Literally.

It took an actual mental breakdown for me to start thinking about the Bible critically.

Didn’t change my beliefs at all until I was in the freaking mental hospital.

This verse is allegedly God’s instructions to Moses.

Leviticus 25:44-46New International Version (NIV)

44 “‘Your male and female slaves are to come from the nations around you; from them you may buy slaves. 45 You may also buy some of the temporary residents living among you and members of their clans born in your country, and they will become your property. 46 You can bequeath them to your children as inherited property and can make them slaves for life, but you must not rule over your fellow Israelites ruthlessly.

This is why I get so a;lskdfjpewoij ANGRY when my parents insist on believing a literal interpretation of the Bible.  I remember being in the hospital, reading through the old testament, and I was absolutely horrified at what the Israelites were doing.  I remember telling myself, “God never told anyone this.  They were lying.” as I watched them kill all the women and children, except the virgins which they saved for themselves.  I was horrified on a visceral level, my whole body recoiled. Bear in mind, that I had read the Bible through cover-to-cover twice and I never saw anything wrong with these types of passages before.   When I told my mother about the Bible horrifying me like that, she hinted that it was the work of demons.   These demons mysteriously didn’t taint my reading of any of the Jesus parts of the Bible.   Hmm.

I’m supposed to believe that the supreme being of the universe wants me to marry my rapist.

I can’t understand how I was so blind before.  I was intelligent.  Don’t know how I swallowed that so long.  Was drilled into my brain I guess.  There are parts of the bible that are absolutely horrifying, and I am appalled that I was able take it all as real, logical, and infallible.

On many levels I think I needed a mental breakdown to stop being the self-righteous, sanctimonious bigot that I was.  Gah, sometimes my early behavior is absolutely mortifying.

I think I wrote a paper just before I went nuts on why being gay is unethical according to Utilitarianism.  Seriously.

If all it took was a {complete breakdown} and loss of reputation followed by six months of depression to make me into someone worth hanging out with then I count myself as lucky.

{So much in those brackets}.

So I really don’t know what’s coming.  Death and all, and what comes after.  I’m pretty chill with not knowing.   I believe in Love.  I’m still a big fan of Jesus, but I don’t need him to be real to live with compassion and kindness.   It does kinda hurt that my parents can’t be okay with that.

It’s disturbing to me that for some, the only measure for whether you failed as a parent is if your kid is going to hell.

Doesn’t matter if they are kind, loving, compassionate.  They don’t agree with the same doctrines you do, so you failed.

Glad my own children won’t have to deal with that expectation.

 

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