I remarked some time back that I understand how foul the taste when someone or something we trust betrays us. I can't say I'd be a Christian if I'd been assaulted by someone protected by a role in the church.
If you've gotten sick on liver, the last thing you ever want to eat again is liver, but it's possible to prepare liver so it tastes so much like beef you don't even know you're eating it, and of course you get whatever nutritional value it has to offer without the gastronomical histrionics.
Ideas and behaviors can work that way too, sometimes insidiously, but often not, hence medicine with a spoonful of sugar, Sesame Street, or church gymnasiums and hymns and potlucks.
I'm privately indignant at those who preach you must not only believe, but understand why you believe. It's probably the most trivial distinction among Christians I can think of and has led to the most anxiety and disillusionment.
But it does no harm so long as it corrals instead of collects.
[2014-05-03]
c0
We're often introduced to something new through something we already like - the B side of a music single, a fat impenetrable book by a favorite writer, a new language spoken by someone we meet, a religion practiced by someone we respect, an idea held by someone we regard as insightful.
Everyone can easily recall something. For me it was broccoli buried under a mound of melted cheddar cheese.
It was an easy solution to get a kid to eat mutant alien vegetables.
[2014-06-20]
c0
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