I'd say: if you've done a maths course or two already, then you should have learnt some lessons about arguing rigorously and giving absolutely clear gap-free proofs. Doing further courses won't teach you any more about that. So if you are not going to specialize in the philosophy of mathematics, a little maths in addition to some logic is already enough. If you want to work eventually in the philosophy of mind and language, then much better to do some courses on scientific psychology, neuro-biology, and linguistics.

Perhaps there are three different issues hereabouts, There's the question of whether the best route in for beginners is via texts (written material) or via lectures and other media. There's the question of whether first to struggle with " original " texts (meaning articles or books which were/are supposed to be making novel contributions, whenever they were written) or to approach issues via textbook treatments and other works more or less intended for beginners ("supplements", to borrow Lisa Cassidy's word). There's the question of whether to approach things via " original " historical texts (meaning now, in particular, writings by the Great Dead Philosophers) or to start with more contemporary materials. On (1), lectures might be fun and helpful because they tend to be more relaxed and unbuttoned than written texts: but if you are going to study philosophy then, inevitably, you are going to be doing a lot of reading from the very start....

The question doesn't specify what is to be taught. That matters. To take an extreme case, only a fully expert, well qualified, person should teach brain surgery. It would indeed be unethical to ask anyone else, or for the non-expert to comply with such a request. Too much hangs on getting things right. But that's really a rather exceptional case. Fortunately. And most of us (unless we are very senior or in very big departments) from time to time do have to teach outside our areas of real expertise. Which is no doubt good for us (the effort is rarely wasted, and you can often find surprising connections with your main interests). It can be good for the students too. Being taught by someone who is vividly aware of the difficulties for a beginner on the topic, who isn't in danger of making things too complicated too soon, who is willing to share a real sense of exploring an area together (rather than giving oracular pronouncements as an expert), can all be very positive. Assuming we aren't...

Simon Blackburn's The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy (and not just because Simon is one of my colleagues ....)

Plato famously thought that you should master mathematics before you turn to philosophy. No one would quite think that these days (though it is interesting that, among my faculty colleagues, over a quarter of us in fact have first degrees in mathematics, and turned to philosophy later). But perhaps Plato has a point. For a start, it is good to first hone your skills of sharp accurate reasoning, and to practice intellectual humility in the face of really difficult problems, when working on matters that aren't too conceptually tangled (let alone often bound up with your emotions or with cultural/religious prejudices). Not that doing serious mathematics is the only way of getting in the practice, of course: doing a degree in classics is another well-trodden route! Further, outside moral and political philosophy, a great deal of the best work -- philosophy that isn't just the higher arm-waving waffle -- is closely bound up with science, in the broadest sense. To do serious philosophy of...

I'd start with some more modern books actually written for beginners, before tackling Popper, Nagel et al. Two that in my experience work well with students are Alan Chalmers' What is This Thing Called Science , and Alexander Bird's Philosophy of Science .

Read some good introductory books. Here's a list that I really must get around to updating.

Certainly not one to attend for someone interested in Western philosophy. You'll do vastly better to check out courses run by the extra-mural departments of local universities.

You are quite right to be suspicious. This has nothing to do with philosophy. In fact you should be more than suspicious. Peddling dingbat fantasies to children according to which "a person who suffers misfortune in this life is paying for past misdeeds" is simply child-abuse.

Opinions are only worth as much as the reasons they are based on. If the reasons are no good, the opinions don't deserve respect -- indeed, they deserve to be vigorously criticized. And that applies as much to religious opinions as any other kind of opinion. Some Christians have a thought out position sustaining an admirable ethical way of life; other Christians have frankly batty superstitious reasons for holding a toxic mix of deeply unpleasant views that are a disgrace to humanity. (Similar things, of course, can be said about non-Christians!) Whether your teacher's religious views deserve any respect rather depends on which camp she is in. And, indeed, as you remark, just because a set of opinions are supposed to be "religious" gives those views no special claim on our respect at all ("that's my religious belief" is not an argument -- it just deserves the riposte "so what?"). For a terrific essay related to these matters, freely downloadable, read my colleague Simon Blackburn's ' ...