Whether it was because I'm missing my family or my getting caught up in the atmosphere of the Christmas stroll on Saturday, I took the notion to try to visit the First Baptist Church here in Bozeman. I was comforted by the familiar wooden pues and the giant pipe organ from my childhood memories, along with the army of little old ladies that proceeded to maul me with friendship bread and sympathies for my living so far away from my family. I started to think about how much I've grown up just in this semester and how my opinions on alot of things have changed, especially concerning faith and the bible, but how I think I've managed to preserve my basic principles.
But then the sermon started.
The preacher was going on about John the Baptist and how the birth of Jesus was prophesied in the book of Luke and whatnot and the basis for alot of his message was based on the order in which the books are in the bible, and how because of it, there is a ton of evidence for Jesus's existence. The entire time I had this overwhelming urge to say "Actually sir, it was probably just a later redactor that put them in that order so that it makes more sense." or something like that. As he continued, Frye continued to run through my head whispering little bits of doubt and logic that made it impossible for me to be my old baptist believing self. I don't know if I would call this a crisis of faith, I'm just realizing now how much of an impact this class has had on me and how I think about the Bible.
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