posted on Sep, 23 2010 @ 09:23 PM
To Sheepslayer:
Interesting is a good word to describe it. The way I see it things happen that are beyond our control and what occurs is unavoidable and inevitable.
Children are a mystery to me. They are pure and innocent but that fades quickly as if it was an illusion from the start. From my experience, as a
child I was one way, a youth another way, and as an adult I am the way I'll continue to be for the rest of my life. Beyond that explanation I dare
not tread.
To IAMIAM
"People talk sometimes of bestial cruelty, but that's a great injustice and insult to the beasts; a beast can never be so cruel as a man, so
artistically cruel."
-Dostoevsky
As far as the redemption of man... I don't believe redemption exists because sin doesn't exist for me. What others may call sin, a deviation from
an idealistic mode of life with Christ as an example, I call their fate or their inevitable recourse to the overwhelming aspects of life. For
instance, if I put a man in a terrible situation, especially from birth, so that he knows nothing but sinful behaviors I can't blame him for
responding to these conditions the only way a person would know how, by assimilation. It is either that or destruction and I would be a cruel God to
judge men unfairly or command that they seek destruction or an impossible standard of behaviors.
If I did believe in the abstract and remote possibility of redemption to reconcile the absurd amount of suffering in life my mental health would be in
bad shape.
Your post reminded me of the entirety of The Brothers Karamazov as it only discusses sin and redemption.
Redemption to me is like this excerpt from the book:
"
I have a charming pamphlet, translated from the French, describing how, quite recently, five years ago, a murderer, Richard, was executed- a
young man, I believe, of three and twenty, who repented and was converted to the Christian faith at the very scaffold. This Richard was an
illegitimate child who was given as a child of six by his parents to some shepherds on the Swiss mountains. They brought him up to work for them. He
grew up like a little wild beast among them. The shepherds taught him nothing, and scarcely fed or clothed him, but sent him out at seven to herd the
flock in cold and wet, and no one hesitated or scrupled to treat him so. Quite the contrary, they thought they had every right, for Richard had been
given to them as a chattel, and they did not even see the necessity of feeding him. Richard himself describes how in those years, like the Prodigal
Son in the Gospel, he longed to eat of the mash given to the pigs, which were fattened for sale. But they wouldn't even give that, and beat him when
he stole from the pigs. And that was how he spent all his childhood and his youth, till he grew up and was strong enough to go away and be a thief.
The savage began to earn his living as a day labourer in Geneva. He drank what he earned, he lived like a brute, and finished by killing and robbing
an old man. He was caught, tried, and condemned to death. They are not sentimentalists there. And in prison he was immediately surrounded by pastors,
members of Christian brotherhoods, philanthropic ladies, and the like. They taught him to read and write in prison, and expounded the Gospel to him.
They exhorted him, worked upon him, drummed at him incessantly, till at last he solemnly confessed his crime. He was converted. He wrote to the court
himself that he was a monster, but that in the end God had vouchsafed him light and shown grace. All Geneva was in excitement about him- all
philanthropic and religious Geneva. All the aristocratic and well-bred society of the town rushed to the prison, kissed Richard and embraced him;
'You are our brother, you have found grace.' And Richard does nothing but weep with emotion, 'Yes, I've found grace! All my youth and childhood I
was glad of pigs' food, but now even I have found grace. I am dying in the Lord.' 'Yes, Richard, die in the Lord; you have shed blood and must die.
Though it's not your fault that you knew not the Lord, when you coveted the pigs' food and were beaten for stealing it (which was very wrong of you,
for stealing is forbidden); but you've shed blood and you must die.'And on the last day, Richard, perfectly limp, did nothing but cry and repeat
every minute: 'This is my happiest day. I am going to the Lord.' 'Yes,' cry the pastors and the judges and philanthropic ladies. 'This is the
happiest day of your life, for you are going to the Lord!' They all walk or drive to the scaffold in procession behind the prison van. At the
scaffold they call to Richard: 'Die, brother, die in the Lord, for even thou hast found grace!' And so, covered with his brothers' kisses, Richard
is dragged on to the scaffold, and led to the guillotine. And they chopped off his head in brotherly fashion, because he had found grace.
"