ColdHardTruth's Posts
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malvisguy212:bros, a simple yes or no question is what I asked o! can you know if someone else is a Christian? or not? |
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4everGod:you mean those who stay deluded to the end
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DeSepiero:and they keep asking for forgiveness of sin, I wonder what they are before asking for it, probably atheist? |
malvisguy212:very true, that means you can only know if YOU are a Christian, right? just answer that, I'm heading somewhere |
JackBizzle:hilarious, isn't it? |
orisa37:fiction |
ifenes:good reply, no need answering him though he manufactures WhatsApp conversations of saving someone by showing Jesus to him/her, uses his multiple monickers to that effect such people don't deserve truth |
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I used to dance naked in front of lots of people pretty regularly. No, it’s not what you think. There were no poles, and no money involved. This was a spiritual service, believe it or not. You see, for about seven years, I was one of the high priestesses in a local coven of Pagans. Within the coven, we had a special affinity group of women who professed an abiding love for “the goddess” and vowed to serve her by providing meaningful rituals and ceremonies for other women. Think “learn to let your inner goddess shine” at the Summer Solstice, and stuff like that. We performed almost all of our rituals “skyclad.” That’s witch-speak for “naked.” Although, in order to picture this correctly, you should imagine us wearing lots of decorations, like glitter, jewelry, crowns, or maybe a headdress. So, now that you’re familiar with my weird spiritual past, let’s travel back in time together. We priestesses had all gone together to a retreat deep in the woods of Santa Cruz, where we helped perform a ceremony for hundreds of women. Twelve weeks pregnant, I danced naked around a bonfire, surrounded by hundreds of women sitting in bleachers under a starlit sky, framed all around by majestic redwood trees. We spurred the women on to ecstatic experiences, encouraging them to trance into a deeper notion that they are a manifestation of the goddess. The idea was to empower them, and to display our whole-hearted acceptance of our bodies as part of nature, glorious and free. The ritual was intense, as they tended to be, and in it, I was overjoyed knowing that the baby inside me had danced with me to the drums and so many voices lifted in song. Afterwards, I, wearing only a skirt and shoes, walked back to my cabin in the dark, feeling like I could be or do anything, which was good, because I was called to action right away. A friend of mine, one of the witches, knocked on my door and asked me if I could go check her cabin for raccoons. She was afraid to be in there unless someone could make sure there were no wild nocturnal guests waiting to chew off her face. Half-naked in my doorway, I listened to her, and mentally assessed the situation. It occurred to me that raccoons might be rabid, so we might need to interface with a park ranger soon, and, if that was the case, I’d need to put some clothes on. So I said, “Hold on, let me grab a shirt,” then went into my cabin to do just that. I also grabbed a broom. I marched over to her cabin, went inside clutching the broom, ready to use it to evict any creatures, but verified that no raccoons were waiting in there. When I came out, my friend and a few other women were laughing hysterically. When they saw how confused I was, my friend explained, “How could a shirt protect you from a crazed raccoon?” They’d thought I wanted a shirt for a shield. Everyone thought it was super funny, and we told and retold that story for years. Everything is different now, though. I gave up on all of that, and, unfortunately, lost most of my friends in the process. You see, back in college, I took a lot of psychology courses, including the basics of conducting psychological research. When you’re a researcher, you’ve got to be really careful not to allow what you want to be true to influence your conclusions, because, if you do, then your research is basically worth a hill of beans. When testing reality, it’s so easy to allow your own beliefs and biases to influence what you see, then convince yourself that what you see proves what you believe. It happens to all of us in everyday life, too, especially when it comes to religion. It’s beyond easy to fool ourselves into subscribing to whatever spiritual path floats our boat, if wanting to believe colors our perception. I never forgot my early lessons in testing reality, and there was always a voice in my head saying, “There is a rational explanation for this.” Eventually, I grew interested in learning about logical fallacies and cognitive biases. Logic is the best cure I know of for superstition, and, so, my world shifted forever. Today, I no longer dance naked, singing in exaltation to the goddess. I no longer believe in any religion, having already tried several. Though I don’t, as the astrophysicist Jason Wright put it, “...begrudge anyone their succor against existential darkness.” (http://sites.psu.edu/astrowright/2015/05/23/faith-doubt-and-science/ ) Everyone is welcome to their religions and spiritual ideologies, assuming they don’t hurt anyone, but I no longer believe any of it. For me, there are no miracles. There are no gods. Now, I’m naked in a different way. Now, I’m doing my best to look directly at the natural world, to see what is really there. There is no divine cloak to comfort me. To decorate my experience with magical thinking does, to my mind now, a profound disservice to nature. The objectively real world, the one you and I can both see and touch together, is plenty mysterious. It is beautiful and inspiring - just as much as anything we could ever imagine. There is concrete work to do, with more impact than any prayer can offer. As far as you go with it, there is always more to learn, more to see, more to contemplate, more good to create. I miss my friends. The absence of community is sometimes heart-wrenching. However, I can acknowledge that the only true friends I had are the few who have stuck by me through this process, and to them I am devoted. Now, my clothes are on, but my mind is bared to the universe. It is enough. source: https://m.reddit.com/r/atheism/comments/4tzk9x/naked_my_story_of_changing_from_a_pagan_to_an/
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4everGod:you try villainously to cover your own lack of understanding by accusing someone else of lacking it quote me when you have something better to say |
someone desperately wants to see my dick can these Christians tell us where bestiality is condemned in the new testament? |
Touchnot01:we atheists just expose holes in religion and god idea don't be butthurt we just tell you guys the coldhardtruth
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PastorAIO:agreed especially in a place like Nigeria, I wouldn't say "Christianity" but religion as a whole |
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Amal Farah, a 32-year-old banking executive, is laughing about a contestant singing off-key in the last series of The X Factor. For a woman who was not allowed to listen to music when she was growing up, this is a delight. After years of turmoil, she is in control of her own life. On the face of it, she is a product of modern Britain. Born in Somalia to Muslim parents, she grew up in Yemen and came to the UK in her late teens. After questioning her faith, she became an atheist and married a Jewish lawyer. But this has come at a cost. When she turned her back on her religion, she was disowned by her family and received death threats. She has not seen her mother or her siblings for eight years. None of them have met her husband or daughter. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done – telling my observant family that I was having doubts. My mum was shocked; she began to cry. It was very painful for her. When she realised I actually meant it, she cut communication with me,” said Ms Farah. “She was suspicious of me being in contact with my brothers and sisters. She didn’t want me to poison their heads in any way. I felt like a leper and I lived in fear. As long as they knew where I was, I wasn’t safe.” This is the first time Ms Farah has spoken publicly about her experience of leaving her faith, after realising that she did not want to keep a low profile for ever. She is an extreme case – her mother, now back in Somalia, has become increasingly radical in her religious views. But Ms Farah is not alone in wanting to speak out. It can be difficult to leave any religion, and those that do can face stigma and even threats of violence. But there is a growing movement, led by former Muslims, to recognise their existence. Last week, an Afghan man is believed to have become the first atheist to have received asylum in Britain on religious grounds. He was brought up as a Muslim but became an atheist, according to his lawyers, who said he would face persecution and possibly death if he returned to Afghanistan. In more than a dozen countries people who espouse atheism or reject the official state religion of Islam can be executed under the law, according to a recent report by the International Humanist and Ethical Union. But there is an ongoing debate about the “Islamic” way to deal with apostates. Broadcaster Mohammed Ansar says the idea that apostates should be put to death is “not applicable” in Islam today because the act was traditionally conflated with state treason. Some scholars point out that it is against the teachings of Islam to force anyone to stay within the faith. “The position of many a scholar I have discussed the issue with is if people want to leave, they can leave,” said Shaykh Ibrahim Mogra, the assistant secretary general of the Muslim Council of Britain. “I don’t believe they should be discriminated against or harmed in any way whatsoever. There is no compulsion in religion.” Baroness Warsi, the Minister of State for Faith and Communities, agreed. “One of the things I’ve done is put freedom of religion and belief as top priority at the Foreign Office,” she said. “I’ve been vocal that it’s about the freedom to manifest your faith, practise your faith and change your faith. We couldn’t be any clearer. Mutual respect and tolerance are what is required for people to live alongside each other.” Yet, even in Britain, where the freedom to change faiths is recognised, there is a growing number of people who choose to define themselves by the religion they left behind. The Ex-Muslim Forum, a group of former Muslims, was set up seven years ago. Then, about 15 people were involved; now they have more than 3,000 members around the world. Membership has reportedly doubled in the past two years. Another affiliated group, the Ex-Muslims of North America, was launched last year. Their increasing visibility is controversial. There are those who question why anyone needs to define themselves as an “ex-Muslim”; others accuse the group of having an anti-Muslim agenda (a claim that the group denies). Maryam Namazie, a spokeswoman for the forum – which is affiliated with the Council of Ex-Muslims of Britain (CEMB) – said: “The idea behind coming out in public is to show we exist and that we’re not going anywhere. A lot of people feel crazy [when they leave their faith]; they think they’re not normal. The forum is a place to meet like-minded people; to feel safe and secure.” Sulaiman (who does not want to reveal his surname), a Kenyan-born 32-year-old software engineer living in East Northamptonshire, lost his faith six years ago. His family disowned him. “I knew they would have to shun me,” he said. “They are a religious family from a [close] community in Leicester. If anyone [finds out] their son is not a Muslim, it looks bad for them.” He added that people “find it strange” that he meets up with ex-Muslims, but he said it is important to know “there is a community out there who care about you and understand your issues”. Another former Muslim in her late twenties, who does not want to be named, said the “ex-Muslim” identity was particularly important to her. “Within Islam, leaving [the religion] is inconceivable. [The term] atheist doesn’t capture my struggle,” she said, adding that her family does not know the truth about how she feels. Pakistani-born Sayed (not his real name), 51, who lives in Leeds, lost his faith decades ago. He left home at 23 and moved between bedsits to avoid family members who were looking for him. He told his family about his atheism only two years ago. “I was brought up a strict Muslim, but one day, I realised there was no God,” he said. He told his mother and sister by letter that he was an atheist but they found it difficult to comprehend. “Whenever I tell my sister or my mum that I am depressed, stressed or paranoid, they say it’s because I don’t pray or read the Koran enough,” he said, adding that he will not go to his mother’s funeral when she dies. “I won’t be able to cope with the stress or the religious prayers. There’s quite a lot of stigma around.” Iranian-born Maryam Namazie, 47, said that it does not have to be this way. Her religious parents supported her decision to leave their faith in her late teens. “After I left, they still used to whisper verses in my ear for safety, but then I asked them not to. There was no pressure involved and they never threatened me,” she said. “If we want to belong to a political party, or religious group, we should be able to make such choices.” Raheem, 26, from London, is another who doesn't wish to use his real name. He has not yet told his parents that he is an atheist. Born into a traditional Pakistani family, he said he knew he didn’t believe in God from the age of 15. “Most people transition out of faith, but I would say I crashed out. It was sudden and it left a big black hole. I found it hard to reconcile hell with the idea that God was beneficent and merciful. “I’m sort of worried what will happen when [my parents] find out. For a lot of older Muslims, to be a Muslim is an identity, whereas, for me, it’s a theological, philosophical position. They might feel they have failed as parents; some malicious people might call them up, gloating about it. Some would see it as an act of betrayal. My hope is that they will eventually forgive me for it.”
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analice107:I'm a guy, I've got a dick |
hopefulLandlord:endorsed lol |
hopefulLandlord:agreed lol |
analice107:your prayers don't work brother |
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