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Here are my responses to get the ball rolling (hopefully!)
1. If you had to define faith, what would you say it is?
I would define faith as a conviction in something that can't be verified (or falsified) by logical or scientific means.
2. Do you consider yourself a person of faith -- one who practices a particular belief?
Not in the sense of my own definition. I practice elements of what others might consider Jewish faith, but to me they are Jewish culture and a way of connecting with my community and ancestors, rather than God. I live my life according to broader beliefs, such as social justice and environmentalism, but I believe that these are logically or scientifically derived convictions and therefore not the same as faith.
3. If so, how do you call that faith, and why is it so important to you? If not, why do you feel that way?
I think that faith is important to many people, and I respect that it can give them comfort and provide them with comfort. But I think that it's either something you have or you don't: there's no way to make yourself believe in a god, and no way to prove his/her/its existence. And of course, much evil has been done in the name of various gods, so I can only respect others' faith if it isn't used in a negative way towards others.
4. Where has your faith journey taken you so far? (Or lack of it?)
I was raised Orthodox Jewish, so obviously I have been on a long journey. I have had faith in my religion, on and off. When I was a child (somewhere between 8 and 10) I thought that the whole thing was a conspiracy just to torment me! Ultimately I was attracted more to the side of religion that emphasized kindness to others (people and animals) rather than the esoterica. When I studied science, I saw God through that. Reading biblical criticism was what began me on a journey of rejecting the existence of God, but it broadened through further reading and discussion with others.
5. Do you think a person can be faithful, doubtful, even fearful in turns and still be a person of faith?
I think that over our lives, we're entitled to change our minds, challenge ideas and still return to them. I think that a true faith community should always welcome back people who have moved away from faith and then moved back to it.
6. In your place of faith, how do you envision the end of this life?
I don't believe in life after death. When anything living dies, the electrical signals within it cease and the molecules it is made up of return to the earth. I guess I believe in a kind of scientific reincarnation, in that those molecules can in turn provide life to other organisms, but it's a physical rebirth, not a spiritual one.
Billie Jean |
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11.01.09 - 3:39 am | #
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1. If you had to define faith, what would you say it is?
Belief in or of something without any way to corroborate it.
2. Do you consider yourself a person of faith -- one who practices a particular belief?
Not anymore 
3. If so, how do you call that faith, and why is it so important to you? If not, why do you feel that way?
Upon scrutiny, the object of my faith, Orthodox Judaism, does not see credible. I could have lived with miracles, etc, but the scientific and historical contradictions to our sacred text, are not cridble too ignore.
4. Where has your faith journey taken you so far? (Or lack of it?)
I'm still struggling to find a replacement for faith.
5. Do you think a person can be faithful, doubtful, even fearful in turns and still be a person of faith?
Yes, I was like that for many years, till me doubts were corroborated. But eventually you hit a tipping point.
6. In your place of faith, how do you envision the end of this life?
When it's over, it's probably over. That's why it's important to live a happy life and not be regrettful at the end. On the other hand, once the end happens, it doesn't really make a diffence, does it?
Baal Habos |
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11.08.09 - 11:14 am | #
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1. Defining Faith
The final question indicates the fact that this question set is concerned with faith of an existential nature. I would define religious faith as the adherence to a set of principles that are based on transmitted teachings and independent of observable phenomena. Furthermore, I would suggest that they possess their own internal logic, and that they take precedence over any observations to the contrary.
2. Being a Person of Faith
I possess faith in the so-called "scientific method". As something of a positivist, I cannot accept that anything beyond the realm of observable phenomena possesses meaning of any relevance. While the totality of our experience is undoubtedly a negligible fraction of the universe, that which lies beyond it is irrelevant by virtue of its unverifiability. This is not the same type of faith as that which I defined above. It is nonetheless an unimpeachable faith, but only by virtue of the fact that evidence to the contrary expands the realm of our observable universe, rather than providing material to be discounted, or for which an 'apology' needs to be made.
3. Importance of my Faith
Rather than suggesting that it is important to me (which denotes conscious choice), I would suggest that it suits my sense of reason, and that it follows logically from my experiences with life. To accept a faith to the contrary would require a conscious choice, and that is not a choice that I am prepared to make.
4. Faith Journey
My "journey", insofar as one can speak objectively about a journey that they are still on, led me initially into Orthodox Judaism, subsequently into ultra-Orthodox Judaism, then back into a fairly emphatic rejection of Judaism altogether. My perspectives these days are somewhat more balanced, but my relationship with "the religion of my fathers" is no less tortured than before. I cannot belong to a tradition that establishes ideals so antithetical to my own, and nor can I accept a set of principles that are anathema to my own personal beliefs. Nonetheless, I also cannot help but view myself from the perspective of the Orthodox Jewish tradition, and the result is less than flattering. I am still in love with ultra-Orthodoxy (despite frequently despising it), and I pine for the simplicity of unadulterated belief. There are days on which I cannot tell whether I wish to worship the Torah or set fire to it, so I continue studying it critically, while ignoring (for the most part) those people whose readings of it are so antithetical to my own.
[cont.]
Simon Holloway |
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11.10.09 - 9:16 pm | #
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[cont.]
5. Questioning Faith
Every intelligent person of faith whom I have ever met has wrestled with his identity, as I do with mine. The only individuals I have encountered whose paths were strewn with rose petals have been brainless and insipid. Their "faith" is emetic and unworthy of consideration. They also tend to be the most dogmatic, and disinclined to hear alternative perspectives. My experiences in an ultra-Orthodox neighbourhood of Jerusalem convinced me that the majority of people fall into the former category, despite the way that things may sometimes seem to those who live within the secular world. Most individuals I met, while their conclusions may have been different to my own, were possessed of sufficient integrity to be plagued with doubts, and to seek confirmation for their faith within the system that it generates.
6. End of Life
When I tread on an ant, I have no doubt that the ant ceases to function in any respect, and whatever happens to be the ant’s version of a consciousness is snuffed like a guttering candle. To suppose otherwise would be contrary to that which the observable universe informs me, and I couldn’t bring myself to accept an alternative hypothesis by mere virtue of the importance of the ant’s life to itself. While humans may be greatly removed from ants, there is only a difference between us in our minds and in the minds of the insects underfoot. A manta ray would not differentiate between humans and ants, just as I don’t draw a “spiritual” distinction between rabbits and echidnae. The banality of our ephemeral existence and the eternal nature of our non-existent state give rise to the need for faith in the first place. “There are no atheists in a fox-hole”, they say, but when a drowning man clutches at straws, his act says nothing for their strength or dependability. On the contrary, it speaks volumes for the desperation of those about to die.
Simon Holloway |
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11.10.09 - 9:16 pm | #
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