Disbelief is not following God

a reply to: Raggedyman

Except that you didn't.
You just showed everybody how dumb and insane you are.

Am I Pope Gregory I now, in your fantasy world?

originally posted by: Peeple
a reply to: Raggedyman

To point out it's not as clear cut as you want it to be. I have no issue admitting I don't know. The problem is you think you do and that's just not true and not possible.

I can live by the example of Jesus, according to scripture and have a relationship with prostitutes, be a master necromancer and make trees wither along the path.

If you don't see the problem with that, I don't know what else to say.

This is what I am holding you accountable for Peeps, just prove either and we can walk away or admit you havnt a clue what you are talking about
Simple

a reply to: Raggedyman

I did that.

Lazarus
Magdalene
The fig tree

I can repeat that a few hundred times if you insist.

a reply to: Raggedyman

I will re-quote:

Considerable debate has discussed the identity of the woman, the location, timing, and the message.

Hold on. Let me get my Bible out.
Matthew 26

8When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked. 9“This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.”

10Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. 11The poor you will always have with you, a but you will not always have me. 12When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. 13Truly I tell you, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

It's like the whole story falls apart without this woman being remembered.

What if Theology itself hinges upon remembering this woman?

What is Theology but remembering this woman?

Many people have not met this woman( that they are aware of ), and yet aspire to remember her.

a reply to: pthena

No Pthena, I am not into gnosticism
It’s not for me to tell you what to believe, to me it’s a lady who Knew who and what Jesus was
Not a prostitute, not some mother God, just a simple sinner showing God her love the best and only way possible for her to express herself

a reply to: Raggedyman

... to me it’s a lady who Knew who and what Jesus was
Not a prostitute,

There is this poem I wrote once, Orphans, and someone asked me:

Well perhaps were they looking for the same mother?

I was walking down the empty street of my town.
My fiancé had just recently taken off with a guy she met in a bar.
The first line came to me, "They met one night in the pouring rain"

Then an ex-friend of my very good friend T____ came toward me diagonally crossing the street. She started complaining to me about how T___ had stolen her boyfriend from her. I let her have her whole say; get it all out.

Then I said, "I'm sure glad I don't have a boyfriend for T___ to steal from me, because then I might have some problems staying friends with her."

She gave me a very strange look, like she wasn't sure that she had heard what she had just heard. She walked slowly away, occasionally looking back at me, to see if I was really there rather than some hallucination or other.

Then, as I continued walking slowly down the empty street of my town, I finished the poem in my head.

The thing is, T___ was actually a prostitute. I spent many a night at her place. In the same bed even. We never did what you would expect, "because," she said, "I know you. And I know what it would cost me." And so we stayed friends.

One day, she died.
I remember her.

a reply to: pthena

That’s beautiful mate, a bit Doc Seussie for me but

I have Jesus and there is no room for a lady who cracked open her perfume bottle.
Good luck with your Gnosticism, enjoy

Forgiveness of sin, starting anew, fresh, a clean slate can make a person grateful

a reply to: Raggedyman

a bit Doc Seussie for me

That's what the critics tell me:

She was coming into town
so I began to worry.
My ex-girlfriend that is,
I needed a plan in a hurry.

And the bartender said, after hearing the whole poem,
"Sounds like Dr Seuss to me."
Then he turns to the bar maid, "Dr Seuss?"

And she said, "Maybe ?" and she winked at me.