believe" in God. Then it seems perfectly okay. Right?

ex10, you're half-way to communion. Thank you for going the extra half-mile, just to participate. The premise of the promises' fulfillment is presence, which is to say, being present on the premises, His premise, our premises. We're talking definitions then, aren't we? ET pointed to the little spot on our foreheads (vicariously) and said, "I'll be right here." He promised, dammit. By the way, I'm standing right behind you, about 18 inches to your right. Do you sense my presence?

Peace back atcha, Abby.

I am an equal opportunity shoe-fitter.

I was just really blessed about just how really blessed you were about just how really blessed they were about just how really blessed I was. Doesn't that just really bless you?

WB - you may miss my point. Placeholders are fine, as long as the surrogate is not allowed to supplant the genuine article. If you kept a "donut" (spare) tire on your car, or a temporary bridge in your teeth, they would eventually disintegrate. If your faith is based upon a dogma, that's bad enough, but if you no longer distinguish between an absent God (in Person, in your own life) and a lot of information you choose to accept about Him, your "faith life" (for lack of a better description) will suffer the same fate as your tire and your false teeth: disintegration. They all may keep their form, but they will not serve any other function than adding dead weight, and the likelihood is they will cause harm when you eventually need them.

Jim, that's right.

Poetic imagery, Kit. Good for evoking emotions associated with real things. I think that must be how faith, or this "placeholder" phenomon, works so effectively. A cooperative subject can be hypnotized into believing a stapler is a favorite cat, the emotions are easily transferred. He is here, but evident only to the spirit. The spirit, then, must also be "here," but it is evident (evidently) only to Him. Not, of course, to the senses. Feelings, which your post may evoke for readers, are taken for evidence because they occur spontaneously in the real world. The work of religion is to borrow those feelings for real things, and associate them with the un-real, the illusory, the imaginary, giving the subject (believer) the sense of reality where none exists. Of what would faith consist without emotion? Unverifiable dogmas? Suppose you could feel nothing at all. What would remain? "Retemories?" We are so easily manipulated by our emotions when they are effectively hijacked from reality and held hostage by ANY mythology - spiritual, political, even commercial. The sanitariums are filled with delusional people. They may believe they are living in the Taj Mahal. Is the Taj Mahal a real place? Yes. Are they really there? No. This is the state of modern religion, as I see it. Most if not all of the "faithful" believe they have some connection to God, but they are convinced only by their emotional bond (fear, joy, guilt, comfort, dread...) to a familiar dogma. God, like the Taj Mahal, is in another realm entirely, and believers, like the incurably insane, can't bring themselves to look around and ask themselves, "What's missing? Should I be looking elsewhere?" The empty chair is... still empty. The cool of the day is found in the shade of a tree. The drying of tears is found in the comfort of a sympathetic friend. The reason to laugh can be found in the irony of anything, or in nothing at all. Light, passing through the prismatic "crystals of mist," forms a rainbow because sunlight is made of many colors, and a prism divides them. The doll is only a toy, and at most a hope, not a promise. The young boy in biology 101 wants to be a doctor to care for a world which was promised "wholeness." Hope and expectation are real only when the object of their desire is unfulfilled, that is, unreal. Regards...

I've heard that some families leave a seat at the dinner table for Jesus. They never have to pass Him the fried chicken, but they like the idea that He is there, silent, invisible, unresponsive, but as real as He can be. How real is that? Is belief the same as perception, or is it a placeholder, like a temporary crown sitting in your mouth until that glorious day when the true crown is glued in, forever and always? In the meanwhile, the temporary crown does its work, chews the steak, mashes kernels of corn, pries caps loose from Coke bottles, wholly molar yet wholly impermanent, dull and doomed. The placeholder will fall away some day, to be replaced by a golden crown worn in, if not on, your unworthy head. The thought keeps coming back to me - faith is a placeholder. It is a space, represented by a chair at the table. Will it be occupied one day by the true, living, conscious Jesus, presently elsewhere? Will God's presence some day supplant the words, images, emotions, associations, habits and rituals by which we may keep His chair at our table? Or is God here now, wondering what the H we're doing so worried about things that do not matter because they are not Him? Is your own realization of "faith" His presence, or just His placeholder? This quiz does not count toward your final grade, but how you answer it could make the grade irrelevant.

No, we saw the same flick. I just asked a lot of critical questions. I'm sure I'd have spoiled it for you. Song, I'm not sure about where the there you're referring to might be. Are you asking, did I see the movie? Answer: no, I channeled it. Real answer: yeah. One might think the producers made a "heavy" subject more palatable by making it entertaining. I think the entertainment was a distraction, to divert you from asking reasonable questions, and support your moviehouse "suspension of belief." Like Wierwille's hokey jokes throughout PFAL. Why else did he interrupt the thought process, cover the linguistic tracks of logical fallacies with irrelevant nonsense until it was too late to go back and trace them? Because he was a gifted humorist? I think not. The Polish wedding scene was a good example of this. It was a poor illustration of the addictive reflex, among other points it pretended to make, and I can only think its true purpose was to prevent you from assessing what they'd said so far. Call me a cynic, I expected far better, but a cult is a cult, and what do we expect from a cult? Ramtha or any other.