If God's spirit (according to the doctrine of immanence) radiates through the natural world, why doesn't it radiate through us, as well?

I'm starting to think that there's a need for an Atheist Bible study group, perhaps even here on this site. I hesitate to reply in this thread, since mine is not a comment about awe for nature, but here we go... The author/host of this site (Ebon?) clearly believes that the Bible is full of nonsense, but that we should not make a point of harping on "easily harmonized" nonsense. Genesis 9:5 seems to fall cleanly in this second category -- if it falls into the category of nonsense at all.

When I read this passage, it sounds to me like God is saying that life is going to be hard and that "beasts" will shed our blood. Thus, if a dog goes wild and tries to eat its master, we can take comfort that it is just following Geness 9:5, but if our dog dies, we cannot look to this verse to answer the question of whether dogs go to heaven.

Today's Astronomy picture of the day shows another dimension of the Universe that can give a sense of awe. Give yourself some time to sink into the picture and feel the depth... and then recall the size of the stars and the spaces between them.

I wonder what your friend would say if he knew that God said he'd demand an accounting from all the animals as well as the humans for any bloodshed caused by them (Gen 9:5). Although it doesn't say whether the accounting takes place on earth or in heaven, it implies that it is at the end of the accountee's life.
Maybe dogs do go to heaven...

Actually, according to Revelation 22, dogs will be cast into the outer darkness (where there will presumably be howling and gnashing of fangs), along with wizards, pimps and so on. Apparently, Canis familiaris needs to get a better auditor.

Living here in SoCal, when I'm stuck writing a song and need some help, I grab an acoustic and head to my favorite beach. While I sit and fiddle around with chords, it never leaves my awareness that those waves have been rolling in, in sets of seven and nine, every thirty seconds, for at least 4.2 billion years. Sometimes it inspires me to finish the song. Sometimes it makes me realize that some endings are never heard, and so I set the song away, to perhaps return at a later date. No matter what the result may be, I always walk away feeling more humble, and determined not to play the song, but to let the song play me. And damned glad to be alive.

I have taken thousands of people into the backcountry, from relgious zealots to atheists and freethinkers. All are changed by the experience, but i am always saddened by the jesus-buffs and religion fans who look out at this and see only an imaginary sky-fairy creating this. I find great comfort, solace and strength looking out at this grand 2 billion year old experience and know that part of me is there and part of it compromises me. The Mountains are just that, Mountains. Nothing more and nothing less. And that is great comfort to me. I know that when I look out at them all my petty problems which seem so huge and overwhelming are nothing. Long after I am gone those Mountains will be standing there, and long before I was here they stood sentinal over this valley. I am just another layer in the rock and that makes me realize just how small I am in the cosmos, and I sleep better at night knowing this.

This is a snippet from my journal, it seems relevant here, it was from November 10, 2004:

The first real snow of winter is slowly giving way to the warmer temperatures settling into our valley. It is not uncommon here to have the snow one day and rain or warming, melting air the next. Even here, at the end of the panhandle, snow doesn’t stay too long unless it is in the high country or deep in late winter.

During morning tea many harbour seals were flopping about out in Dyea. They are wonderful to watch and observe when the waters are calm. Their faces pop out through the surface and they look up with a curious yet guarded stare. Eagles flying and resting stoically at the edge of the water make the wild mosaic even richer. Our valley may not have an abundance of culture, and modern amenities, but it has a grace and primeval beauty, which replaces the longing for movie theatres, malls, and large grocery stores. To choose an Appelbee’s over harbour seals swimming and feeding under the watchful eyes of the Chilkat Mountains seems like a fool’s choice. Desiring Starbucks over eagles riding the thermals above folly.

Up here every day is an adventure. Our abundance sometimes lends itself to a sort of malaise or jadedness, but it is near impossible to forget or not be impressed by what is here. Seeing these animals almost daily, or watching northern lights dancing in the night sky...

I have made my life around the backcountry and the wonder of this natural world in the north. It has come at great sacrifice, knowing I may not find the woman to share this with as it is a not an easy choice to make. I have sacrificed the ability to have a large circle of friends becauuse there just arenn't that many people HERE! Yet, at no point have I regretted one SECOND of this. This is life. This is the connection to the web and cycles of the world which I thrive on. It saddens me to no end knowing most people have lost even the remostest notion of what it is to be part of this.

Great post today Ebon.

Eric

It's strange, but it seems that it's always raining during our most memorable moments together. We wouldn't have it any other way.

Before an awe-inspiring natural landscape, we imagine that we feel a vast love surrounding us - and, in fact, we do. But it's not God's love surrounding us from outside, as many religious believers would have it. What it is, instead, is our own love for the world, projected outward.

So true. I hadn't thought of that.