Nathan_Jr

Sounds like you are the one diagnosing your friend on your own hunch. Find out for yourself about the MMPI-2 test. It’s about as objective as it gets for personality disorders and mental illness. Chemical tests have their own limits. False positives suck.

Yep. This photo is an accurate illustration of how I felt at every fellowship. If the commander said to me, “Hey! I really need some help with xyz, could you provide financial support?” I likely would have happily given. But instead, he said, “God loves a cheerful giver - Hey! I didn’t write the book.” The implication is you will not be loved by God unless you give me money - and you better be happy about being manipulated! This is abject wickedness. And a lie in the name of God. God doesn’t need nor does God want your money.

Countless “Huh?” moments like this arose for me. However, I learned early on not to inquire into the logical fallacies, absurd claims, linguistic stupidities and blatant errors. There are only so many exasperated, condescending sighs a “student” can take. This is why I put “teach” in quotes. Victor and his acolytes don’t know what it means to teach. The embarrassed avoidance of questions and the further confusion caused by the gaslighting, condescending answers, along with the brutal schedule and duration of “the class,” are all designed to wear the “student” down to a dull edge of compliance.

And the MMPI tests. 567 yes/no/true/false questions. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minnesota_Multiphasic_Personality_Inventory If I were a betting man, I'd say the psychiatric community today has more more effective tools in its bag than a jar of cookies.

Ah, well, then surely you know that you know that you know. It was a docuseries, not quite a movie. Nonetheless... We don't have enough Jeff Sharlets in this world.

Nor would I. The religious lobby is extremely powerful. Ever see The Family on Netflix.

Hypocrites, all of them! Unable, because they are unwilling, to go beyond what they were "taught." Oh, Irony, you sneaky pooh.... I seeeeeee yooouuu...

This is hilarious! And so sad.

I believe we touched on this before in another thread. I find the inclusion of this phase in the tax code to be an egregious, contemptuous phuque yoo to the Fist Amendment, which is just a verbose way of saying the tax code 501(c)(3) is unconstitutional. Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Thank you all for providing perspective and treating me like a golden retriever when I ask obvious, even stupid, questions. This is all so absurd, but I know it's true. I'm dumbfounded... Mmmph... just... wow... no words... except... What does the Bible say about caring for widows?

"Hey! I didn't write the book."

There is no honor among thieves.

So victor himself didn’t make arrangements for her care? He didn’t provide for her? Couldn’t he have made a 3x5 card to remind himself to do this basic thing with the spoils of his grift? What a mean man! Everywhere you look there is a sign. Victor was NOT a THE man of god. Not even an A man of god.

Why would a former minister of TWI, one who seems to be M&A, feel compelled to provide for Mrs. Wierwille’s medical bills? Why would there be a perceived need at all? I get that he didn’t file the suit for personal gain, but of all charities! Of the $millions victor extracted from his dupes, was there no provision for Mrs. W’s care into old age? Really? WTAF?

Victor, bless his little heart, “taught” no one dies unless they stop beleeeving. Now, I don’t know if beleeeving requires a well-rested soul life, or if unbeleeef is physically exhausting, whatever the cause, sleep is brought about by fatigue. victor succumbed to death, which is to say, he was caused to sleep, because he was too tired to stay awake, which is related to his beleeeving, or lack thereof, somehow. All that is REALLY known is that above all victor did not stand. Standing can be exhausting. So, he stopped beleeeving in order to get some rest. Victor, bless his little heart, is not awake. Nor is he alive now. He’s dead due to his inability to beleeeve… or his fatigue. Math.

Just a little charlatan so full of bullshonta. Had he been given an enema before he died, he could have been buried in a match box.

I, also, partake of communion when offered at church. I didn’t have religious rituals growing up, even though my mother is a devout Christian - possibly the least divisive person I’ve ever known. I was in many a wedding party of my Catholic and Episcopalian friends. The rituals, including communion, intrigued me, probably because they were so novel to me in my early twenties. I grew to appreciated the meditative discipline. I remember them fondly. They don’t mean anything to me, but I don’t begrudge their practice. HOWEVER, I never felt “spiritually” or religiously extorted by communion until I partook of the wierwillian version. It’s subtle, but real. It’s control through fear. It’s outlined in the final paragraph of someone’s long post up thread. It’s the same old story. And it is wicked. Bless their little, hard, black hearts.

Yeah, that sounds familiar. Thanks. My fellowship commander's tenure was c.1975-c.1986, but his commitment is forevah. I think he "taught" it as you explain it.

Ah, yes. That's right. Now I remember. Either last Sunday or next Sunday there will be no fellowship because of communion. Was Easter Sunday acknowledged? For some reason I feel like it wasn't. Not 1st century enough or the date is wrong. Something about accuracy vs. tradition. I'm probably remembering that wrongly, too.

Tonight is Holy Communion (HC) at the local fellowship. (Is it always on Passover?) I only know this because my son was manipulated away from his scheduled time with me to go to the service. I remember the last wierwillian HC I attended. I wasn't sure if I would go, but my ex wife admonished me with some kind of passive-aggressive threat like, "I wouldn't miss it if I were you," or, "If you know what's good for you," or "It's a real good idea." There were red candles and a white linen table cloth. The mood was über serious, solemn, morose, and somehow comically pretentious. So much sincerity. (You know what sincerity is no guarantee of, don't you?) Some cheesy Way elevator music (sorry, just not my style) was playing on the stereo as attendees shuffled in. No one dared say a word. The first order of business was, well, business! The FC wanted to get the cash flow out of the way so as not to interrupt the ritual flow later. He actually said this at the outset. The horn was passed, and everyone dropped in their donations conspicuously, making sure to reveal for any scanning glance bundles of $20 bills at every turn. HC was always the most lucrative fellowship for the FC because attendees beleeeved they were buying "spiritual protection" to cover them for the next twelve months. The preoccupation with collecting cash money ruined the whole thing for me. I always found it to be a vulgarity tainting the sacrament. I guess my mind wasn't renewed enough or something. Oh well, render unto Caesar... oh, wait... No scripture was read at HC. None. HOWEVER, a passage from JCOPS or JCOP was read. ------- 10,000 Unpainted Arizona points to whoever correctly guesses the author of the following absurdly. (Beleeeving is misspelled by the original author.) I learned that God provided communion as a way to help people's believing: 'Do these things in remembrance of me.' That remembrance would be a believing one. It's like the spit-mud that Jesus put on the eyelids of the blind man. It helped his believing. Same with the woman who touched the hem of his garment. Same with the brass serpent Moses erected in an emergency situation. All these things were cultural believing builders. So if someone refuses or is unaware of this special believing aid provided by God, it's a little like not using an umbrella in a rainstorm. Walking out into the rain without this umbrella (communion) deployed (unworthy) a person is doomed (damned) to get wet (sick), sooner or later.

Schizophrenia isn't diagnosed on a hunch. To assert such an opinion as fact, is not only intellectually irresponsible and dishonest, it is as "spiritually" stupid as asserting the imaginative claim that cocks crowed at different times of the day in "Bible times." Oh, man. This is tough. I can relate. I know what it's like to lose a lifelong best friend at that age, but I don't know what it's like to discover his body. Damn. I also know what it's like to lose a lifelong, mentally ill best friend to suicide. He was bipolar and had stopped taking the medication that was working. Came to after months of mania, looked up from the bottom of the deep crevasse he had dug for himself, and in bewildering despair, he ended it. Nothing is quite as jarring as losing a friend to suicide. I know of nothing that will ring one's bell in quite the same way as hearing this news. I've known a few schizophrenics, but I wouldn't call any of them friends. None were scary. None were dangerous. All were rather innocent, childlike. Delusional. Even silly, if you don't know what's going on. The ones I've known were very sweet.

It is beyond beleeef.

Amen.

It seems to me, this is all part of the rebirth, the renewing of the mind.

Is the expression of Truth, Love… God… limited to one language in one corner of the world in one sliver of time? If so, says who? Man or God? Who is limiting God? The man with the past experiences and prejudices and conclusions upon which his doctrine of opinion is formed? Is this not a conceptual construct of thought? Is God a concept? When it come to Truth, Love… God… I think we think too much in an effort to make it fit like a hand in a glove. Because gloves are comfortable and secure and feel good.