Iceland, pt 1

27 Oct.
We arrived at the Keflavik airport, and we were immediately amazed by the sleek architecture and cleanliness of everything. The bathrooms were actual rooms with their own sinks!

Our bus driver welcomed us with a sign that read my name. I felt fancy and a little famous. As he drove us to our bed and breakfast, we got an education. He was hilarious, giving us all sorts of pointers and comedic and well-meaning advice.

He warned us that there was a serious disease spreading in Iceland: everyone who visited gets infected and always wants to come back to Iceland. I told him that I was already infected.

He was from Lithuania, so we chatted in Russian. He referred to Putin as "Putlin," drawing a comparison to Hitler and told us all about Icelandic bananas, some WWII barracks, and the one and only McDonald's burger in Iceland. Apparently this burger has been televised online for the past four years. He said he would never eat one now that he's seen how long this one has lasted.

When he dropped us off, he said (in Russian), "Thank-you for speaking in Russian! I'm going home and telling my brother!"

Our room at the Blue Guesthouse B&B is in a side house they call a bungalow.  We get breakfast in the morning, but this night/morning we just had some cereal. We were exhausted, so we went to bed.  The beds are so comfortable, warm, and smell welcoming and delicious. I don't know how to make a bed smell delicious, but Iceland does!

We slept until 4pm, which is a bummer, but at least now we're well rested!  I woke up with a headache, but a quick walk up the hill with a powerful wind and misting rain. Cleared it right up!

The air smells like sulfur and the ground is soft to walk on. Ascending the hill, we jumped over volcanic rock and puddles of melted snow. At the top we could see the city of Reykjavik to west, mountains to the north, and the Arctic Ocean to the southeast.

We walked back down the hill and happened upon Bus 11, which took us to Laugaveger Street, which is a long brick road with cafés, bars, boutiques, souvenir shops, hostels, and everything in between. The walls are painted with intricate and bright graffiti.

Everyone speaks English here (95%!), so travelling was easy. We stopped at a place called 73 Restaurant and ordered Icelandic beers, Arctic cod, and lamb steak. Everything was delicious! The potato fries were especially yummy.

We ended the night at a coffee shop to use some WiFi and update you all about our trip...

...and to eat waffles. Tasty tasty waffles...

Boston ✈✈✈ Reykjavik

26-27 October

Our trip has officially begun!

We decided to fly cheap as possible. It's uncomfortable, but we're saving at least $1000! Brief overview of "travels to:"

I nearly forgot my coat in the car at Detroit. That would have been bad.

Boston was mostly uneventful as we spent most of the time trying to find socially acceptable places to nap.  We ate breakfast at Dunkin Donuts listening, humouredly, at the almost elegant Boston accents of workers in their mid-morning coffee break.

We walked with the light, chill breeze into downtown, under bridges and by the bay. We watched tourists mockingly defy the power of Great Britain by enthusiastically throwing fake boxes of tea into the river.

To our great luck, we happened upon a park full of red lounge chairs and took a 3 hour nap in the company of other weary travellers and Boston-ers.  The park had community gardens on the edges and delicious, seemingly healthy food carts that lit the air with yummy scents.

The city, from what we briefly saw, seemed clean bright, and beautiful. Maybe I could live there, but I'd feel snobbish and pretentious. Perhaps it's too clean.

We ordered food and got bussed back to the airport where we waited 6 exhausting hours for our delayed flight with WOW airlines, "Iceland's most punctual airline." Our reaction turned from "wow!" to "wow..."

We've already met some interesting people: a family of Ukrainians (who I of course practiced my Russian on), a 1950s BGSU alumni (small world!), and a pair of 30 year olds who looked like they were 20 because they had "good Asian genes." The latter two were interesting until I realized they never were going to stop talking and their seats were so pleasantly and coincidentally right behind ours on our 5 hour flight.

But enough of the griping. We're on the trip of a lifetime! We are about to make our descent to Keflavik airport. We will be welcomed by a beautiful, stark chill and  50 minute bus ride to our B&B in Reykjavik.

So far, every Icelander is perfect and blonde. If the countryside is as beautiful as the people, we're in for a real treat.

The Closet

I have to be honest and real with you all.  And it's really hard, because I know the only people who read this will probably be discouraged by it.  But this is me, and I have to write it.  

I have a "closet" to come out of, and the most terrifying part is that I don't think that I will ever be able to completely come out of it.  That closet is the religious closet: the closet that I was raised in, that I explored, that I defined my life around, that I travelled across the world to live out, and that I argued and sang praises for for years.  It defined me.  It created me and determined how I acted around my friends, what I chose to partake in, and how I thought about myself and my place in the world.

This religious closet is Christianity.  

I cannot with a good conscious call myself a Christian anymore.  I don't feel guilty about it or angry.  I simply lost faith.  I am not really sure how it happened, but it was a slow progression to something that has revealed to me the most freeing life experience.  I had to make a decision, and it was basically this: my life choices will not revolve around Christianity, God, or the Bible.

I am not an atheist, but I also don't really know where I'd fit in the agnostic spectrum, but I will tell you what I do believe.

There might be a God, there might not.  Frankly, I do not care, but if I am going to worship something, it is most likely not going to be the God I read about in the Bible.  There is far too much that I do not agree with.  And trust me, I have done a great deal of studying about this.  I have argued the sides: I know the arguments, I know the Biblical references, and I know the theological standpoints. I simply do not believe it any longer.  I do not want to continue to force myself to believe in something that I constantly have to make arguments or excuses for.  I want to believe truth.

If I am going to worship anything, it is going to be that which is good and true and beautiful.  By worship, I mean: what I am going to spend my time focusing on and studying and centering my life around.  

I love nature. 

I love people.

I love creating beautiful things.

I love exploring.

I love celebrating.

I love having fun.

I love caring about the important things.

I love figuring out what is important.

I love thinking.

I love pursuing wisdom.

I love painting.

I love understanding and the process of understanding.

I love studying.

I love.

And really, I am perfectly content with this.  It is me.  It's who I am, and it's what I am about.  The problem is that there is this closet: not everyone can know about this.  Not everyone can know that this is me.  And I am coming to terms with that, but it is difficult when your family and friends and the people that support you and have defined your life experience may not understand or be able to accept this.

I am completely willing to date a non-Christian man.  

Heck, I'd marry a non-Christian.

I'd live with him without getting married.

I'd have sex if I wanted to.

If I felt like it, I'd date a woman.

I would get drunk.

I would get high.

I would get tattoos and piercings and die my hair blue.

I would swear like a sailor and express myself humorously.

I'd tell a dirty joke.

I do not have moral restraints against these things anymore, but there's a lot of these things that I would do that a lot of people that I love would be pained to see me experience.  But I do not care about those restraints any more, and I am perfectly comfortable and morally okay with doing these things...

...but unfortunately in a closet.  

I am living a double life.  It hurts.

It hurts a lot.

But I am me, and I am content.

Overwhelmed

I usually don't get stressed out, but when I do, it's terrifying.  Right now, I am so far behind in my classwork that I could possibly not pass this class (one of three) that I am taking.  If I fail, it means I don't graduate in December, which is such a heavy burden.  Right now, I must rely and hope that my professor will give me grace on my late assignments.

Tonight, I am pulling an all-nighter.  My heart hurts because I feel as if I failed and lost focus so many times, and it is catching up with me and making my situation close to hopeless.  And my head hurts because I am exhausted and overwhelmed by the amount of French vocabulary and grammar and all sorts of other topics in my head.

And still I must press on.  It's at times like these that I remember what I am working towards.  I get to graduate!  I get a degree that will help me get a job, and then I will pay off loans and be able to spend my time working with orphan children who have had life a whole lot harder than me.  It's hard for me to complain or lose hope when I contrast it with what other people are going through.  And I can go be with them soon if...if I just get this damned French homework done.

Censored

When I am at school, I often watch what I say because I don't want people judging me by my religion and the correlating religious stereotypes.

When I am at home, I watch what I say because I don't want people to think I've completely lost my faith because I don't conform to their stereotypes.

Dvadtsat Dva!

Twenty Two!

Today is my 22nd birthday!  Yay!

When I was younger I loved the number 22.  The number 2 is just so pretty, and having 2 twos right next to each other is superb.

I also thought that 22 year-olds were pretty adultish.

So, here's to a happy, jolly year of "adulthood."  I look forward to it joyously.

Also, this year, I just wanted to share how thankful I am that I got to spend it with my little sister.  I haven't in the past couple years, but we finally got to have our joint birthday celebration.

And let me tell ya, she was born two days before my 13th birthday after YEARS of praying for a little sister for my birthday.  Call it good luck or a blessing: she came home from the hospital on my birthday, and she's the best birthday present I ever received.

Half a glass

Today was emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting, but then I found solace in knowing that I was spiritually content. Knowing who I am and having decided what I am living for makes life a little bit more livable.  Call me an optimist. I guess I'd rather be called a realist, though. I know who I am. I know things can be bad or good but really, things just are. And knowing the essence of a thing and the purpose of it helps understanding. What I am saying is that the glass isn't half full nor is it half empty; it is simply half a glass. Why make something negative or positive out of it? It just is.

Then I realized that this whole question of existence bothers me. Everyone's just trying to figure out the great philosophical question why are we here?  Why? I dunno. And nobody will ever know, so decide. Just decide what your life is for. I did, and I think its why I'm content and why things are alright with my soul.

I aim to end complacency.
I strive to pursue and uphold and admire beauty.
I long to love anyone who needs it.

And often, I fail at my aims, strivings and longings, but I know who I am and know there is hope.

The way I see it is that every moment is an adventure and an investment for more adventures. Each moment can be hard, but it's an investment. A moment can be dull, but an investment. Heck, things can be happy and lead to an adventure.

Just decide to live a life well lived and don't ever give up. If something sucks, make it not suck. Be cliche and be the change you want to see in the world.

End rant.

Pure of Heart

I was once told that I had a pure heart.

Granted, this was from a Nigerian man sitting in front of me on a plane to Ukraine after only a short discussion on my life and dreams.

And, certainly, I would love to say this is true about myself, but rather than pridefully (and hypocritically) claim it, I will set it as a goal.  His words inspired me to think about this idea of purity.

What is purity, especially that of the heart?

My Christian upbringing would tell me that it is an aversion to sexual sin and physical desires: a life unpolluted by worldly cravings.  But I think it is something much more than that.

First, (a small rabbit trail, here) I think sexuality is overdramatized by most of the population, regardless of religious beliefs.  Contrary to popular belief, sex is neither the epitome of evil nor the utmost goal that one can achieve.  It is simply a biological process that is, yes, very vital to our society and personal lives, but really should not be the only aspect of humanity that dictates that one is pure or has a pure heart.

Second, I think purity is something deeper: something we cannot fully understand or achieve.  And purity is not always white and clean.  Something can be pure gold or pure mud.  Pure alcohol, pure blood.

What then is a pure heart - a purity of the soul?  I think it is an individual trait.  Purity shows that someone is not in conflict: a trait that is certainly unattainable.  One cannot be purely good, purely beautiful, nor purely wise without conflict, because we are purely human, and humans have this annoying tendency to cause or live amidst conflict.

Philosophers will debate what it means to be fully human.  For me, I think we each must decide what it means to be purely human, and I have decided to pursue goodness, beauty, and wisdom.  If someone is as good enough to say that I have a pure heart, I might as well try to prove them right.

Perhaps such a decision or such a hope is what that Nigerian man saw in me.  I hope I live a life worthy of this gracious compliment.  One thing is for sure: the conflicts of the future will give me ample opportunity to practice.

Guide to Your Ultimate Hipster Pad

• Must be dimly lit, preferably in an attic or basement.  Main floor is too mainstream
• Have at least 3 maps from big cities or foreign countries
• Art from only local artists
• A pinecone garland (or garland from any nature, really, you must display that you are one with the EARTH)
• Ransack your local antique store for vintage goods such as typewriters, old landscape paintings, and clocks.
• Have a stack of suitcases in varying colors.
• Your furniture must be at least 30 years old.
•  Have an assortment of books on topics, which no one knows about.
•  Have an assortment of aged hardback books…not for reading, just for décor purposes.
• Sewing machine, because you’re obviously making your own clothes.
• Quilts, slightly used with a strange odor that no one can quite identify.
• Dangle Christmas ornaments from the ceiling to be ironic.
• NEVER TOO MANY TAPESTRIES
• Band posters from your favorite underground indie bands.
• Your secret Pinterest crafts that you pass on as your own ideas.
• Your luscious, completely unique wardrobe on display for all to see: especially your oddities and accessories stolen from your grandparents.
•  Loose leaf Earl Grey in a Mason jar.
•  Incense always burning.
• A garden gnome.
• Rugs.  The whole floor is covered in rugs.
• So cozy your uncle Ricky would want to have a sleepover with you.

Follow these instructions and your charmingly obscure pad will be inviting even to the set designers of Wes Anderson films.

Much love, Arielle & Gabi

By me.

This is a poem to a boy and also to the world.

You're fast asleep and don't wish to be woken,
And I'm certain you'll never be woken by me.
You sleep while the world is constantly broken,
And I hope it will never be broken by me.

С днём рожденне мне!

I celebrated my 21st birthday in Russia!  Wooo.  Coolest thing.

Our excursion was to Peter the Great's Summer park.  And there, Dr. Pogacar surprised us with birthday ice cream!  Wooo!  Ice cream.

Yesterday, Stephan, Naida, and I got approached by a Jehovah's Witness from Armenia.  In English.  At Burger King.

There's no escaping!

Hot...But Ice Cream!

So, today was super fun!

I woke up and went on an adventure to find a Nazarene church that my friend Vitalik in Ukraine told me about.  The Google Map directions lied.

After a few buses, metro rides, and input from +5 kindly people on the street, I found it!  And it was fantastic.  I was welcomed by the pastor, who I had messaged yesterday, and he introduced me to his English speaking friend, Alexandrina, who then translated for me when I was confused.

There were only about 20 people there.  They sang American 90s worship songs in Russian, so I knew the songs.  And then there was a short sermon and communion and community prayer.  It was just wonderful.  They invited me back again.  I said yes and regretted that I couldn't stay for tea.

I took the metro and met my friends on Nevsky Prospekt.

There we met Maria.  (Yes, everyone here is named Maria/Marina).  She's going to be our guide to all things St. Petersburg.  And thank goodness, because she is so nice and knows everything.  She took us for a very long walk down Nevsky Prospekt (the main street in Peter', if you didn't know) and then to the Peter and Paul Fortress.

It was beautiful there.

Because it was so warm today, many people were out sunbathing.  Naida and I just got ice cream and sat and talked for a bit.  It was nice.

Later, I talked to Marina, my host mom, about my day.  When I tried to explain the church that I went to, she got very worried.  I was quite confused and frustrated because what I could understand was that she thought any church that wasn't a state ordained Russian Orthodox or Catholic church wasn't a good church.  She told me that the church I visited wasn't a church at all, but a sect.  It wasn't until her daughter Maria came home that it was explained to me.

Apparently there were sects that were bringing people in off the streets to a sort of house-church and then hypnotizing them.  Thus, house-churches have been banned in Russia.  Marina and Maria were worried that I'd get hypnotized.  It's kind of funny, but I'm glad they cared.  I reassured them that I have many friends in Ukraine who know this pastor and have been to this church, that they didn't just pull me in off the street, and that it was a legal church.  They were relieved.

Excellent.  Now, perhaps, they won't think I'm a completely incompetent, naïve, and easily-persuaded young traveller, which seems to be the opinion they had after todays excursions.

Whistling

Russians think that if you whistle indoors you will always be poor.  Nobody's here right now, so I'm whistling.  I wasn't planning on being exceedingly rich anyway.

St. Petersburg!

We took a day train from Moscow to Saint Petersburg.  The countryside was stunning.  I want to live there (at least for maybe 73 days).  There were hills and valleys and meadows and lakes and little cottages and so many trees!

The lilacs are blooming in St. Petersburg.  The streets are full of people.  The buildings are antique and every one of them gorgeous.  The people are gorgeous, too.  The women in their dresses and the guys look pretty normal and well dressed, too.  Normal as in not every one of them has a mullet.  Cool.

Anyway,  I was kind of squealing a lot on the van ride to my host family.  Jess hugged me, empathizing with my uncontrollable enthusiasm.  Oh my goodness.  I'm living my dream!  This is so fantastic.

My host family is a mother and daughter: Marina and Maria.  Maria, the daughter, speaks English, and they currently have another lady living with them who is from Mexico and speaks excellent English, Russian, Italian, and Spanish of course.  Marina and Maria went to bed, but she made tea for me, and we sat in the kitchen and got to know each other.  Wow.  This is going to be so cool.

Mrs. Marina will make me breakfast at 8 am, and then I will explore the area until I meet up with the rest of our group at the nearby Metro station.

Tomorrow is exploration day, so there are bound to be pictures!  

Historical Moscow

May 22/23, 2013

Each weekday we have classes, and in the afternoon we go on excursions.  Yesterday, we went to Red Square and saw the sites to see there: St. Basil’s Cathedral, ГУМ (GUM), and the Kremlin.  Today we went back to Red Square and toured the Historical Museum.  Later, we went to the circus, which was absolutely delightful.

 GUM, the "state department store" is an absolutely gorgeous shopping mall commissioned by Catherine the Great.

 St. Basil's Cathedral was built during the reign of Ivan the Terrible, who had just defeated the Kazakhs and had this cathedral built in celebration.  It's absolutely beautiful.  It seems that Ivan agreed, because he had the architect blinded so that he would never make anything so beautiful anywhere else.  Nice.

Unfortunately none of my pictures from the circus turned out well, but nothing compares to the sight to which we came "home."  The fog settled so beautifully, and the building is lit so magnificently.   

Good night from Moscow!

My first Russian meal

Potato fries with meatballs, bread and tea.  The meatballs were super salty and garlic-y but delicious.  This costed around 110 rubles or about $3.50.  

In the city

May 20/21, 2013

New York City

So, with the curiosities of travelling, only half of May 20^th occurred for me.  David, Stepan, and I saw a smidgeon of New York.  We went to the Cake Boss Café and had coffee and cupcakes.  

After much effort, we got to JFK.  The bus there was kind of messy: we had to transfer to different buses and the drivers were grumpy about it.  But I did enjoy seeing things.  It made me excited for city life.  We met up with Найда at JFK and she, Stepan, and I played a few games of Hearts whilst bantering in the crude manner of college students before boarding our plane, which took off around 2:00 pm.   

The flight wasn’t too bad.  I slept a little bit, but ended up watching two films: Alfred Hitchcock’s “North by Northwest,” and “Hitchcock,” a film about Alfred Hitchcock.  It was divine.  I actually nearly cried watching “Hitchcock”.  Anthony Hopkins acted the part phenomenally, as did the lady who played Alma Hitchcock. Hopkins, especially, became his character.  The screenwriting was witty and captured the spirit of this beloved film director quite well. It was a moving film.

When we got off of the plane, it was 7:45 am in Moscow, which means we just skipped night time all together.   We had to wait quite a long time before we could leave by bus because we had to wait for the arrival of Shane and Dr. Pogacar.  Now we just need David and Jess to arrive, and we shall be a happy party. 

It took probably over an hour to get from the airport to the university.  It was an incredible little bus trip, though.  Moscow is so vast and varies so widely.  Some areas seem old, dilapidated and polluted.   Others seem new, enormous and futuristic.  

Here at the university, everything is just old.  I feel as if I jumped back a century here.  There are huge ballrooms with columns and paintings and statues of soviet leaders.  There are kiosks in the corners and in the halls.  The elevators are spooky and precarious-seeming, but I enjoy every bit of it. 

My room is a sanctuary.  The floor is made of raw wood laid out in chevron style.  There is a window with a straight dandelion-colored curtain and a sill big enough to sit in and watch the outside world romantically. I have little shkoffs (bookshelves/closets) and an old TV that plays cable stations.  It makes fun background noise.  There are two wooden chairs, a desk, and a lamp that inspires me to write 50s crime novels.  Everything is perfect.  For a bed, I have a sort of foam couch.  If I’d let myself, I’d probably sleep for hours, but I have to battle Jet Lag, and giving in to slumber and the forgotten night will not help.

So, here I sit with my sparkling mineral water ready for the group to come together.  I have some things I need: toiletries, really.  The toilet room (outside of my room and my currently non-existent neighbors’ room) did not come with toilet paper, so the luxury of using the bathroom is postponed until paper stuffs can be located, which is easier said than done.

Moscow State University is a wonder of the Communist era, and, in all its glory, this campus is extraordinarily intimidating to me right now.  I don’t understand how it works.  This dorm that I am in is super complicated.  It has 21 floors and myriad hallways and staircases that go around in mazes.  I haven’t even a clue how to find other buildings and stores.  There are swarms of people everywhere, too.  They all speak Russian.  I feel terribly inadequate in that regard.

I can’t say that I am scared.  I am intrigued and I am at peace, but I am in my room.  Some guys laughed at me earlier because I did not understand what they said.  The one guy said to the other, “She’s one that has terrible Russian.”  I confirmed his statement, in Russian, but they shook their heads and laughed.  After successfully purchasing water with 80 rubles, separated from my friends, I got lost in the elevators.  Yes, here even the elevators are fit for a labyrinth.  There are eight elevators on this sector of the building: two sets of four.  I did not realize that one set operates for floors 0-9 and the other for the floors to the 2 and 10-21.  After riding the latter elevators in a disoriented search for the elusive 7^th floor, I realized that I simply had the wrong group of elevators.  I was given funny looks, but it doesn’t matter.  I’ll be unknown here.  We leave in nine days.

On the bus...

May 19, 2013

            We stopped in Pittsburgh for two hours and decided to explore a little.  It was a delightful stretch of the legs.  We walked down Penn Ave., and saw a bunch of cool stores: places I would love to visit on a weekday that they’re open.  Maybe someday I can bike around all of these beautiful cities and take in the sites.  Mmmm.  Delicious culture.

            We ate at a seafood place.  It wasn’t very impressive at all, but the atmosphere was fantastic, and I enjoyed the time passed there anyway.  I delight in a good city street with weather beaten signs and unknown people.  The amount of potential discovery is mouth watering.  Oh, I am ecstatic!

            Pittsburgh was a sufficient mini-adventure.  Tomorrow morning (a few hours away) I get to finally see the beautiful cities of Philadelphia and New York, granted, it will just be a glimpse.  But it’s fine.  I’ll be in Moscow soon.  A whole new world will open up, and I will jump in. 

            These are dreams coming true.  I could cry.

Pittsburgh, PA

Off Adventuring...

Tomorrow marks the start of a new adventure!  I won't promise thorough nor frequent accounts on this blog, but there will be videos! (I'll post links later.)

Here's the general itinerary:

May 19: Join my friends on a bus in Columbus to NYC
May 20: Fly to Moscow, stay in dorms at Moscow State University
June 1-29: Train to St. Petersburg, stay in host homes and study at St. Petersburg University
July 1: Leave my group and fly to Kyiv, Ukraine.
July 2-17: Unplanned excursions throughout Ukraine. (Visiting of friends in Vinnitsa and Uzhgorod for sure.)
July 18: Return to my normal, casual, English-speaking lifestyle.

My fellow adventurers are Renée (Найда), Stephan (Степан), David, Shane,  Jess, and our BGSU Russian professor, Dr. Pogacar.

Good golly, I'm excited.

Christianity and Marriage Equality?

[My opinions on this have changed drastically since I wrote this.  Perhaps look at my entry "Pure of Heart" to get an idea of how I view sexuality in general.  I do not really feel like taking the time to outline every single argument here.  Maybe someday I will.]

So, marriage equality is the topic of the week.  Here are my thoughts in two premises.  Pardon the length and inevitable grammatical mistakes.

My first premise is this: I consider myself a Christian, and therefore strive to follow a “Christ-like” way of life.  It is obvious to me from studying the Bible that God desires his followers, if “they cannot control themselves,” to have sex only between two people after they are married.  (1 Corinthians 7:1-15)  I can’t tell you that it is “immoral” to have sex with someone of the same gender, or even, for that matter, to have sex before marriage.  I simply know that, as a Christian, if I am to have sex, it is to be between a man and me only after we have been married.

This does not mean that I don’t want sex before marriage, because—let’s be honest—of course I want to have sex.  Is God going to condemn me for wanting to have sex?  No, because I am human, and it is natural.  That’s just how we are.   

However, God expects his followers to take control of their bodies: to not submit to “the flesh.”  So, because of my love for God, I will strive to be sexually pure and not give in to lust whether that means abstaining from premarital sex, homosexuality or even masturbation. 

Another way of putting it is this: if God would require Christians to not eat bacon, I would not eat bacon.  Of course I would have an incredibly hard time with this because I love bacon.  Am I a sinner because I love bacon?  No.  And am I damned because sometimes I mess up and have some bacon?  No.  Jesus preaches forgiveness and urges us to strive to perfection.  That doesn’t mean that we’ll instantly be perfect and without struggle.  It means that we have forgiveness as we strive to follow his example.

And then, if you aren’t one who strives to be like Christ, I don’t really see any reason why you should follow these rules, and I apologize for those who have told you otherwise.

My second premise is this: I am, in this political matter, of a libertarian stance.  That is, politically, I think that people should be allowed to make their own decisions as long as they are not harming another person—that is not violating another person’s right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Also, this nation was founded on the ideas of separation of church and state and freedom of religion.  Of course, the meaning of these can be debated and the “original intent of the Constitution” will be argued, and I don’t mean that I want to keep Christian principles out of the government (I mean, not stealing and killing are primary examples/basic moral laws that should be followed), but when it comes to mandating religious laws in a nation that is living on the principle of freedom of religion, I have serious reservations. 

Putting these two premises together, I must then ask:  As a nation who claims to have a freedom of religion, and if not everyone in this nation aims to live a Christian lifestyle, then what right do we have to say that certain people may not live out their selected path to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness?

For those who ask, what about churches?  What if a church doesn’t want to marry a homosexual couple?  Here is where I will agree.  I feel like the government should not have restrictions on heterosexual or homosexual marriage, however, churches should have the right to permit the services in their buildings and with their pastors or not. 

So, back to the bacon analogy: the government can’t just outlaw bacon because a religion says that it is immoral (or will bring on great trials/tribulations/curse of the nation/fire/brimstone/anti-Christ—you name it)—especially if it claims to have freedom of religion and separation of church and state. 

So, there is my political stance as of my current level of understanding of theology, philosophy, and politically theory.  If I’m wrong or my premises are faulty, educate me.  Give me solid reasons.