A narrow and difficult path

I've been trying to develop a relationship with God, and it's pretty much the most difficult thing I've ever done. Paul summed up the experience pretty well when he said: "Oh miserable man that I am. Who will save me from this body of death?" It's only when you try to do something as important as serving God that you realize just how pathetic you really are. I would give up if that was possible, but it isn't. That's the thing with the truth: it sets you free from lies and delusions, but it also cuts through all your excuses. Once you know, you can't un-know.

But despite the difficulty, knowing that God is real brings me a sense of peace beyond comparison. I have faith that, with or without me, God's purpose will ultimately come to pass, and that is the most wonderful thought imaginable.

Ah but faith - there's the rub! I don't think I can explain it to someone who hasn't been through it, but wrestling with one's faith is core of trying to serve God. It is the central issue that underlies every difficulty you face. It makes you feel like a fool, and a wretch, and an ingrate, crawling back time after time to the One who is constant, and unwavering, perfect and always merciful. I can understand why Jesus said only the meek need apply. There is no room for ego on the path to God.

I've heard unbelievers describe Christians as unthinking "sheep" with "blind faith" in their religion. Maybe for some who profess Christianity, it is that easy. But for me, faith comes with eyes wide open or not all. And there's nothing easy about it.

The ongoing ramble - an excerpt

I started this ramble in a personal, almost confessional tone, and  by the time I stopped it had become almost the opposite, very abstract.  I was going to edit it, but then I decided I like it better as it is. It's more interesting. I stopped writing because I was tired. I do wish I had "finished" it, but I doubt that would have happened anyway. My trains of thought generally don't work that way.  I almost never set out with a definite goal in mind, and I seldom arrive at any final conclusions.  Most times I go simply to enjoy the ride, and do so until I decide the time has come to get off.

The Ramble:

I find it hard to be honest with people because I find it hard to be honest with myself.  It isn't that I lie to myself,l; I just don't know what  the truth is.

Honesty requires a certain degree of certainty, which I just don't have. Ultimately, my problem is a lack of faith.  I have doubts about everything, even about myself and my intentions.

It is a horrid existence, that is at least one thing I'm certain of.  I think many people see faith as no more than a sign of weakness.  In truth, it is a source of strength.  Moreover, faith is the only source of strength, apart from the meaningless fluctuations of nature.

I think there were times when this was understood, but now it is nearly impossible to even express without sounding archaic.   Words like wisdom, fortune, virtue - they refer to a worldview that we have rejected, although in favour of what, we cannot say.

We ridicule these words today.  We dismiss them on the basis that they do not pass our current test of acceptability. They do not meet our standards.  But when asked to identity the candidates who have succeeded, we are silent.

There is a very real practice of constant and perpetual censorship that occurs in all human interaction.

There is an unspoken code governing what can be expressed and what is forbidden.

The code is negotiated between the members of the group involved in the interaction.

The code gives the individuals a feeling of security, because it provides predictability.

Humans are capable of a vast range of wildly varying behaviour.

Unlike animals, we have no biologically fixed patterns of behaviour.  Our complexity and individuality would cause chaos if we had no social codes.

We feel uncomfortable around strangers because we haven't yet established a code, so we cannot predict how the interaction will unfold.

But there is a price for safety.  As individuals, we are also bound by whatever code is established.

The reason we have "friends" is because we favor the particular code we have established with that particular person/persons.

When groups reach a certain size, it becomes necessary to make a physical marker to refer to certain aspects of the code.  This ensures these aspects of the code will not be challenged or subverted.  Unlike human memory, a physical object is permanent and unchanging.

Written languages, currencies, laws and nations are just highly evolved forms of such markers. The codes they relate to have been negotiated over millenia and involve billions of individuals.

The enlightenment witnessed a challenge to certain codes on the basis that they obstructed the progress of scientific discovery.  The enlightenment challenge was based on the notion that reason is distinct from codes.  Reason is somehow separate.  It is like a physical marker that exists everywhere and nowhere.

Introduction, or "What's up with these random blog posts anyways?"

     This is my first post on Random Thoughts... , which is itself my first blog (not counting one or two half-hearted website attempts I made about a thousand years ago, when the internet was still powered by string, tin cans, and smoke signals, and I was still a bumbling, foolhardy man-child, who meant well but really didn't know anything about anything).  As such, it shall serve as an introductory explanation of the blog as a whole, its nature, themes, origins and intended purpose.  My reasoning is that if at some point in the very distant future, another living being besides myself stumbles upon one of my yet-to-be-written posts, that being may become curious as to the context of said post.  "Who wrote this?" they may wonder, "and why?"   It is for the benefit of this hypothetical being that the present post was written.

     So firstly, who am I?  Well, if you have read the "Introduction" blurb on my profile, you will know that I'm actually rather reluctant to say much on the subject of my own personal identity.  The reason is not so much a desire for the safety of anonymity, but rather a fear of inviting speculation on matters which I strongly believe are at best irrelevant and at worst misleading.  Within the context of this blog, it does not matter who I am or what I do "in real life".  If a piece of writing is amusing, or compelling, or true, then it remains so regardless of who wrote it.  Judging ideas on the basis of who has expressed them is known as the ad hominem fallacy, and it's an ineffective and unkind method of communication.  By remaining anonymous, I maximize the chances that what I write here will be read and considered objectively and without unwarranted bias.

     Second, I'd like to address the question of what exactly this blog is about.  What is its subject? What is the theme running through and connecting all of the individual entries that will (hopefully) be posted here?  The short answer is that there isn't one.  This blog has no particular subject.  It isn't about any one thing. There is also a much longer answer, but I will save that for a possible future post.

     Finally I want to explain why I created this blog, and how I intend to use and develop it.  I am incurably creative.  The activity of making - whether literally in the physical world, or symbolically with images, words or thoughts - is as necessary for my continued existence as water or air.  I cannot imagine life without it.  Not a single day passes without me spending time engaged in some form of creative thought or action.  This blog is a place for me to record some of the residue of that activity.  It's like a form of mental recycling, I suppose.  I know I'm going to do the writing anyway, and if I share some of it on the internet, it may do someone some good.

     With that in mind, my advice to potential visitors is to treat this blog much as you would a yard sale: scan the offerings and pick whatever strikes you as useful or interesting.  There's no charge, but any donation of kind words is always appreciated.