Rest, then. I hope the journey goes well.

Then if I understand correctly, the one you love has been separated from you by death. If so, then I'm sorry for you both; there are few things in our existence that have such a cost.

I hope, as time passes, you can see things more clearly and find comfort in understanding.

‘God’ cannot be shown or known, so ‘God’ is but wished for and hoped for, which is called ‘faith’, in short. — PoeticUniverse

That's the premise.

Perhaps before we descend too far into the logical complexity, we might consider the simplistic premise. Can God be known? Of course. Are wishing and hoping the substance of faith? Of course not.

The premise, along with each of the subordinate points, was formed within a context of not knowing God, was it not? In the absence of a valid premise, where does the logic lead?

The graphic is a historical summary, not an ideology. You might perhaps look again ...

"In the last century, that has by and large been the case."

Of course. A century of progress isn't unusual. There have been only a few civilizations that finished a third century, however.

The key in every case was not technology or industry, not the type of governance, or of resources. The essential element for a stable civilization is the virtue of the culture, the willingness of the people to live fairly and cooperatively together. As that particular virtue declines, so does the civilization.

It was a fairly easy choice between Clinton and Trump. Conservatives and evangelicals understood the Clinton agenda fairly well and gladly voted against it. Sanctity of life and economic superiority were perhaps critical issues. Promises to clean the governmental quagmire of excessive regulation were appealing, and those regarding trade deals were perhaps attractive as well.

Now, supporters are faced with the reality exposed by this administration. There have been policy decisions consistent with accepted principle and values ... some but by no means all. There has been behavior that would normally be considered unacceptable, and supporters have struggled to balance their own opinions.

Many are at a loss when considering the thousands of tweets and statements to the media.

For an objective view, it's perhaps insightful to consider an external perspective. Someone on Quora asked “Why do some British people not like Donald Trump?” Here's one somewhat humorous response ...
________________________

"A few things spring to mind. Trump lacks certain qualities which the British traditionally esteem.

For instance, he has no class, no charm, no coolness, no credibility, no compassion, no wit, no warmth, no wisdom, no subtlety, no sensitivity, no self-awareness, no humility, no honour and no grace – all qualities, funnily enough, with which his predecessor Mr. Obama was generously blessed.
So for us, the stark contrast does rather throw Trump’s limitations into embarrassingly sharp relief.

Plus, we like a laugh. And while Trump may be laughable, he has never once said anything wry, witty or even faintly amusing – not once, ever.

I don’t say that rhetorically, I mean it quite literally: not once, not ever. And that fact is particularly disturbing to the British sensibility – for us, to lack humour is almost inhuman.

But with Trump, it’s a fact. He doesn’t even seem to understand what a joke is – his idea of a joke is a crass comment, an illiterate insult, a casual act of cruelty.

Trump is a troll. And like all trolls, he is never funny and he never laughs; he only crows or jeers.

And scarily, he doesn’t just talk in crude, witless insults – he actually thinks in them. His mind is a simple bot-like algorithm of petty prejudices and knee-jerk nastiness.

There is never any under-layer of irony, complexity, nuance or depth. It’s all surface.

Some Americans might see this as refreshingly upfront.
Well, we don’t. We see it as having no inner world, no soul.

And in Britain we traditionally side with David, not Goliath. All our heroes are plucky underdogs: Robin Hood, Dick Whittington, Oliver Twist.

Trump is neither plucky, nor an underdog. He is the exact opposite of that.

He’s not even a spoiled rich-boy, or a greedy fat-cat. He’s more a fat white slug. A Jabba the Hutt of privilege.

And worse, he is that most unforgivable of all things to the British: a bully. That is, except when he is among bullies; then he suddenly transforms into a snivelling sidekick instead.

There are unspoken rules to this stuff – the Queensberry rules of basic decency – and he breaks them all. He punches downwards – which a gentleman should, would, could never do – and every blow he aims is below the belt. He particularly likes to kick the vulnerable or voiceless – and he kicks them when they are down.

So the fact that a significant minority – perhaps a third – of Americans look at what he does, listen to what he says, and then think ‘Yeah, he seems like my kind of guy’ is a matter of some confusion and no little distress to British people, given that:
• Americans are supposed to be nicer than us, and mostly are.
• You don’t need a particularly keen eye for detail to spot a few flaws in the man.

This last point is what especially confuses and dismays British people, and many other people too; his faults seem pretty bloody hard to miss.

... He makes Nixon look trustworthy ...."

That's how it looks from the outside for at least one observer.
__________________________________

It appears that our traditional values of honesty and truth, of respect for others, of kindness and compassion and integrity, all are sidelined. His supporters are left with a choice between loyalty to the individual or a good conscience.

Can we reach some measure of objectivity?

A separate issue on the near horizon, of course, is the 2020 election and the direction we will take as a nation. We will again be faced with a choice between two ....

Is this normal? Of course.

Ideally, the natural evolution of culture would refine us all for the better. Cities would become better places to live, countries would prosper, and the world would be a better place. At least that's the evolutionary process we're encouraged to believe, but look beyond to the larger context of civilization.

As a rule, civilizations rise, stagnate, and decline. That inevitable fall is commonly devastating with displacement of populations and economic collapse. That which might have been considered social progress can be offset by death and suffering. A vibrant culture can become insipid.



As globalization intensifies, there is every indication of growth and benefit. There is also every indication of a widening gap between those who benefit and those who suffer loss. Should we expect this cycle to expose that never-before-seen virtue of broad collaboration and mutual benefit?

The question suggests perhaps two contexts. Can the two separated individuals somehow connect, and can the two individuals from completely different origins fall in love.

The answer to each is 'perhaps'.
If the realms of existence overlap in some manner, perhaps they might connect and communicate.
If the individuals, despite their different origins, discover an appealing way forward together, they perhaps might fall in love.

So why the question?

So what's your thought on why there are denominations in the first place?
And the separate question, what is a church?

I remember as a child growing up in the south and in a church that felt like home. Things changed when I was assigned outside the country, came home and got married, and lived for many years in foreign places, then spent a decade in developing countries. We met many thoughtful believers along the way.
The simplistic theology of my youth was disassembled and reassembled many times, and my wife similarly had her belief system broken down to reality. While our faith was perhaps rattled from time to time, we were never left alone, even in the dark times.

In the end after decades, we're still serious believers and untroubled by the differences among denominations. :)

The helpful folks with whom we've crossed paths are perhaps a bit more clearly focused on the actual reason for being together.

Well then, Alan, you're perhaps on the right path. Let's note a couple of things ...
First, pursuing romance is about you, but love is about caring and giving.

I just don't know how to transmit all that to women. To make them know me. — Alan

Second, the transmitting part is easy.

The reality of interaction is that communication is maybe 15% word content, and the rest is broadcast through expression, tone, gesture, and the tenor of the conversation. We say so much without being aware of it. Shallow conversation is fine and fun, and our deeper self is quite visible in it.

Engaging in conversation that builds up understanding between two people is a skill that's learned experimentally. So, check your motive; if it's about you, it's selfish, and that is transmitted. If it's thoughtfully about them, they can tell, and they'll probably enjoy it.

Kicking off the process of getting to know someone and growing closer can start by asking questions and getting to know each other. Your part is to inquire and listen and actually care. What's important to them? As an occasional guideline, go three questions deep before you move on to another subject, and do NOT try to solve problems for them unless they specifically ask.

So the details of 'how' are perhaps easily acquired, but the key factor is that what you bring to the table is who and what you are.

One perspective, which may or may not be useful to you, is your purpose and intent in life. The future is wildly undefined, but if you've given your heart and mind to that which is good and true, you'll find yourself being continually and aggressively refined. You'll be a man with clarity and principle, equipped for what is coming. The alternative is to be conformed to cultural norms of selfishness and pleasure, stuff that doesn't satisfy or matter, stuff that wastes so many years.

You don't have to be ridiculously religious about it, but you might have that conversation with your heavenly father. You start with your commitment to what's right and good, and he follows with instruction and direction. At least, that's the way it worked for me.

Anything useful there?

Hi, Alan. It was years ago, so the material I read is probably gone.
The centerpiece of preparation is probably figuring out what it means to be an adult. :)
Questions that need answers for an adult mind:
What's my purpose? Self, wealth, success, ... things like that are relationship killers. How about doing well and making a difference?
What's important? Integrity, responsibility, accountability, a good conscience.
Real relationship; each is intimately invested in knowing and supporting the other. When tensions rise, just talking louder proves you don't understand anything.
What's hard but necessary? Identity and opinions aren't the same. Objectivity and willingness to learn are life savers. We learn the most from those who think differently from us, and the pace increases with passing years.
I'd do the church speech, but not every religious institution is realistic nor is everyone's experience with the church all that helpful. Just being religious is a fragile foundation for real life. The real part is what holds it all together.
It's the end of a long week, and there's much more to this one. Any specific issues?

Just an observation ... your question reminds me of my own path that resolved the question for me fifty years ago. I watched my high-school and college friends marry every weekend, it seemed. I began to perhaps panic a little as time passed. At age 22, I gave up dating and spent my time studying what relationship was about and what I needed to be doing to equip myself.

Things changed quickly. Married now for 48 years and still quite happy about it, we're still learning about relationship and what we need to do to equip ourselves for the opportunities ahead. There's much more, of course, but that was the starting point.

What’s the reasoning behind progressive taxation? — tinman917

Perhaps the reasoning includes some measure of recognition that higher incomes are at least partially dependent on the efforts of others. No one is wealthy from their own effort alone.

If by virtue of experience and success, I advance up the economic chain, am I more valuable? Perhaps. Am I indispensable to the process? Unlikely. My value derives from the informed leadership I provide others. Does my value then depend on the productivity of others? Of course. In their absence, would I be valuable? No, of course not, nor does the financial benefit follow the value of each individual.

Unlike those at the bottom half of the economy, the upper quintiles benefit from investments that grow without any effort by the investor but completely dependent on the labor of others. That's not the same as working more hours.

Tax laws and industry regulation seek to fan the flame of corporate growth (favoring the wealthy more than others) with the national debt growing at about the same rate. The deficit and indebtedness burden the lower half of households disproportionately by limiting services, benefits, etc..

Resource extraction provides an interesting contest between landowners and product producers (corporations bigger than countries), and subsequent generations are left with the fallout.

Is progressive taxation, then, perhaps just one of many attempts to balance our economic process?

It perhaps simplifies some of the conversation to note that prayer is not formulaic, it's conversation.

You have frequent conversation with the one closest to you. You might ask questions, labor with difficulties, ask for some help, share some joy or sadness; it's personal conversation. It's not magic. And it continues over time with subjects being refined, understanding being clarified, lessons being learned, experience being shared. Is there more?

Curious ... neuroscience has given us some answers that are perhaps disconcerting. While our perception is that we have free will and that we make all our decisions consciously, the science doesn't appear to support either.

As we observe brain function in progressively greater detail, our 'conscious' impression of sequential events and our response to them is shown to be quite inaccurate. Apart from our awareness, our billions of neurons process signals much like any programmed system. Decisions are made, we're told, based on that programming before we consciously decide. All decisions. Before we do what we consider to be logical and moral analysis and weighing, the choice is already made.

The logical conclusion from practical science is that consciousness and choice are largely imaginary. Dealing with those difficult facts perhaps precedes the philosophical discussion which exists only in that 'imaginary' context. While we might labor through the questions in great detail, the engine driving the process sets the boundaries. Or so the science would have us believe.

No soul, no free will, no person apart from the programming ... thoughts?