you adiaphorestic? u'b'cha!
First time I encountered the word "adiaphorestic" ... I'm not sure, mind you ... I think ... I grunted ... or something like that. For the first time, I could describe how I regard religiosity with a single adjective.
To give an concrete example of how I regard religiosity in general, I shall avail myself of references to the persuasion of Christian Science. Please, dear Reader, understand I'm only trying to convey what I mean by "adiaphorestic". With regard to that persuasion, I'm completely neutral.
Let's suppose that I was brought up to be a Christian Science. Let's further suppose I was lucky enough to land a job with a swell corporation. Every time flu season comes around, the corporation offers their employees the opportunity to get free flu inoculation. For several years, I've declined to take advantage.
I've done so not so much out of a reluctance to get punctured by a hypodermic needles, but rather out of, well, compliance with the faith, in which I was reared.
As I understand Christian Science, people should rely far more on prayer than medical science.
Anway, here's what happens one morning. I awake with two realizations. One being, I've come down with a horrible case of the flu. Even taking a deep breath makes my chest ache. The other being, I'm adiaphorestic. I'm theologically indifferent.
Suddenly, I believe with all my heart in the adiaphorestic creed, which consists of a simple proposition. Here it is. If we understood perfectly God's messages, then we would be angels. Well, we're no angels. Manifestly, that simple proposition has mind-boggling implications.
Here and now, unfortunately, I have neither the training nor the credentials nor the ambition to explore those implications. For now, let's go back to the morning I discover myself.
It's a struggle, but I get to a dollar store, and buy some flu medicine. Rather than only the recommended two caplets, I swallow four. In the time that follows, I'm content to let myself be counted as a member of the local Christian Science congregation.
Heck, I still attend services. Some of the congregates are wonderful friends, and I don't want to lose touch. What's more, I'm free of any impulse to check out religions. So far as I'm concerned, religions in general have their good points and, maybe, a few bad points.
It's only when some cleric or other claims to know perfectly what God wants us to believe, that I feel a little uneasy.
toodles
......\
.he who is known as sefton
To give an concrete example of how I regard religiosity in general, I shall avail myself of references to the persuasion of Christian Science. Please, dear Reader, understand I'm only trying to convey what I mean by "adiaphorestic". With regard to that persuasion, I'm completely neutral.
Let's suppose that I was brought up to be a Christian Science. Let's further suppose I was lucky enough to land a job with a swell corporation. Every time flu season comes around, the corporation offers their employees the opportunity to get free flu inoculation. For several years, I've declined to take advantage.
I've done so not so much out of a reluctance to get punctured by a hypodermic needles, but rather out of, well, compliance with the faith, in which I was reared.
As I understand Christian Science, people should rely far more on prayer than medical science.
Anway, here's what happens one morning. I awake with two realizations. One being, I've come down with a horrible case of the flu. Even taking a deep breath makes my chest ache. The other being, I'm adiaphorestic. I'm theologically indifferent.
Suddenly, I believe with all my heart in the adiaphorestic creed, which consists of a simple proposition. Here it is. If we understood perfectly God's messages, then we would be angels. Well, we're no angels. Manifestly, that simple proposition has mind-boggling implications.
Here and now, unfortunately, I have neither the training nor the credentials nor the ambition to explore those implications. For now, let's go back to the morning I discover myself.
It's a struggle, but I get to a dollar store, and buy some flu medicine. Rather than only the recommended two caplets, I swallow four. In the time that follows, I'm content to let myself be counted as a member of the local Christian Science congregation.
Heck, I still attend services. Some of the congregates are wonderful friends, and I don't want to lose touch. What's more, I'm free of any impulse to check out religions. So far as I'm concerned, religions in general have their good points and, maybe, a few bad points.
It's only when some cleric or other claims to know perfectly what God wants us to believe, that I feel a little uneasy.
toodles
......\
.he who is known as sefton
posted by he who is known as sefton | 4:08 PM
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