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[Nexxo]

Originally Posted by LennyRhys

I heard from my own minister that there were allegations of child abuse within that family... never looked any further into it, but in all honesty it wouldn't surprise me - they are a very messed-up bunch (sadly).

Wouldn't surprise me either. Rev. Phelps has a malignant narcissistic personality disorder. Wikipedia has a nice little entry:

Malignant narcissism can be distinguished from psychopathy, according to Kernberg, because of the malignant narcissist's capacity to internalize "both aggressive and idealized superego precursors, leading to the idealization of the aggressive, sadistic features of the pathological grandiose self of these patients". According to Kernberg, the psychopath's paranoid stance against external influences makes him or her unwilling to internalize even the values of the "aggressor", while malignant narcissists "have the capacity to admire powerful people, and can depend on sadistic and powerful but reliable parental images". Malignant narcissists, in contrast to psychopaths, are also said to be capable of developing "some identification with other powerful idealized figures as part of a cohesive 'gang'...which permits at least some loyalty and good object relations to be internalized". "Some of them may present rationalized antisocial behavior - for example, as leaders of sadistic gangs or terrorist groups...with the capacity for loyalty to their own comrades".

Translation: the malignant narcissist is a "Psychopath Light". They overcompensate for a crushingly low insecurity by developing a grandiose persona, with an over-inflated sense of self-importance. They admire power and need to feel powerful. By (often random) cruelty they demonstrate to themselves and others their dominant position, and they get gratification from that. Often they project on an idealised all-powerful parent figure and they rationalise their behaviour by an ideology that legitimises their power and dominance. They are capable of appearing charismatic but have no empathy; being fundamentally insecure they prey on the weak. If you are thinking of dictators, certain politicians, cult or terrorist leaders, you are thinking along the right track.

Of course the origins of such a personality disorder tends to lie in an extremely abusive childhood, in which the child learns early on that human relationships inevitably involve abuse and dominance, and that if at all possible it is better to be the abuser than the abused. Because the abuser is the attachment figure, traumatic bonding occurs: abuse is rationalised as a form of care (in battered women expressed as: "He only hits me because he loves me") or blame is attributed to oneself ("I must have done something wrong to make him do it") while identification with the abuser occurs (see also: Stockholm Syndrome), who may paradoxically be idealised and worshipped.

So it is not surprising that his estranged son claims that Rev. Phelps used to physically abuse his wife and children by beating them with his fists and the handle of a mattock to the point of bleeding. Rev. Phelps had a rough childhood; his mother died of cancer when he was 5, and his aunt who subsequently raised him died in a car crash when he was 21. Details about this period are sketchy. His father was described by those who knew him as a man who could fly into a rage in an instant. He worked as a "bull" for the local railroad security force; they had a reputation for brutality when they patrolled the yards to prevent the itinerant labourers, washed out of their hometowns by the Depression, from riding the freights. Rev. Phelps was quoted as remembering how his father often came home with blood all over him. In his teenage years Rev. Phelps himself became known as a boxer to be reckoned with. He also became known as someone who would speak his mind freely, but become violent if you dared to disagree with him.

I think that Rev. Phelps is just another cult leader who derives his sense of self-importance from his association with the ultimate idealised all-powerful father figure: God, and who derives legitimacy for his sadistic actions from the twisted fundamentalist Christian ideology he has found and elaborated on. He became a pastor and a lawyer (and has made his children follow in his footsteps) because both positions are high power, high status ones. But he does not really care about justice or anyone's spiritual wellbeing; he fought for equal rights for Black people, but he'll persecute gays. He alternatively supported Al Gore and Saddam Hussein and then condemned them to hell. Everybody is just a means for him to aggrandise himself through dominance and cruelty.

[thehippoz]

yeah read he was even kicked out of germany for some crazy stuff and came back (guess the whole hitler thing doesn't fly well over there)

[KayinBlack]

It's the flip side of religion-on the good side we have self-sacrifice, on the bad we have an enabling of hate. It's being used as a justification of a person's own prejudices, and they would have just as likely been Buddhist if it suited their aims.

There's another essential issue here-what to do in these cases, where there are two diametrically opposed views presented by a group that should present a united front, such as the difference between Phelps and the Christianity we're attempting to live. In this case, the scriptures say they'll know us by the fruit of our labors. I would say that any group that tries to incite rioting over a wrong doctrine is bearing fruit of a rather rotten kind.

Though I might need to address a concept that they will absolutely call out-the one of God hating sin. I really think we've got a wrong idea of a lot of the time on how God looks at things. If anyone out there has children, then they understand that you generally want your child to obey you. The things they do that are counter to that would anger you, but they would hurt you more. This is the essential breakdown between Phelps and Christianity. His God lacks the propensity for love, the capacity to be saddened by disobedience more than angered. This is a view of God that does not support even an Old Testament God of fury and justice view. But furthermore, it rejects the concept that God is love, replacing that attribute with fiery vengeance and cold, calculated revenge.

The concept that God is love is most reflected in the idea that God is the "father" of humanity-and His behavior suggests that He is no absentee father, but rather that He is standing by, watching us walk or fall, offering encouragement but allowing us to do it ourselves. It's a critical part of the doctrine of free will. If a child is always helped to walk, they can't do it on their own. If the child is held up forever, it's not their ability that moves them, either-negating the concept of their choice. I've covered in depth the doctrine of free will in this forum before, though I can treat it again if necessary. But therein lies the core component of His love-that He allows us to do it ourselves, limiting Himself to allow for our freedom. In the NT, we are told "everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial." In this context, we can get away with anything, so to speak. But certain actions aggreive our Creator, and some cause Him to celebrate. But in the end, it's our choice. We are the controller of our destiny.

The core difference, as you can see, is the attitude assumed by the Creator. Sometimes, it's not about flaming justice, it's about engendering a relationship much like a father and child. In Christianity, we are told that this is the relationship that He wants with all of us, but that all do not listen. We don't witness in that wise because we expect fiery justice to rain down RIGHT NOW from the heavens. We do it because we have found a relationship that we want to share with others-one that brings at least me an overwhelming peace. I share because even in the midst of terminal illness, I believe that I have not been abandoned, even if all my earthly friends desert me. Do I base that on a feeling? In part, yes. The appeal to miracles proof of Christianity carries some weight as well, having seen some things medical science can't explain. It's a sum total that makes me feel that something incredibly powerful is on the side of humanity, but they've constrained themselves to the sidelines for the most part. They're watching us learn to walk, but they're there to comfort us when we fall.

So why do bad things happen to good people? Original sin, and the fact that people have free will. And, generally speaking, while a person might be an intelligent, rational being people are dumb, dangerous animals. I don't assign to God the blame for people being stupid. It's both a misassignment of blame and an abusive ad hominem. Pain is part of life. For some, more than others. When I look at the laughing face of my son, I am reminded that there is more to understanding this life that I will ever know, even should I live a thousand years. For a child that sick to be that gloriously happy, there is more to things than we can see. It inspires me as well. I use it to find hope that life is still good, even as my body collapses around me.

Phelps will never understand that love, and it saddens me. Furthermore, he leads others astray on his fool's errand, which to me is worse than his own cupidity. But when a peson who doesn't claim to follow the least tenet of Christianity can observe that he and I have no thought in common, I know there is still hope for humanity. And that hope is an important thing. Faith, hope, and love. They're important.

As to the condolences on my condition-I only have to die. You have the hard part-you will live, and bear all that has in store. I may have been wrong, but I hope that I have left a legacy of well, hope, and helped more than I hurt. And if I reach the end of this road and simply wink out into nothing, well, my pain will be ended and my burden unshouldered all the same. As I said, to you is the task. And I will pray while I still have breath that you have the best run of it you may.

[Nexxo]

Originally Posted by KayinBlack

It's the flip side of religion-on the good side we have self-sacrifice, on the bad we have an enabling of hate. It's being used as a justification of a person's own prejudices, and they would have just as likely been Buddhist if it suited their aims.

Any ideology can be used to justify anything. People are creative like that.

Originally Posted by KayinBlack

Though I might need to address a concept that they will absolutely call out-the one of God hating sin. I really think we've got a wrong idea of a lot of the time on how God looks at things. If anyone out there has children, then they understand that you generally want your child to obey you. The things they do that are counter to that would anger you, but they would hurt you more. This is the essential breakdown between Phelps and Christianity. His God lacks the propensity for love, the capacity to be saddened by disobedience more than angered. This is a view of God that does not support even an Old Testament God of fury and justice view. But furthermore, it rejects the concept that God is love, replacing that attribute with fiery vengeance and cold, calculated revenge.

Phelps is just projecting his idealised daddy onto God and then identifying with him. No wonder that he would have his characteristics. He is not worshipping God --he is worshipping himself.

Originally Posted by KayinBlack

Phelps will never understand that love, and it saddens me. Furthermore, he leads others astray on his fool's errand, which to me is worse than his own cupidity. But when a peson who doesn't claim to follow the least tenet of Christianity can observe that he and I have no thought in common, I know there is still hope for humanity. And that hope is an important thing. Faith, hope, and love. They're important.

No worries. Rev. Phelps and you are not even in the same conceptual phase-space.

[thehippoz]

I dunno nexxo.. I think a lot of people are in that space- look at the thread title xD

[thehippoz]

here's a good story.. I'm not sure who wrote it- it was in my email..

"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?" Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

"I saw the car, Dad . Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts....dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.

At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone. My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.

Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.

Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind.

But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it. The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.."

I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner

Struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.

Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror.. "You mean you're going to kill him?" "Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eye s awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me.. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad !" I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house. Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!"

Dad ignored me.. "Did you hear me, Dad ?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw...............

Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal. It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years.. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.

And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it." "I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article... Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . ..his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.

Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live while you are alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.

But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.

[SuicideNeil]

Pfft, nice story.

What about all the kindly people who take in strangers or offer them help, only to be mugged, robbed, and/or brutally murdered in return for their generosity and kindness?

[Nexxo]

So? Stories inspire us, comfort us, guide us, help us make sense of the world. We think in story, and stories tell us who we are. Myths, legends, faery tales, from cave paintings to tales told around a campfire, from tribal tales transferred orally from one generation of storyteller to the next to historical accounts written down on parchment or vellum; they are all part of human evolution. To be human is to tell stories.

[stonedsurd]

And to be smart is to recognize them as just that - stories.

Yes, animals have a therapeutic effect on people, but I could make up a story about a cranky old man and a pit bull that ripped his chest open and ate his heart. Still just a story.

[Shirty]

Originally Posted by thehippoz

story

cool story bro

And with that the thread has now come full circle...

In all seriousness stories are of course essential, they are how humankind passes accrued wisdom through the ages. They are how two (or more) people communicate about experiences be they recent or not.

But as Nexxo alludes to and stonedsurd explicitly states, whilst stories are vital, so is the ability to recognise the meaning behind a story, and to logically extrapolate the true intended meaning. In my opinion (and it is only an opinion), the more time that passes from the events a story describes the less reliable the story - and its identifiable meaning - becomes.

Please don't ban me for the first line of this post.

[LennyRhys]

Nexxo is absolutely right: our lives are all about stories; philosophically speaking, a worldview is one very big story - a metanarrative.

Let's not forget that "story" and "fable" are not the same thing. People often claim that the Bible is fable, but that is most commonly a prejudiced assumption. "It's a fable because I don't believe it" does not lend credence to the claim.

[stonedsurd]

Originally Posted by LennyRhys

"It's a fable because I don't believe it" does not lend credence to the claim.

"It's true because I believe it"

"It's true because it says so"

Awfully similar refrain from anyone with a holy book.

[LennyRhys]

Exactly - the same attitudes pervade on both sides of the fence; my point is that beliefs that rest on circular arguments are just as common in the atheist camp (but there are those who can capably defend what they believe without arguing in circle). I'm disinclined to dismiss something as fable without having a valid reason for doing so.

[Nexxo]

I'm disinclined to believe something as true without having a valid reason to. But the thing about stories is, it's not just about the story. The truth is not so much in whether the story happened, but in its meaning.

[LennyRhys]

All truth requires faith of one sort or another; and I would say (naturally) that truth is objective. Where stories are concerned, I do believe it is possible to communicate truth through fable, but for an actual story to be considered "true" it must actually have taken place.

Here's something else to discuss which I think could be very interesting. I want to pick up on something from before regarding morality: assuming a starting point of subjective morality, what is it that determines when individual morality can allow a person to "intervene" in the circumstances of other people? For example, most people who see a man abuse a child or witness somebody getting mugged will think ,"That is wrong" and will likely do something to assist the victim. What gives them that right? If I think it's wrong to harm people, does that then give me the right to (effectively) interfere when I see people getting harmed?

[Shirty]

In the society we live in, many of us are inclined to help those less fortunate than ourselves not just out of pity or concern for well-being, but because that is how we would wish to be treated were the roles reversed.

Of course many are genuinely selfish or afraid to step forward in such a scenario, but since most people have a relatively well established sense of fundamental right and wrong, the compulsion to act upon that sense can be quite strong.

If a parent saw someone abusing their child I would expect them to retaliate - even if in doing so they caused harm to the perpetrator. This is simply an innate, natural reaction to witnessing such an event. Morality flies out of the window, and preservation of the child becomes paramount to the detriment of common courtesy.

The example of a mugging is more complex as many people would fear for their own well-being if they were to intervene. Again, this is another form of preservation, only this time of the 'self' rather than the child.

Morality gives us the basis by which to judge our actions - but animal instinct will almost always take over when the situation demands it. If you had been drafted in WWII and were stood face to face with an enemy soldier, you would not stand and wait to be shot, you would do everything in your power to be the first one to pull the trigger, and so would he. Neither of you would last long without that approach!

[Scroome]

I'm surprised by the reactions of some people when witnessing harm come to another. For example, when you see a person trip or fall, it is received with different attitudes. Some rush for immediate assitance, some rubber neck as if the situation is a form of entertainment and some even go as far as to find someone going flat down amusing.

I would agree that most people have a generally perceived sense of right and wrong, but I wouldn't go as far to say that it was fundamental. Treat others as you would expect to be treated doesn't fly with as many as you think.

In some countries, it's illegal not to intervene when witnessing another person coming to harm.

This, to me, raises the question of whether someone is helping based on their own morale belief of helping those in need, or of self interest.

[KayinBlack]

Depends on the person. Some people will always look out for number one, while others are constantly self-sacrificing. Plus, while some of us believe there is an absolute truth, the moralities of the people applying it are most of the time subjective. It's a rare person that uses an external source exclusively, even if they attempt to hold to it. We're human. We all have prejudices, we all have fiercely held beliefs. And at one point or another, they'll influence us over anything else.

[Shirty]

Originally Posted by Scroome

I'm surprised by the reactions of some people when witnessing harm come to another. For example, when you see a person trip or fall, it is received with different attitudes. Some rush for immediate assitance, some rubber neck as if the situation is a form of entertainment and some even go as far as to find someone going flat down amusing.

I would agree that most people have a generally perceived sense of right and wrong, but I wouldn't go as far to say that it was fundamental. Treat others as you would expect to be treated doesn't fly with as many as you think.

In some countries, it's illegal not to intervene when witnessing another person coming to harm.

This, to me, raises the question of whether someone is helping based on their own morale belief of helping those in need, or of self interest.

Oh I'm well aware that many would not agree with what is quite an idealistic notion, but there is a big difference between the reactions to an accident (such as the fall you refer to), and reactions to someone being deliberately harmed by another person. Everyday, anonymous 'heroes' do seem to be becoming rare as time marches forward, but I would still argue that if person A has a vested interest in person B, then they will react to protect that person in most if not all circumstances. A lot of good happens that goes unreported, because bad news is what sells.

On the subject of self-interest there are some very interesting theories in the philosophy of logical positivism that all actions are indeed selfish. Why would a Christian spend this life (the only one we can know exists) devoted to pleasing God, if they did not ultimately think it would benefit them in the next life? Heaven versus Hell is as clear cut as black and white.

Originally Posted by KayinBlack

Plus, while some of us believe there is an absolute truth, the moralities of the people applying it are most of the time subjective.

And of course the same thing applies to those who don't believe there is an absolute truth as well. Christianity is no better/worse off than any other belief structure or philosophy of life with regards to the variable morality of its followers.

[Nexxo]

Originally Posted by LennyRhys

Here's something else to discuss which I think could be very interesting. I want to pick up on something from before regarding morality: assuming a starting point of subjective morality, what is it that determines when individual morality can allow a person to "intervene" in the circumstances of other people? For example, most people who see a man abuse a child or witness somebody getting mugged will think ,"That is wrong" and will likely do something to assist the victim. What gives them that right? If I think it's wrong to harm people, does that then give me the right to (effectively) interfere when I see people getting harmed?

All morality (I would argue) exists only in the context of human relationships. You cannot behave immorally when you are the only inhabitant of a desert island. So morality is a social phenomenon. It is also universal: what harms one human is pretty likely to harm others. Hence most people will share a very similar sense of right and wrong (even if they put riders on it). The right to intervene comes from the implicit social bond that exists between humans.