Dark Side of the Moonies

A few days ago I blogged about meeting a Moonie evangelist outside the GPO in Dublin. I was polite. She was perplexing. The meeting spawned some research on my part and I now regret my civil tone.

It seems her Messiah said the 6 million Jews that died in the holocaust were paying their just indemnity for killing Christ., and that they had to suffer for 2,000 years as a result.

Like many religious leaders, he reserves his greatest opprobrium for those who love people of the same gender. In a world where every psychopath and mass murder is the fruit of heterosexual relationship I find the logic confusing.

The official church website employs hamfisted alliteration  in its description of homosexuals as dirty dung eating dogs. He longs for the day when [t]here will be a purge on God's orders, and evil will be eliminated like shadows. Gays will be eliminated ... If not then they will be burned. We do not know what kind of world God will bring but this is what happens. It will be greater than the communist purge but at God's orders.

Debating creationists in Dublin

Anthony Brazabon, Dublin street preacher, blogger and podcast host is disappointed at the lack of debate on young earth creationism.
So I've volunteered my services.
I'll let you know if he gets back to me.

Book Review: God's Undertaker

It's easy to view creationists through the lens of caricature. From Dr Kent's belief that dinosaurs died out due to spontaneous nasal combustion, to the belief that the 300 mile Grand Canyon formed in about five minutes, we can find instances of claims that would have to work hard to be considered merely absurd. But still, it is perhaps unfair to judge a group based on the worst of its members. Though I have yet to hear good creationist arguments I do know smart creationists. With that in mind I was quite happy to receive a recommendation to read Professor John Lennox's book on the subject, God's Undertaker.

I went in with high hopes - my initial readings on evolution were prompted back in 2003, when I studied evolutionary computation. Lennox's background in mathematics would surely mean he could speak with authority on this area.

He was born on the same island as I, a coincidence of birth which admittedly does not make him more likely to be correct, but caused me to warm to him nonetheless.

He's also a talented linguist, speaking Russian, German, Spanish and French in addition to his native English. He has been published and has given lectures in many languages.

Storytelling (Van der Broek and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission)

The more astute among you will have recognised that this blog originally started as a venue for my short stories. If pushed, I'll jokingly refer to myself as a failed writer.

Still, stories are important. They enable us to share our understanding of this world, impart important lessons and simplify topics to convey important details. Sometimes artistic licence is used. Sometimes some facts are sacrificed to make the story more memorable, or to take students to a more accurate picture of real world phenomena.

One example is atoms. In school I learned that electrons orbit the nucleus in much the same way as a planet orbits a star. This is a very useful way of thinking about atoms, but it's also wrong - the electron is more of a fuzzy cloud.

I've spoken to many biblical inerrantists, but I've yet to encounter one who thinks that the parable of the prodigal son involved an actual son, father, fatted calf and brother.

We can look at stories that are fiction, but intended to convey an important message. We can also look at stories that are thought to hold factual accuracy in the highest regard. Today I'd like to look at a story that seems to have jumped between the two categories.

Does God heal today?

*Edit: Ajay Gohil sent me a very polite e-mail confirming his existence and inviting me for coffee. Bear that in mind while reading - it rather annihilates many of my arguments. I've asked him if he's comfortable with me releasing details of his church and will update with more details when he gets back to me. My thanks to the members of Unbelievable? who pointed me in his direction.*

This is the title of the 13th chapter in Nicky Gumbel’s “Alpha: Questions of Life” book and it appeals to my literal mind. It can be rare to find verifiable claims in this literary genre; it was refreshing to see Gumbel nail his colours to the mast as a believer in faith healing and to provide a case study for those who are unconvinced.

For those of you who don’t know the Alpha course is a charismatic introduction to Christianity, typically held over several evenings. Bear Grylls speaks highly of it. I speak highly of it. You’ll meet pleasant people, get free dinner and interesting conversation. I have issues with the accuracy of some of the course material, but not with the genuine, good-natured people I met on the course. I even enjoyed Nicky Gumbel's jokes and am somewhat jealous of his rhetorical skills. One of the evenings includes a discussion of faith healing, and the story of interest begins with “There are so many wonderful stories of God healing that it is difficult to know which to give as an example.”

Over the Moonies

I am fortunate enough that my commute takes me through a marketplace of ideas every day. iERA frequently run a stall on Islam outside the General Post Office. There’s a Christian street preacher and creationist on Wednesdays and Thursdays called Dessie with whom I’ve had many pleasant chats, and a stressed looking chap in Hare Krishna garb selling books on the benefits of meditation. Recently proponents of presidential candidates have attempted to engage passers by in conversation.

I've spotted a new addition, a small, woven basket that Moses would have found cramped, containing perhaps four books written by or on the Reverend Sun Myung Moon with a sign saying “Messiah? You Decide!” Suspended a convenient four foot or so above the ground, it’s attended by a pamphlet distributing member of the Unification Church – a Moonie, to you or I.

My fellow pedestrians seemed to be voting unanimously with their feet as to the Christology of the basket occupant. I decided to hear her out.

Tick Tock

Vinnie Tuscavedo was the sort of guy that would hand a girl a five dollar bill with which to buy him a pack smokes, and tell her to use the change to pick up something 'nice' for herself. Then, if she came home without a new dress, he'd smack her around for disrespecting his generosity.

He was worse with us men. He’d scream and holler, leaping out of bed to take a swing. His mind was still locked in the sixties. I’m not talking about tie-dyed t-shirts and the summer of love here, I’m talking race riots, and Vinnie wasn’t backing the winning side. Vinnie’s an angry man with angry ideas. Over the years we learned to only send in white nurses with his meals, and to have a few of us guys waiting outside with sedatives in case anything kicks off.

That’s why I only see him when he’s sedated, or about to be sedated. We’ve never had a conversation and he’s never said a civil word to me. Everyone else looks peaceful when they’re knocked out, but Vinnie’s different. The hate in him has a knack of staying awake. His hands twitch into fists every couple of minutes. Makes his watch jangle. I swear I’ve seen the hair on his knuckles stand up, and his wrinkles are so deep he’s always frowning. Aggressive breathing too; sounds like he’s growling. He’s got a full head of white hair, so thick you’d never see his scars. Life aint fair. I’ve been going bald since I hit twenty, and this guy who’d as soon throw a punch as say hello aint even thinning yet.