I won’t argue religion with anyone, but I enjoy listening to someone tell me why they find joy in their religion or in their lack of it. The line I won’t let anyone cross is telling me that their beliefs should be mine. And we get a lot of haters on this site who believe they have an obligation to stop every point of view but their own. I don’t think they even think of it as arguing. Just as correcting.
I was blessed with a mother who let me take my own intellectual positions from at least the age of five. She respected me and let me work things out for myself, though she’d tell me when she hoped that I’d eventually reach a point on some topic with which she’d agree. I knew always to respect her positions. She was such a good woman.
I don’t know John Henry’s heart enough to know if I would have enjoyed conversing with him. His brother Henry, yes. He wrote entirely of love and joy and I can’t imagine anything more wonderful than to have sat at his feet and listen to him talk with the children in the room. There are people who frustrate me SO much because they’re dead. Henry is one.
Wise woman.