Unbiblical Thoughts

I've kept my Lent vows for the past week, of reading five verses every day. So far I'm reading Psalms. Some time ago I started at Genesis, and on various occasions have read through enough to get to Psalms. At this rate I'll reach the New Testament sometime in the next decade.

I'm not sure what effect I expected this would have on me. So far, it's mostly confirming me in my commitment to Unitarianism, because if I had to believe every single word of the Bible was the literal divine truth of God's interactions with human beings, I'd wind up at the state of mind aptly summed up as "I absolutely believe in God, and I absolutely hate the bastard".

Mine is the Newcomer's Good News edition of the Bible, which is an excellent Bible version to own if you're reading it for the first time. Simple and clear English, with illustrations, footnotes, and helpful summaries of Biblical history at the front and end. I'm happy to own it, but alas, every time I come across a note at the start (which I have no doubt the author sincerely believed when they wrote it, and probably still does) which mentions how the chapter in question highlights God's constant love for his people, or the unchanging truth about human nature, the little sceptical voice that drove me out of my previous churchgoing pipes up with "Only if you have a very bleak view of human nature".

I can't fault the author's of my Bible's edition for their commitment to their beliefs, but after concerted reading of the Old Testament, you begin to wonder what an edition of the Bible would look like if annotated according to modern sensibilities. It could begin with a list at the start of each chapter:
"No. of times God orders the Israelites to slaughter an entire people, down to their children and animals = 2"
"No. of times a man kills another man who raped his sister over the insult to his family's honour = 1" "No. of times women are described as prostitutes = 3".
"This chapter should be noted for the exceptionally bloody bride price King David paid for his first wife, Saul's daughter." (200 foreskins, freshly hacked from the corpses of dead Phoenician soldiers. David was the one who made them dead.)
And so forth.

And yet, the Old Testament contains the tale of Ruth, and the love between two women. It contains the Song of Songs, some of the best erotic poetry ever written. (My edition, rather sweetly, notes that this can be considered as a metaphor for the love between God and his people. I cannot be the only person down the ages who has thought "....really?") It contains the book of Ecclesiastes, the author of whom would be on my "list of people to invite to a drinking party".

Religion really isn't easy or straightforward. It's not comfortable, either.

Trenchant Wryness, the Dogging Song, and Lenten Vows

Is the tone I normally go for when writing blogposts. Which is a challenge when it comes to writing about matters religious or spiritual. It is something of a struggle to unite the side of me that meditates on filling oneself with the energy of the universe, and the side that couldn't stop giggling at the "Dogging Song" by Fascinating Aida.

I actually think one of the difficulties of being spiritual and / or religious in the modern age is that ours is a time when earnestness is not much prized. Knowingness, humour and continual self-mockery are more valuable. All of which I'm fine with, but once you start trying to deal with concepts like the meaning of life, contact with the Divine, and meditating upon one's chakras*, you have to suspend the voice in your head that wants to find the joke in everything. It's not an easy thing to do, for me anyway, and I'm still trying to find a writing style that isn't mocking, and isn't too worthy for words. I don't think I'm getting there, but I can only keep trying. Here's my latest thoughts on Lent.


Lenten Vow

Lent began on Wednesday 18th February this year. Each year, I like to make a vow for Lent, a habit that began as a child at Methodist Sunday School, with the traditional giving up of chocolate. Despite the oft-derided nature of such vows (“diet in disguise”, “First world problems” are among two of the criticisms I’ve heard), I actually think they can be useful. I think it’s good to learn how to overcome habits that can trap us, and learn that we don’t have to be dependent on external sources of pleasure.

Since I became an adult, and then a Unitarian, my vows have shifted, though, from the giving up of things, to the committing to things. Last year, I vowed to meditate for five minutes every day. (If I averaged it out, it would probably have been 2.5 minutes a day. Oops.) Now, I try to make a choice to do something that might help me to develop spiritually.

This year, I have vowed to read five passages from the Bible each day. Happily for me, I’ve done this a few times, and I’m now as far through as “Psalms”, having just finished the Book of Job. As a Unitarian, is this an odd vow? I don’t believe it has to be. I became a Unitarian because I wished to learn from all faiths, and the faith from which our church sprang – Christianity – is one I still want to study.

In an odd way, I get more from the Bible now as a Unitarian than I did in my previous habits of worship. I find it easier now to read the Bible now that I can see it in its historical context, and recognise that these are words written more than two thousand years ago by the wise men of a persecuted Middle Eastern tribe. In 2015, having received an education that introduced at least a brief introduction to the major religions of the world, it’s not necessary for me to believe this is the literal truth of God, and the only truth of God, in order to find the wisdom hidden within it. And if it challenges me, and I sometimes don’t know if I agree with it? Well, if it was easy, it wouldn’t be religion.



* not as painful as it sounds, you can do it lying down.

CyclingDiver Once More... Well Nearly

The first part of my blogging name is accurate again; I'm back on my bike, and very happy about it. I like cycling for a lot of reasons, partly the free transport, partly the ability to move heavy stuff around without knackering my back, but mostly for the same reason kids ride BMXs; it's just fun. Even if I did have to spend fifteen minutes with a headlamp, a tiny screwdriver and a lot of swearing to put the new battery into the bike computer's sensor.

I will be back swimming in the sea tomorrow. Not fully diving - the sea isn't really open for business just yet - but it's good training for when I'm back donning the drysuit to play with the seals. I also managed to run 5K without stopping the other day, and whilst doing this on the treadmill is not particularly impressive, it's still something I'm quite proud. All is well in the domain of CyclingDiver.

The Metaphorical Mantelpiece

I recently realised that my mantlepiece is a metaphor for the confusion of my brain.

Front and centre, the Unitarian chalice. At the back, a souvenir from the Lit and Phil Society. To the right of the chalice, the Mesopotamian Goddess of Beer.

I'm not sure what this says about me. Other than that I like Unitarianism. And beer.

That's That Done, Then

Dry January is complete. The beer has remained unquaffed, the wine has remained unsuppted, the raki has remained stoppered in the fridge. (Where it may well stay - ever drunk raki?)

As for the benefits - I'm sleeping a bit better, my weight has dropped (although I've also been hitting the gym like a fiend), and my skin looks fine. On the other hand, I can't say it's been a really huge difference. But not a bad one.

Mainly, I think I have learned how much I really like beer, and that orange and soda is not an adequate substitute.

Then again, orange and soda doesn't attract advertising like this or this, so I guess it's swings and roundabouts. Onwards to Tuesday night, and the ceremonial First Pint of 2015. I can taste its sweet, refreshing nectar now.