The Beginning of the Gospel of [insert your name here].

Reading:  Mark 1:1:  The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, son of God.


In my last post I talked about the idea that resonated inside me in the silence of a Quaker meeting for worship on January 1st.  The idea that Jesus was an ordinary man living an extraordinary life.  That's led me to a Jesus I can read about again and perhaps learn from again.  It's also led me to a place in which most orthodox Christians would consider a land of anti-Christ falsehood.  If my last post was me crossing the border into that land, this post is me building a house there.

Another idea arose in that meeting.  Two people gave short ministry in the worship.  The first person mentioned beginnings in her ministry, it being January 1st, and I thought of all the beginnings in my own life and thought of the ordinary Jesus.  The first verse of the second gospel came to mind.

The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, son of God.

I thought, since this Jesus is ordinary, that the verse could be rewritten.  For myself.  For any person.  For any organisation.  Like this:

The beginning of the gospel of [insert your name here].

What is your gospel?  What good news and message of light can you begin today?  What beginnings have already been a part of your story?

The words stand at the start of the book about Jesus, the book about me, the book about you.

What words would you like to see written in your book?

Let's go further.  Jesus is called the Christ.  What happens if you do this?:

The beginning of the gospel of [insert your name here] Christ.

Say it to yourself.  Say it out loud.  How does it make you feel?  Are you able to think of yourself as Christ or to recognise that you can be Christ in this world?  What would it take for you to be Christ, recognising your own worth as teacher and living as a light-bringer in some new way?

What message and action can you take to the world as you learn to live as Christ?

And further still.  What happens if you do this?:

The beginning of the gospel of [insert your name here] Christ, child of God.

Say that out loud too.  Several times if you like.  And say this:

I am a child of God, though I find it hard to recognise that I am one with that which is light and love.
I am a Christ in this world, though in brokenness I may not see the anointing given to me.
I have a gospel to proclaim and good news to live in this world.
I wish to learn of the Christ-gospel and learn to live my [insert your name here] gospel.
In the places I cannot accept my ordinary divinity and reject my beauty I will gently let that be my truth for now.

All people are children of God, at one with all which is light and love.
All people are Christs, trying their best, but so often not seeing or hearing Spirit wisdom or acting in that wisdom.
All people have a gospel to proclaim and good news to live.

I have failed to live as good news in this world.  I forgive myself.
Others have failed to live as good news in this world.  I forgive them.
And where I cannot forgive I accept that and gently let that be my truth for now.


What is your gospel?  In what ways are you the anointed light bearer?  In what ways does your love and your wonder touch the world?

For I am convinced that I have an ordinary extraordinary gospel.  I am convinced that I am at the beginning, the birth of discovering what that gospel will be and the birth of learning to live it.

I am convinced too that each of you has an ordinary extraordinary gospel.

As your book is written this year, what will be recorded?  However the book is written, let it be written.  Whether filled with healing or brokenness.  Whether filled with joy or sorrow.  Let it be written.  And let it be proclaimed.  Because your humanity and your divinity are miracles.  Though you may be an insignificant speck on a tiny rock in the universe you're also a totally significant wonder, the greatest in the universe.  You are self-aware and that's a greater wonder than all the stars combined, than the sight of galaxies colliding, even than the brightness of the big bang itself.  You, insignificant one, are spectacular.  You, ordinary one, can live in the fire of the extraordinary.

I can too.  And it's just as hard for me to believe that about myself as it is for you to believe it about yourself.

Maybe we can help each other.  Raise each other up to be the Christs we already are.

That's a challenge for myself.  It's up to you whether you want to live that challenge too - in whatever language you use.  It doesn't have to be the language of Christ and God.  The atheist can have a gospel too and the truth, love, and light remain the same by whatever words we use and in whatever set of stories we tell.

_____________________

For anyone interested, the second piece of ministry given in that Quaker meeting was a quotation taken from the book Quaker Faith and Practice.  I think that's a most excellent book.  I don't browse it that often but when I do I am always inspired.  The quotation was the first in the chapter on living faithfully.

I ask for daily bread, but not for wealth, lest I forget the poor.
I ask for strength, but not for power, lest I despise the meek.
I ask for wisdom, but not for learning, lest I scorn the simple.
I ask for a clean name, but not for fame, lest I contemn the lowly.
I ask for peace of mind, but not for idle hours, lest I fail to hearken to the call of duty.

Inazo Nitobe, 1909

Matthew 1: 1-17 - The Upside-Down Jesus. What if God was all of us?

Reading:  Matthew 1: 1-17

Thoughts arising from sitting in the silence of Quaker worship in Newcastle on New Year's Day, 2017.


This passage from the Bible was written with purposes in mind.  Every passage was.  There isn't a single word of the book that we can claim is just plain, simple history.  There are meanings and agendas behind every verse, every story.  In the gospel of John we read an agenda when the gospel writer says, "But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name."

Every verse of every gospel is the same.  Backed by agendas and beliefs.  They're not history books.   On a shelf opposite me I have books about the history of Newcastle.  On the table next to me is a book about the history of Manchester.  These books have an agenda too:  To teach about the way things were and how people lived in the past.  Perhaps the authors may have tried to make social or political points too.  Perhaps they have added their own judgements to the events of history.  Perhaps not.  In any case, their books are there to teach and to inform; to help the reader understand a little of our human story.

The gospels are not history books though they claim to tell a history, a story of one man and the people surrounding him.  The gospels are polemic.  They are evangelistic.  They weren't written so you could understand the conditions in a Victorian poor house or even the conditions for a Roman slave.  They were written to convert you to a belief, to a life and to keep you converted.

Every word was written by zealous believers, men thinking that their way was the right way, men thinking that other people should follow that way too.  Every word was written in order to convince others that this man Jesus was worthy of surrendering your life to, living for, and that he brought hope to the world in a unique way.

Not only that, our understanding of those words traditionally came from more men who thought the same way and who set in stone and doctrine their "correct" interpretations of the gospels, their "correct" understanding of Jesus, and a firmer and firmer belief that outside of Jesus there was no hope at all.

When we look at the genealogy of Jesus as recorded in Matthew - and as recorded differently in Luke - we don't see the hand of the historian.  We see the hand of the religious apostle trying to convince us that their thinking about Jesus is correct.  We see him writing too in his own social, political, religious and scientific context.

In short, the genealogy you might have read was written to show you that Jesus is special.  That he is unique.  It was written to prove that Jesus was THE Messiah promised long before and that he is worthy to be worshiped.  It was written to prove that Jesus is special.  And specially unique.  Volumes have been written just about the two genealogy passages.  People have come up with lots of ideas about the ways Jesus is shown to be special and unique and about why the two passages are so different.  I don't want to talk about any of those ideas.  All you need to know is this:

The family history of Jesus in Matthew is the beginning of a gospel written by a man with a particular religious viewpoint, a particular view of Jesus and a particular zeal for expressing that view as the truth.

The family history of Jesus and the entire gospel was written to show you that Jesus is special, unique and that he wasn't just a human.  It was written to show that Jesus is worth following and worshiping and dying with precisely because he is so different from us.  Heck, he's God incarnate, one of a kind.  He's messiah, one of a kind.

That's the Jesus I followed for 25 years.  But it's the Jesus I can no longer follow.

What I'm going to talk of today is a different Jesus.  I'm going to give you the upside-down Jesus.  And then I'm going to suggest that the Jesus I'm speaking of is closer to the Jesus of history and that the Jesus of orthodox Christianity is the upside-down one.

I'm going to proclaim that Jesus and the stories about him are worth paying attention to for one simple reason:

Jesus was ordinary.

Yes.  That's right.  I did say that.  Jesus was ordinary.  He spoke deep truths as an ordinary man.  He attracted followers as an ordinary man.  He was just like you.  Just like me.

The Jesus of Christianity is far removed from us.  He's God.  He's perfect.  He doesn't make sense.  In three gospels we read narratives of Jesus being tempted.  But he's God.  And really, when push comes to shove, there's no way that Jesus could have given in to the temptation.  The Christian Jesus makes the stories meaningless.  But when he's an ordinary man and temptation comes ... that's the moment the story has something worthwhile to teach us.

The whole Jesus is fully incarnate God and one-third of the Trinity while being fully man has never really made sense.  Christianity, once it codified the dogmas, has worked on the assumption that it's true and theologians and preachers have battled with the contradictions arising - preferring to call contradictions "mysteries."  Theologians have looked at the concept of God emptying himself to become man (it's in chapter two of the letter to the Philippians) and have piled theory onto theory of how that works out and how God and Man are held together in one person.  Each theory ultimately fails.  Why?  Is it because it hasn't fully expressed a truth?  Or is it because it's not a truth at all?  I used to preach the former.  I now believe the latter.

I no longer look upon Jesus as uniquely special.  That's meaningless for my life.  I can no longer follow that Jesus. 

I believe he was ordinary.  And his followers couldn't cope with an ordinary Jesus.  So they bigged him up!  They kept inventing ways in which he wasn't ordinary, was special, until they had made him into God - completely missing the point and misinterpreting the things he said about ordinary people.

When Jesus prayed and meditated he did so as an ordinary man.  When he loved he loved as an ordinary man.  When he spoke he spoke to ordinary people as an ordinary man.  When he cried he cried the tears of a man and when he laughed he laughed as a man.  Curiously he never laughs in the Bible.  The gospel writers had become that out of touch with his humanity.  You have to look to the gnostic and so-called apocryphal texts to find Jesus being that much of a human.  When Jesus ate and drank he was an ordinary man and when the story takes us into his suffering he is suffering as an ordinary man.

And that's a Jesus worth following.  That's a Jesus worth listening to.

He's ordinary.  He's just one of us.

That doesn't mean that he's not extraordinary though.  He was.  An ordinary man, fully realising truths and living an extraordinary life.

I believe his life has been mythologised, that many of the events we read of didn't actually happen.  I believe stories have been lifted from pagan religions, words have been borrowed, inventions have been devised, and facts greatly exaggerated through years of religious enthusiasm by a bunch of great people who couldn't quite cope with their ordinary shepherd.  But I'm not sure that matters.  I'm going to be looking at whether the stories can teach us - with an ordinary Jesus and without preaching the existence of a God.  Perhaps, just as those early Christians created a Jesus they could follow I am in exactly the same business of creating a Jesus who says words I can listen to.

The creeds say that Jesus was fully divine and fully human.  I agree with that.  However, I would go on to say that we are all fully divine and fully human.  We have forgotten our divinity.  And we fail to live as the humans we are.

This upside-down Jesus can teach us.  To remember our divinity.  And to learn to be human.

The Jesus who is said to have preached the Sermon on the Mount preached it as an ordinary person to ordinary people.  And then he lived the sermon and taught us how we might learn to live it too.  The Jesus who told us that the kingdom of heaven is within us told us that as an ordinary person speaking to ordinary people.  And then he lived it.  He showed us the kingdom of heaven in himself and so showed us the kingdom of heaven in us.

He's ordinary.  And so are we.

He's extraordinary.  And so might we be.  Precisely because he is one of us.  The same.

I tried to follow "The Imitation of Christ" for twenty years.  But really, when all is said and done, what was the point of that?  The person I tried to imitate was so much different to me that it was impossible.  I might as well have tried to imitate a storm cloud by wringing out a wet sponge, flashing a torch and shouting "Boom!"  Imitating a uniquely divine, uniquely powerful, one of a kind Jesus is a fool's errand.

But imitating the ordinary Jesus?  I might be able to set foot on that path.  By the time I reach the close of the fourth gospel I might be walking it.  Or I might decide there are other paths equally worthy of walking and walk those.  At this point I need to find out.  Is the godless gospel worth my time?  Is the ordinary Jesus worth sitting with as a friend?  I invite you to find out with me.

Matthew 1:1-17 - Four Ideas From Forty Generations

Reading:  Matthew chapter 1, verses 1 to 17.

Image originally from http://sacredsandwich.com/ but I can't find the page.

I've been thinking about these verses for the past week, wondering what to say.  I've always found that they make for a very difficult beginning to the New Testament.  I'd open the book and the first thing I'd be presented with was a dull family tree and I didn't know quite what to do with this list of names.  I had plenty of choices and I've found myself wondering about four in particular, none of which have felt right.  They're not wrong.  They're just not right for me now or right for what I'd like this blog to become.

____________

It would have been easy enough to write about how the genealogy recorded in Matthew points to the inclusiveness of the message of Jesus.  A radical inclusiveness in which nobody is excluded.  I'd have written about the women included in the list of names - Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, the wife of Uriah, and of course Mary.  Five women among forty men.  I'd write of gender inclusivity.  I'd have written about how those five women included foreigners, about how they included those known for sin too.  Inclusiveness.  But that's been done many times before.

Interestingly I've never heard anyone talk about how many of the men in that list committed grievous sins in the Old Testament men of whom it isn't recorded that they did anything good at all, just that they "did evil in the eyes of the Lord."

And while I've heard sermons about those women and been told that God accepts outcasts and people from all walks of life I never heard in those sermons about the man who was from an almost despised underclass - a shepherd.  A man who was accepted and who became king of Israel.

I find that all the radically inclusive sermons I've heard - even those I've heard in inclusive churches - are not inclusive enough.

________________

For a day I was toying with writing about "begat".  The King James Bible is known for all the begatting!  On Christmas day I was listening to carols and one of them points to Jesus as being special because he's "begotten not made" echoing the words of the Nicene Creed of AD325.  I could have written about how we are all begotten and how traditionally Christianity claimed that Jesus was begotten of God - so was himself God.  I toyed with that idea.  And hastily moved on.

__________________

I considered talking about verse 17.  A good verse for the first day of 2017.  The translation linked to above reads, "So all the generations from Abraham to David were fourteen generations, and from David to the deportation to Babylon fourteen generations, and from the deportation to Babylon to the Christ fourteen generations."

All those fourteens.  Impressive the way that works.  It's also interesting that Hebrew numerology ascribes numbers to the letters of the Hebrew alphabet and the letters of David add up to fourteen.

What I would have written about is that the verse is wrong.  Plainly, patently, obviously, glaringly wrong!  Count the generations for yourself if you wish.  There's one missing.  Why is that?  Personally I think it's just a scribal error that got into the received text or that the gospel writer was mistaken in the first place.  But what if there's a reason for the missing generation?

What if there is mystery in something so simple?  I was all set to write about the joy of mystery and the wonder of not knowing the answers.

_________________

Then I wondered if I wouldn't be able to turn off my scholar's head.  I thought of writing about the differences between the genealogy of Jesus as recorded by Matthew and Luke and about the different reasons people have come up with for the discrepancy and how they have tried to explain it all away.  I thought of writing about what Matthew was wanting to prove and what Luke was trying to prove and the things they were wanting to say about Jesus.

I am in a privileged position these days.  In years gone by I believed the Bible to be the inerrant word of God.  Whatever it said had to be true and I went to a great deal of trouble to try to defend it.  It's an illogical quest but sometimes a conservative and monolithic faith triumphs over reason.  Ultimately the inerrancy of the Bible is indefensible.  I realise that now.

Today my conclusion about the two genealogies is simple:  They are fabrications.  They are stories to prove a religious point.  They are tales to convert the unconverted,  Jews and gentiles alike.  They are lists of names drawn together to fulfill loose prophecies and provide a Jesus who might be worthy of adoration.

For most of my Christian life I wouldn't have been able to begin to accept such a conclusion.  I found the image above, without attribution, on a page telling me that though the genealogies are very different, "sound" scholars have provided reasonable explanations.  I know those explanations.  I don't believe they hold up to critical analysis but I know them.  And I believed that at least one of them had to be true because everything in the Bible was true.

I find that, now I am not a "Christian", my belief is far more in line with the bulk of modern biblical scholarship.  I note that the Wiki page on the genealogy of Jesus mentions in its first paragraph two scholars I now respect deeply, Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan - men whose work I once found reprehensible and grossly anti-Christianity.  It seems that I am in broad agreement with them on this passage.  The fundamentalist claims that men like Borg are not Christians.  He would have claimed otherwise.  Maybe his deep faith rested on something far more deeply rooted than a book.  It's only now, as a post-Christian, that I find myself able to consider reading his writings.

___________________________

I could have written about any one of those topics when considering this passage.  I'm not going to.  As I sat in a Quaker meeting house this morning an idea arose and I knew that I had to write from that idea.  It's an idea that will explain from the outset what I currently believe about Jesus.  It's an idea that may give me a clue as to a reason why Jesus may still be worth following - even with my beliefs.

It's a simple idea:  The passage entirely misses the point about Jesus!

Now there's a sermon I've never heard.  In the next post I will write it.  Or possibly in the post after that because that wasn't the only idea arising from the silence of Quaker worship today.  I've just got to skip forward an entire gospel to express the other idea and to ask you questions.

Next time I'll get into the real work of this blog.  The real pleasure too.  I apologise that today was more a laying aside of the some of the things standing in the way of how I want to approach the gospels.

Thoughts On The Godless Gospels - An Introduction To The Project

The picture above shows the Schoenstatt Shrine in Greater Manchester.  I visited it a few months ago and enjoyed the experience and the welcome of the few people who happened to be there at the time, whose holy hour of prayer I disrupted.  All the pictures in this post were taken at the shrine.  If you're ever passing that way go and see it and spend some time sitting in the gardens.  They're for everyone, not just for local Catholics.

************

I became a Christian in 1990.  In February of that year I knelt on the floor of a bedroom in a hall of residence in Bradford and prayed a prayer that set the course for most of my adult life.  In that time I've been a worship leader, youth group leader, deacon, and a preacher too.  I've been a part of lots of different types of church in the places I've lived and prayed in a wide variety of Christian ways.

In 2011 things started to change for me.  In a moment of total rebellion against what I believed to be right I read a book I believed to be heretical.  I had been taught the author was a false teacher.  I firmly believed that his views were not in line with the true meaning of Scripture.  The blame for the downfall of a Christian church movement in the UK was placed at his door because his so-called errors led to people sinning.  And yet I read the book.  The book in question was Original Blessing by Rev. Matthew Fox.  I believe reading it was a crucial part of my development and my finding of a greater freedom.  I also believe that had I not read it I would not have reached the point of accepting myself as transgender and autistic.  Original Blessing was like a light shining from heaven - I believed in a literal heaven then.  In the years following there were many more lights both from within and without Christianity.

In 2016 I gave up a few things that I had held as central to my life for 25 years:

• Church attendance
• Any belief in a supreme deity we call God
• The title of "Christian"

And yet I am still pretty obsessed by the subjects of Jesus, spirituality, and Christian teachers.  I can't quite seem to let it go.  Not yet.  I'm autistic - I need a special interest!  Even if it's one I no longer believe in.

This blog is part of what it means to me to not let go, to continue to struggle with this man called Jesus.  I have decided to take another look at the Gospels as recorded in the New Testament and see if they still can be meaningful to me in the life I now choose to live.  And even if they can be meaningful, is there anything there that is both meaningful and which can't be found in many other places.

In short, I want to know whether there is anything left for me in Jesus that is worthy of offering some part of my life.

In the past I could have written lots of expository thoughts on the Gospels and presented them to you in much the manner of a Bishop J. C. Ryle or a William Barclay and added to the piles of soundly evangelical clever volumes.  I used to be able to write sermons very easily and they would be extremely sound doctrinally, full of content and I was frequently told that I was a pretty good preacher.  It would have been no challenge at all to write something sound, based on what I thought I knew, and bolstered by the wisdom of a dozen different commentaries most of which happened to agree with me.

It's harder now.  I do not have the certainty of doctrines and dogmas.  I do not have an orthodox Christian theology at the core of my life.  I don't have all those commentaries to refer to because I cleared them out.  I don't even have theism and, it must be admitted, there is apparently a lot of theism in the Gospel stories.  How can I even approach them honestly when I don't even believe in God?

Nevertheless, I want to attempt this.  These are the godless Gospels.  What I write, I hope, isn't going to be some angry rant against Christianity and its sins and perceived sins.  I'm not one of the bitter fundamentalist new-atheists slamming all theists for their stupidity.  I recognise that there is much hidden away in Christian spirituality that is of merit.  It just often got swamped by dogma and especially by those twin evil doctrines of original sin and exclusivism.  Those two siblings conspired together to create a picture of a human race deserving eternal damnation and a hopelessness apart from correct belief and surrender to Jesus.  I also happen to believe that moving past the traditional doctrines of theism would be a good idea.  I'm just not going to tell you you're insane or an idiot if you happen to disagree with me.

I still read Christian writers sometimes.  Online and in print.  It's just that I don't choose to consider those who preach the twin evils as worthy of my time.  I spent decades believing them and I believe it's a 'miracle' that I reject them now.

The authors I now read or would consider reading range from bishops to outcasts.

• Matthew Fox and the followers of creation spiritualities.  Matthew Fox was the first writer I read who led me away from original sin and into a much more beautiful life.
• Bishop John Shelby Spong, John Dominic Crossan, Marcus Borg, Brian McLaren and those more aligned with Progressive Christianity.
• Jim Palmer.  I love Jim Palmer.  A man who rejected his Christianity.  A man who rejected Jesus.  A man who now writes about and talks about Jesus all the time and has found a Jesus who is, for him at least, worth following.
• Michael Benedikt and those who teach Theopraxy.
• Those who look to a more gnostic Jesus such as Timothy Freke and others who would quote the Nag Hammadi library and other texts.
• Non-theist or atheist Christians such as Rev. Gretta Vosper.
• Various of the mystical teachers of Christianity - Julian of Norwich, Hildegard of Bingen, Meister Eckhart and others of today or the past.
• Christian meditation teachers such as John Main and Laurence Freeman.
• Bede Griffiths and others who find the light of Spirit in many places.
• The wisdom that comes from the Quaker movement, especially seen in modern British writings and in the wonderful book of Quaker Faith and Practice.

Honest. I am an ex-Christian.  You might not guess it from that list but it is the truth.

The list isn't exclusive.  I have other authors of Christian books on my shelves still.  I cleared out most of their works but still have enough to fill a tall bookcase.  Since rejecting the exclusivity of Jesus and walking further away from Christianity I've also been gathering books on other spiritual paths too - Buddhism, Hinduism, Sufism and so on, alongside more esoteric works.

So much to read, so little time and concentration!  Maybe it doesn't matter.  Whatever God is or isn't, whatever Spirit is and Love is and Light is you can be pretty sure that they are not a book and that their essence isn't to be contained in clever words on a page.  The Taoist teaching is correct I believe that God or reality or truth is unnameable.  Maybe any positive words about the infinite ground of being place too many limits and we can only say for certain what God is not.  "No name is sufficient, and all names together still fall short," as Islam teaches us.  In Islam there are ninety-nine names for God.  Maybe one day I'll consider them from a non-theist perspective.

You will spot that I still use the word God.  However, I am not a theist.  I am not talking about a person and I have no supreme being to pray to.  Try not to be confused!

So this blog will present, when I have the inclination to add to it, my views on the four Gospels.  It's not going to be an academic treatise.  It's not going to have any weight of scholarship to it at all.  At least I don't think it is.

What it's more likely to be primarily is something arising both from my own thoughts and from a process akin to Lectio Divina - that particularly prayerful method of reading the Scriptures and listening to see what Spirit says about it.  Lectio Divina isn't a systematic theology.  It doesn't need to know minor textual variants or what a famous saint or preacher or theologian had to say.  Lectio is ideally the deep speaking with the deep and in that place finding life.

As I sit with the words I'll be using various translations - I think very often I'll sit with the Catholic Comparative New Testament which contains eight different translations side by side.  I may also refer to the cross references in the Thompson Chain Reference and maybe even in Torrey's Treasury of Scripture Knowledge if I feel that way inclined.  For a fundamentalist comparison I still own a Dake Annotated Study Bible.  And if I get too confused about things I'm sure I can find something on my shelves or a word of wisdom.

But my main guide will be the words in front of me, together with some of the thoughts that arise from sitting with those words so many times before and now sitting with them in a different way, and together too with the process of sitting and listening.  I want my teacher to be the revelation that comes through silence.

One other thing you need to know is that I don't believe that I have to agree with the Bible.  I believe it contains textual errors and propaganda.  I believe it contains views from the past that might have been useful once but which would be very unwise to adhere to today.  And I believe wholeheartedly that the people who wrote the book, while seeking after truth, got it wrong.

When we read in the Old Testament how people said God called for genocide the only wise course of action is to say that no supreme being ever called for genocide and that people, in their religious and nationalistic zeal and sometimes in their desperation to survive, got it very wrong.  And we can leave it like that.  They were people.  Fallible.  Sometimes screwing up completely.  And they wrote their scrolls for their own reasons.

God did not write a book for us.  That's my dogmatic statement right there: God didn't write the Bible.  Whatever I may write in this blog arises at least in part from that one belief.  Be warned.  If you believe he wrote it so we have to believe it, if you believe he called for genocide and other evils, then we're going to disagree.  I don't mind disagreement.  Philosophy - the love of wisdom - is at least in part built on disagreement.

I hope that this process is rewarding and revealing and is profitable to my life.  And I hope, since I'm going to be typing about it all - unless I get fed up with the project or it still hurts too much - that somewhere along the line you will find something rewarding and revealing too.