NOTE: Sorry to have to bring this up, but some people have had trouble getting the message. You are now on the homepage of the Shrine of the Sleeping Gods. We are not a Wiccan group. We have no interest in becoming one. So, don't drop by to ask us to teach you "the craft" or we'll have to refer you to Stavros, our large scary looking Macedonian bouncer, not to mention the fierce attack shih tzu he keeps by his side. (*). Metaphysics is a rough business, these days.




About that threat ...

A rhetorical question asked with tiresome frequency of many who practice what some would term "Alternative Religions", is this : "Aren't you afraid of going to Hell?", a restatement of an old argument known as "Pascal's Wager". To this, the response of this particular Christo-Pagan would be ...

Sure, I can do your hair, but after that I have to take you to Hell

Afraid in what sense? Of course the prospect of Eternal Torment would be frightening - that's why some people like to threaten dissenters with it. In that sense, we are all afraid of Hell. What we are not, is afraid that we're going to Hell, which is quite a different matter than finding the concept of Hell fearsome. Here, we will examine the inconsistencies of the usual Fundamentalist position on this matter.

If some still feel fear - that is understandable. This argument of theirs' is pure emotional violence. But not all those who would dare to speak for God speak with His voice, as these fundamentalists themselves will admit - to claim otherwise would be the sin of "presumption". I would be inclined to add, it does God a terrible injustice, in that it attributes our most unworthy motives of pride and intolerance to Him, as if He were not above such things.

Please keep in mind that this particular article, which is part of the unpublished manuscript "Constructing God : The search for the Divine through Folklore", by Antistoicus (a member of the Circle by the Lake) is copyrighted 1999, all rights reserved. See copyright notice.

Let's begin the rebuttal to Pascal's wager, now.














(*) Eight inches of bone chilling terror!