I am becoming famous, or perhaps infamous, for using Snopes.com and other factual sources to determine whether content shared on Social Media is factual or spurious.
With quotes, especially, I tend to hunt up citations that meet my standards.
Quotes that do turn out to be accurate never see more from me than a like or a here, here. Quotes that do not turn out to be accurate, on the other hand, often get a link in the comments.
I know that this seems trollish. Especially when, like in a very recent case, it was a harmless sentiment that was actually honorable in its foundational ideas.
Why should I presume to correct a misquote shared by a friend, when there is no apparent harm done?
Because we are in a silent war with an ideology that uses all kinds of misquotes and misinformation to sway a whole lot of people into believing things that are patently not true.
And while I support everyone's right to follow their own way, it goes hard with me when someone that I respect falls into that same whirlpool.
If we are going to change this world, we have to do it by being as verifiable as possible. Those who don't want to see the truth, never will see it. But we all have a responsibility to make sure that what we read, share and put out there for the rest of the world to read is factual and sourced.
I know of no one who wants to be willingly mislead. If we are, that is the worst state of affairs.
So, I become a well meaning troll. I try to make sure that, regardless of whether the sentiment is noble, the source is accurate, too.
I mean no offense. I only mean to keep us all on the footing of truth and honor.
That said, please cite your sources, double check before you share. In a moment of weakness we could be responsible for leading someone down a path to dangerous ideas.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
The war for truth
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Theology is a science, not a 'feeling'.
I sometimes read a passage or a paragraph from a book that makes me think that the author must have been inspired. Possibly even divinely inspired. And there is no doubt in my mind that the art of writing, once perfected, is as close to the pure act of creation described in so many mythologies.
We are often given gooseflesh by reading that one line, or quote or proverb, because it somehow speaks to us at an intimate level that we ourselves do not understand. How can that be? How can authors, long dead, say something in their works that hits us in the bullseye of our heart?
Perhaps, one of the reasons this is possible, is because each of us, for the most part, are provided with the same range of feelings or emotions and experiences. Many of us know the agony of unrequited love, or the loss of a dear friend or loved one. We also know the joys of watching our children grow or of holding a newborn. Those things, when we write about them, touch within us a place of commonality. They are the things that make us human.
Mythologies, developed as a means to identify with our ancestors and with our heritage, often touch us on similar emotions. We feel an intense sense of belonging. This is our history.
However, there comes a point when no matter how much something speaks to us, we must remember that those feelings are subjective. They are deeply personal and they mean something to us, but they are not universal in the purest sense.
This is why there is so much danger in making claims that what is written down in a history or mythology is literally (I mean this in every sense of the word) divinely inspired. It is dangerous because if we believe that we are obliged to obey those mythologies because of the inspiration, we fall into the trap of trying to get everyone on board with our way of seeing things.
This is most especially true with Biblical scriptures. It is fine to believe that the Bible is divinely inspired. It is not fine to try to convince everyone that they should believe the same thing, as well.
Theologians, whose sole job is to break down the historical, theological and mythological aspects of scriptures will agree that the works themselves are wonderful and full of wonderful things. However, secular theologians, those whose study is not influenced by any inherent divinity in the texts, will also warn that those same scriptures can be misused by applying to them a general divinity that must be obeyed.
However, a deep and lifelong study of scripture is a fine thing to attempt. And if, within those scriptures, one finds a mold into which they can pour themselves, for their betterment, there is nothing wrong with that.
Sadly, we often find that a person's theology is frightfully thin, when they've come to believe that the essence of the scriptures are perfect and unerring truth.
After a lifetime of study, until recently, I cannot dig beyond a small shred of doubt within myself that while beautiful and not to be missed, the writings are not inspired. I can take it one step further and say that I believe that the Gospels, for instance, are the more likely to be inspired, because their combined message is so good. However, speaking historically, Paul's writings came before the Gospels. To me, being absolutely subjective, I do not see Paul's writings being inspired at all. They are clever, well written and even deeply important to the faith as a whole, but I do not see them as being inspired.
To make this theological break from Paul, for some, would seem the worst thing possible. And yet, the faith is not about Paul. It is about Jesus. Even Paul writing about Jesus is not Jesus himself.
Since Jesus is the prime point of the Gospels, and the stories are directly dealing with his ministry, it makes sense that we would think them divine, since the Gospels claim Jesus' divinity. However, it seems to me that Paul's ministry was about Paul, and we are never made to believe that Paul is divine, accepting that he is doing what he believes is divine work. That is an entirely different concept.
When we delve into the mysteries of these scriptures, we must be wary enough to discern our feelings and desires from what we read. Just because it agrees with us, or gives us comfort, does not make it universally true to all.
We are often given gooseflesh by reading that one line, or quote or proverb, because it somehow speaks to us at an intimate level that we ourselves do not understand. How can that be? How can authors, long dead, say something in their works that hits us in the bullseye of our heart?
Perhaps, one of the reasons this is possible, is because each of us, for the most part, are provided with the same range of feelings or emotions and experiences. Many of us know the agony of unrequited love, or the loss of a dear friend or loved one. We also know the joys of watching our children grow or of holding a newborn. Those things, when we write about them, touch within us a place of commonality. They are the things that make us human.
Mythologies, developed as a means to identify with our ancestors and with our heritage, often touch us on similar emotions. We feel an intense sense of belonging. This is our history.
However, there comes a point when no matter how much something speaks to us, we must remember that those feelings are subjective. They are deeply personal and they mean something to us, but they are not universal in the purest sense.
This is why there is so much danger in making claims that what is written down in a history or mythology is literally (I mean this in every sense of the word) divinely inspired. It is dangerous because if we believe that we are obliged to obey those mythologies because of the inspiration, we fall into the trap of trying to get everyone on board with our way of seeing things.
This is most especially true with Biblical scriptures. It is fine to believe that the Bible is divinely inspired. It is not fine to try to convince everyone that they should believe the same thing, as well.
Theologians, whose sole job is to break down the historical, theological and mythological aspects of scriptures will agree that the works themselves are wonderful and full of wonderful things. However, secular theologians, those whose study is not influenced by any inherent divinity in the texts, will also warn that those same scriptures can be misused by applying to them a general divinity that must be obeyed.
However, a deep and lifelong study of scripture is a fine thing to attempt. And if, within those scriptures, one finds a mold into which they can pour themselves, for their betterment, there is nothing wrong with that.
Sadly, we often find that a person's theology is frightfully thin, when they've come to believe that the essence of the scriptures are perfect and unerring truth.
After a lifetime of study, until recently, I cannot dig beyond a small shred of doubt within myself that while beautiful and not to be missed, the writings are not inspired. I can take it one step further and say that I believe that the Gospels, for instance, are the more likely to be inspired, because their combined message is so good. However, speaking historically, Paul's writings came before the Gospels. To me, being absolutely subjective, I do not see Paul's writings being inspired at all. They are clever, well written and even deeply important to the faith as a whole, but I do not see them as being inspired.
To make this theological break from Paul, for some, would seem the worst thing possible. And yet, the faith is not about Paul. It is about Jesus. Even Paul writing about Jesus is not Jesus himself.
Since Jesus is the prime point of the Gospels, and the stories are directly dealing with his ministry, it makes sense that we would think them divine, since the Gospels claim Jesus' divinity. However, it seems to me that Paul's ministry was about Paul, and we are never made to believe that Paul is divine, accepting that he is doing what he believes is divine work. That is an entirely different concept.
When we delve into the mysteries of these scriptures, we must be wary enough to discern our feelings and desires from what we read. Just because it agrees with us, or gives us comfort, does not make it universally true to all.
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