Drippings.

 Just some thoughts that have been tumbling around my head.  Nothing complete, just want to get them out.

I thought we were heading for Revival, turns out it was just good marketing.

I've found such peace in getting older.  The restrictions and diminishments of aging have somehow helped me to enjoy life.  Humility, even forced humility is it's own reward.  I've realized that I do not have a sophisticated gastro-palette.  This has led me to even more enjoyment of food.  Even the reduction of libido has led to an enjoyment of life.  I guess when you take the foot off the gas it's easier to look around.  In my vain and pride filled youth, I just knew I was destined for greatness.  But greatness is usually fueled by some absence.  An absence of love or approval that causes a person of talent to be singularly focused on achievement.  I've had love and approval in my life.  My lack of greatness or extraordinary achievement is replaced with a sweet contentment in which my family and friends are my prize.  My growth is internal and communal rather than singular and showy.  There is a sweetness in decay.  I'm a slightly over ripe fruit!  Not much to look at, but still quite pleasant and absent of the bitterness of youth.

No one knows anything, but not for lack of information.

The quest for Utopia always fails to consider the consequences of that pursuit.  In seeking perfection, the imperfect are cast aside.  You cannot have human interaction without imperfection.  On a large scale, you cannot have evolution, macro or micro, without imperfection.  It would be better to put our efforts into the miracle of Grace.  A quest for inclusion and tolerance in this mess that is humanity.  We don't stop seeking to improve our society and our individual lives, but we can keep the imperfection in the calculation.  And we utilize Grace to overcome.

Corrupted People don't know that everyone is not like them.  They believe everyone is playing a game, hiding their true nature of greed, lust and power.  They don't trust goodness or altruism, thinking it a manipulative ploy.  In fact, they think themselves more virtuous because they are upfront about their thirst.

Just caught a piece of thought provoking social media.  The question was, why are Conservatives and Christians(Evangelicals) so bad at making Art.  {This can be debated, but the response was informative}  Modern Christian content is of course Ideologically based.  That's not necessarily a good or a bad thing, but it does effect the POV.  Most Christian/Conservative/Ideological content FEELS heavy handed.  The "art" is leading you.  A review of an historical event with this in mind is skewed to review the makers POV.  In this scenario, the Art is essentially propaganda.  This goes for any ideological art.  Sometimes it's unapologetic and upfront, sometimes it's intentionally deceptive.  

My thought is not to debate the good or bad/right or wrong of it all, but to realize that my favorite art and content asks a question rather than force an answer.  Curiosity about the complexity of being a human being is far more compelling than being led to the artists desired answer.  Great art does have a POV and the Artist does have intention.  However, in my opinion, the best Art makes you realize that you really don't have any answers.  The Doubt or Awe of it all should leave you uneasy and questioning.

There are people that will choose to feed 100 in hopes that they will reach the 1 that actually needs it.

There are people that will choose to deny 100 for fear that there is 1 who does not deserve it.

Grace is not efficient, nor should it try to be.

In the extreme:

Liberalism is about a Utopian future.

Conservatism is about a Mythologized past.

Both are a problem.

Groups that are expressively intolerant of the diversity that exists in humanity seem to be very tolerant of their own hypocrisy.  Intolerant groups believe there is only one "right" way to exist and cling to that even if they, themselves cannot adhere.

Oh Say...

 

The last tattered strips of my childhood patriotism have finally been dissolved by reality.  Every day current events and the reflection of our nation’s problematic past have taken their toll.  I was never a vocal patriot, but did always feel proud to be an American.  And I still do feel privileged to be an American.  I think my patriotism was based on a “2 step forward 1 step back” kind of belief system.  That though the United States and the experiment of our Constitution had devastating missteps, we ultimately leaned toward the good and righteous outcomes.  We were the Good Guys that sometimes had to do bad things.  That feeling has all but faded completely.  However, my optimism still has a burning ember.  As a nation that made Declarations in it’s fight for Independence, we DID make compelling and honorable promises.  Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happyness is a Promise.  While our delivery of that promise is a problem, it still remains a worthwhile pursuit.  From a World History perspective, it’s embarrassing and sad cliché that we keep repeating the same events over and over. 

“How could the world let that happen?” is something I wondered to myself from middle school forward well into my 40’s any time I considered the atrocities of the 20^th Century.  The Prime example is of course Nazi Germany.  How could the World let that happen?  The rise to power, the invasions, the Genocide.  Thinking the world had progressed and that we were passed that kind of hatred is a special kind of naivety.  And now, within my own country that boasts the most freedom ever achieved in the modern world, we have given power to megalomaniacs, billionaires, and oligarchs.  It’s the same embarrassing story over and over.  We the people got played.  In the last few months I’ve been consuming documentaries about Post Civil War up through the 1930’s.  America's Gilded Age and Industrial Revolution, with figures like Carnegie and Morgan, evoke parallels to modern-day titans like Musk and Bezos. We often celebrate these powerful individuals, even as their pursuit of monopolies always disadvantages the poor and marginalized. And more documentaries of European history leading up to World War I reveal a similar pattern.  Modern citizens are no different, we have learned nothing.  Furthermore, the legacy of the American Eugenics Movement highlights not only our failure to prevent Hitler's rise, but also how our own history of slavery, genocide, and the "scientific" justifications of eugenics provided potent tools for European nationalist leaders. And if those tools weren’t enough, we closed our borders to immigration by 90% in the 20’s adding fuel to the glowing embers of Europe.

“I am forced to look out for emigration and as far as I can see the USA is the only country we could go to.”  We all know the tragedy of what the Nazi’s did to Ann Frank and that she died in a Concentration Camp.  What is never mentioned was that Otto Frank petitioned America numerous times for asylum and immigration to the U.S.

There is a feeling of helplessness verging on hopelessness.  The irony is that it is because we hope for better that it feels so bad.  We hang on to the belief that we are collectively better than this.  Not just people the think and act like me, but the people that view life here in America from vastly different perspective.  We’ve all heard the promise of America.  We’ve bought in to it one way or another.  I have no illusions of a utopia.  Utopia is over-rated.  Utopia can only happen with 100% agreement.  I don’t think good things come out of a situations where humans agree completely.  You need dissent and diversity to push this mess forward in a way that we can deliver on that promise to the most possible people.  That is the Genius of our Constitution…it accounts for the mess with Checks and Balances.  And when forces work to diminish those Checks and Balances, it is up to We The People to put them back in place.  That too has happened in the past.  Unions gained strength for the workers that were getting crushed under Monopolies.  Women did achieve the right to vote.  The world did come together to sacrifice millions of lives to bring down tyranny.  We began to give equal rights to all persons of our country.

The Heroes of our Nation remain heroes.  America has been a force for good for centuries.  I don’t desire to minimalize the inherent goodness in the fabric of our citizens and the millions that have sacrificed for this country and for the greater good.  I don’t want this country to be torn down, I just want it to live up to it’s own ideals.  I’m cling to the quotes of past Presidents about the persistence of our better Angels and the belief that there is nothing that is wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America.  So I guess I do have a little patriotism left.

Church Clothes.

 Falling in Love is a mystery.  It’s confusing and complex. Chemicals, hormones, circumstances, serendipity, evolution, culture, and spirituality can all play a role.  It can’t be explained and yet it can’t be denied.  It just keeps happening.  Falling in Love with God is all the more nebulous.  But I don’t want to talk about if or how we can fall in love with God.  I’m going to proceed as if it is a matter of fact.

When believers fall in love with God, it presents a fundamental shift in how they view themselves and how they view the world.  In a way, at least in my case, the big change comes from not only loving something magnificent, but also realizing the implications of being loved.  When this happens, we immediately want to share what has happened to us.  We want it to happen to everyone around us.  And that would all be marvelous (and at times it is), if we didn’t handle this newfound passion so poorly.  Within us and within our systems is an almost immediate desire to take a small, wonderful thing and force it on everyone around us.  You can find this phenomenon in young couples in love, who can be obnoxious and nearly impossible to endure, not unlike new believers.  We fall in love.  Because of that feeling, we are eager to tell our story so that others may love.  Within religion, we take these very human tendencies and organize it to amplify it.  The goal of religion is to grow.  It is also a very human tendency to achieve the goal at all costs.  Somewhere along the way we fall in love with the telling itself: the show, the production, the dogma.  We lose sight of object of our love in favor of the telling.  If we are really gifted in the telling, we get rewarded for it.  That opens us up to a whole bunch of potential compromises.  Maybe we elaborate on our “telling”.  Or maybe we say it louder than necessary.  We justify lights and music and programs all with the best of intentions.  We excuse bad behavior of the most gifted tellers.  And we all get wrapped up in the success of the “telling” organization.  And there are so many good things that come from these “telling” organizations, but with any level of success, the initial love that moved us becomes secondary to the life of the organization.  Things can really get ugly when our “telling” organization feels the need to defend the “telling.”  Religious organizations and religious folks, once entrenched, are always defending their “right to tell” about their love.  What gets lost in this is the message of the love itself.

Since the beginning of the pandemic, I have undergone a fundamental shift in how I view religious behavior.  In some ways, I am merely reverting to a feeling I had as a young man.  As an over-churched youth, I didn’t have the words or maturity to describe or even understand what my objections to religion were.  I could not discern if I was merely rebellious or if my distrust was legitimate.  Yet, I don’t regret any of my time in the Church.  I very much needed it.  When I came back to faith, when I fell in love with God, I went all in on church life.  And again, I was having experiences and feelings that I didn’t  have the words for and didn’t fully understand.  Because of my lack of awareness and my lack of maturity, even in my 30’s, I overlooked a whole field of red flags. 

Now that I have taken a step away from church life, I am gaining some understanding, seeing the threads of complexity, love, and compromise that are all intertwined.  There were no thoughtful persuasions or clever arguments that moved me away from church life.  I was simply forced to stop going because of circumstances.  And within that time away, I began to see things differently.  That’s it.  I don’t have a desire to condemn the church, I just can’t participate anymore.  It seems I’m understanding more and more every day about why I feel that way.  It seems absurd but becoming comfortable with uncertainty has given me a new clarity.  Actually, there is nothing more absurd than having complete certainty in a world full of contradictions.

I heard a short clip of Sam Harris (atheist and scientist) debating a Christian.  Harris made the point that the Church, in all its years, has never changed of its own volition.   Of course, there have always been people inside of the religious systems working for change and progress, but nothing would ever happen without societal pressure from the outside of the church. This was a stunning and simple point and hard, if not impossible to deny.  Harris brings this up to point out the moral failing of religion itself. Surely, we do not want the moral perspective of the church from 300 years ago, or even 50 years ago.  What seemed to be a clear and effective condemnation from an atheist perspective was a hopeful epiphany for me.  Of course, God is using the world to change the church.  God is in everything!  This newly understood perspective made it clear as to why the isolationist messages of the church of my father and the church of my youth are so troubling.  These churches seek to set themselves apart from the very world, that according to their message, God is so desperately in love with (too).  It creates an incestuous and compromised version of God’s Grace.  That is why 17-year-old Scott turned away from God.  That is also why I remain hopeful.  Religion can make God seem so small and petty.  Love makes God seem quite big.

I’ve kept my terms intentionally generic.  I think this may be a common experience for many, but it’s also specific to my Evangelical background.  This post is a marker of sorts.  This is where I was in February of 2023: still in love with God, comfortable with uncertainty, and still seeking to understand.  I’m just a bit quieter about the “telling”. 

Jesus Remains.

My Facebook memories are punctuated with all the ups and downs of my spiritual journey.  Little time capsules capture my state of mind and my state of heart.  Over the last few years, starting Pre-Covid but accelerated by the lockdown, I have drifted from the "church".  Although I'm not interested in the labels of "Deconstruction", I clearly have a lot in common with a whole movement of folks leaving the Church.  But I am not deconstructing my faith, rather it is because of my faith that I have looked at American Christian Culture and decided I can no longer participate.  It is because I still cling to the love and acceptance of Jesus that I have shed my adherence to church-life.  That leaves me in a state of comfortable uncertainty.  I know nothing.  Through it all, Jesus remains.  And as I read through all my old posts, I am pleased to see a consistent surrender to him.  I did try my hand at theology, dogma and apologetics.  Much of my writing and metaphors are muddled and circular.  But I find comfort that after periods of perpetual doubt and examination: Jesus Remains.  I am trying to pry my image of Jesus from the religion of my youth and the churches of my re-birth.  I hope to remove the constraints of what teachers and preachers and religion imposed on God.  We attempt to make God accessible, yet we end up making God small.  I want to let my heart experience God in the grandness that belief in him would require.  If they are who they say they are, for now and for always Jesus will remain.  

I close with the theology of Kimberly Hodges. "When I heard the stories as a child and read that Jesus loves everyone, I just accepted that that meant everyone."

Gilbert Edgar Hodges

 Gilbert Edgar Hodges was born on January 26th, 1936 in San Antonio, Texas.  The following is an excerpt taken from his Baby Book:

“Little Gilbert took his first ride in an automobile (a terraplane) when Brother Ball brought us home from his birthplace on the night of February 8th.  He has had many trips downtown in our car since then.

On March 6th he was taken to board the train at San Antonio for San Francisco.  He was a real good boy all of the way except for the last day, when he was not getting enough milk.  He rode most of the way in his little basket, and in the seat with another lady (whose name we did not learn), but she paid quite a little attention to him.  

On March 26th he embarked on the “Vancouver” with his parents [Melvin and Lois Hodges] for Central America.  He was exceptionally good, but had to remain in the cabin most of the time with Chicken Pox.  The ship wrecked on April 5th and he journeyed on a special train to the capital of El Salvador.  Two days later he rode in his basket on the train to Santa Ana.  The sparks from the train burned 3 holes in his little dress.”  

Travel and adventure would remain a constant for Gilbert all of his life.  From Central America, to Idaho, to the East Coast, and all over the Midwest, he finally settled in Central Florida in 2006, perhaps craving the tropic temperatures of his youth.  Gilbert “Gil” “Gib” passed away the morning of November 3, 2022 at home in Lake Placid, Florida with his Wife Rachael by his side.  He leaves behind his wife, 6 Children, 3 Stepchildren, 22 Grandchildren and 14 Great Grandchildren.  Gil’s final weeks were filled with the love of friends and family who came to comfort and say goodbye.

Gil was the youngest of three children born to Lois and Melvin Hodges.  Gil’s sister’s, Miriam and Phyllis, preceded him in death as well as his parents.  Lois and Melvin were prominent Missionaries for the Assemblies of God Church based in Springfield, Missouri.  The entire family participated in the dangerous, rewarding, and complicated life of being Missionaries.  Melvin was an author, professor, and Head of Latin American Missionaries for the Assemblies.  The children spent much of their childhood in Central America.  The children revered their parents.  Though Mission work meant that they were often separated, they never questioned the importance of spreading the Gospel.  When the children were older they went to live with a variety of friends and relatives in the U.S.  The childhood adventures of Hodges kids are too numerous to list, but they included everything from pet monkeys to bouts of malaria.  Gil relayed previously unknown stories right up to the end, such as flying Piper Cub airplanes at the age of 14 with his pilot neighbor.  His life seemed to exist somewhere between The Mosquito Coast, Swiss Family Robinson, Huckleberry Finn, The Jungle Book and the Bible itself.  It was the intensity of these early years that forged an unyielding Faith, which carried him through the many trials of his life.  Complementing this firm, serious faith was a curious, child-like spirit.  Gil had a sizable ambition that was tempered by a sincere desire to serve.

Gil joined the Army as he left his teen years and would achieve the rank of Staff Sergeant.  He served the Signal Corps in Fort Monmouth, New Jersey.  Gil learned how to serve and command in this time.  This service, combined with his mother’s cooking and the Latin flavors of his youth led to a lifetime love of the Culinary Arts.  

Gil met Linda Stokes when they were both working at Leroy’s Drive Inn in Springfield MO.  They married in 1957.  They began their family with the arrival of their first daughter, Pamela in 1958.  Over the next 16 years they would add 5 more children to the bunch: Stephen, Julie, Jennifer, Kimberly, and Scott.  The Hodges Family moved around quite a bit in those early years.  Gil was Executive Chef at a series of prestigious stops, cooking for Heads of State and local Dignitaries.  In the mid 1970’s they settled in Virginia Illinois, moving into the big white house on Beardstown Street.  Linda and Gil took over “Rossi’s” restaurant on Virginia’s square.  They renamed it “The Virginia Inn”.  This would be a peak in Gil’s Culinary career as he was finally in full control of his vision.  Adaptation and Creativity allowed him to offer a small-town diner during the week and then transform the Inn to an upscale buffet on the weekends.  Gil and Linda were a great team and the entire family pitched in to make it work.  Based on the success of the Virginia Inn, Gil opened a Fine Dining establishment in the historic Park House Hotel in Beardstown, IL.  The endeavor delighted local diners, but it proved to be too much of an undertaking.  Over time the partnership with Linda and the Virginia Inn ended in the 1980’s.  The years after Virginia would be very challenging for Gil.  Chef jobs would take him from Illinois to Texas and back again. He tried to figure out what came next for him and how to stay connected to his children and their growing families.  His love for Jesus sustained him and Gil maintained a steadiness that would be the foundation for what was to come.  

Gil genuinely loved to feed people.  He considered good hospitality the highest honor you could show another human.  “One of my biggest rewards is making people happy.” He said in an interview in 1986.  He would continue to give his time to ministries such as Light for the Lost and he specialized at cooking great food for an enormous amount of people.   His connections in Evangelical circles would eventually lead him to Lake Williamson Christian Camp in Carlinville, IL.  Working here, he met the widow Rachael Peterson and her three sons: D’Wayne, Pete and Wes.  Rachael and Wes lived in the same apartment building as Gil on Lake Williamson.  God had plans for Gil and Rachael, and after some reluctance, Rachael permitted Gil to court her.  Gil and Rachael would marry in 1992.  This union with Rachael would prove to be the most important event in an already eventful life.  The two families did not cohesively blend right away, but over time a bond began to form that all the Peterson and Hodges kin would come to lean on.  Taking Rachael as his bride led to a deepening of Gil’s faith that would allow him to become the Man of Christ he had always longed to be.  Their commitment to service, their love of the Bible, and their heart for those around them made their marriage something far greater than each of them could have achieved on their own.  Leaning on their union, Gil and Rachael opened a restaurant together in Carlinville called Side-Trax.  This allowed Gil to scratch several itches, one being his love of trains.  In 2006, Gil and Rachael moved to Lake Placid Florida to work at Lake Placid Camp and Conference Center.  

Though in his 70’s, Gil along with Rachael worked very hard, as they had their entire lives.  Gil worked well past his Retirement party and his 85th Birthday.  This final chapter in Lake Placid was a profound one.  Gil and Rachael were inseparable and an extraordinary example of a true marital partnership.  Many came to rely on the generosity of the couple.  They were a force in their church and a staple at the local food shelter.  Gil and Rachael LOVE Jesus and his love spilled out of them at every opportunity.  Gil was honored to be called Chef for his whole career but becoming an Ordained Minister with Rachael was the perfect Capstone to his work.  Becoming a Pastor/Preacher allowed him to walk right into his father’s footsteps, teaching and ministering to those in need.  This included weekly trips to the local prison to serve the inmates and study the Bible with them.  Even in his literal final days on earth, he was bringing people to know Jesus.

The Peterson Boys would have a profound effect on Gil as he learned how to be a different kind of father.  Their energy and enthusiasm brought out a different side and he was overjoyed to call the boys “sons”.  They lovingly added “Pops” to his many monikers.  D’Wayne has been married to Jen for almost 30 years.  Pete and Claudia are newlyweds recently tying the knot in August.  Wes and Robin hit 25 years of marriage in 2022.

Gil gained even more children along the way and loved the “In Laws” just as much as his own.  Pamela married Gary Wright in 2007, and sadly he passed in 2012.  Stephen and Rhonda Hodges have been married for over 40 years. Julie and Gary Lemberg for 20 years.  Jenny Hodges is a newlywed marrying Steve Sommers in October.  Kim has been married to Michael Suchanek for 26 years. Scott and Celeste Hodges for 25 years.

Gil LOVED sports and competition of any kind, but particularly the 11-time World Champion Saint Louis Cardinals.  He was an exceptional Ping Pong Player and Chess Opponent.  In both he sought not only to win, but to frustrate you with his moves.  He must have loved golf too because he kept playing despite never improving.  

Gil lived a life perpetually in awe of how God worked.  From the smallest kindness to genuine miracles, he was always ready to praise God.  Gil never ceased in expressing his love for his friends and family.  Whether you were a dishwasher or a Great Grandchild, you always left his presence knowing that he was proud of you.  Always a great encourager, if you were excited about something, so was he.

The Four Pillars of Gilbert Edgar’s life were: Faith, Family, Food and Fundamentally Awful Humor.  Gil could engage you with a painful joke or a painful hug.  He would love you with a tender verse or a comforting meal.  Gil was a life-long learner, endlessly curious, open, and silly.  It is a testament to the depth of his character and convictions that such a playful man could live such a profound life of service.  Gilbert Edgar had an enormous impact and will be greatly missed.  As he leaves this world, he also leaves a great legacy of love, service, and laughter. These gifts will continue in the lives of those that loved him.

Linda Jeanne Hodges

 

Linda Jeanne was born on August 24, 1940.  She was the eldest of three girls born to Paul and Mary Emily Stokes in Springfield Missouri.  Paula (King) followed in 1942 and Cindy (Slentz) rounded out the family of five in 1953.  Paul, Mary Emily, and Paula “Mikey” preceded Linda in death.  Cindy survives her big sisters and lives with her husband Bob Slentz in Republic MO.  Linda always had great affection for the Springfield area and her extended family there.

Linda met Gilbert Hodges when they were both working at Leroy’s Drive Inn in Springfield MO.  They married in 1957.  They began their family with the arrival of their first daughter, Pamela in 1958.  Over the next 16 years they would add 5 more children to the bunch: Stephen, Julie, Jennifer, Kimberly, and Scott.  The Hodges Family moved around quite a bit in those early years.  In the mid 1970’s they settled in Virginia Illinois, moving into the big white house on Beardstown Street.  She and Gilbert Hodges took over “Rossi’s” restaurant on Virginia’s square.  They renamed it “The Virginia Inn”.  Linda ran the Front of House, handled personnel matters, did the bookkeeping among other titles, and proved herself to be a great manager of people.  The entire family pitched in working at the Virginia Inn. 

Over time, things changed as they always do and the partnership with Gilbert and the Virginia Inn ended in the 1980’s.  Linda then got started on an impressive second act.  She started working at Cass Telephone.  It was an administrative position to start, but her role grew as the company grew.  Linda would become an integral part of the operations of Cass Communications.  Her managerial skills, work ethic, effective communication, and her care for those she worked with made her a valued asset for the expanding company.  She retired in 2005. 

At every step in her journey, Linda Jeanne was always involved in her community, church, and the lives of those around her.  In Virginia she was a great supporter of the community: ready to pitch in with local events, fundraising and celebrations.  Linda even contributed to the local Gazette.  She had a passion for supporting woman in whatever capacity she could.  It might be a women’s Bible study or a community group.  But more often than not, it was a quiet private support of someone who needed a little help, whatever that might be.  She had an open heart for those who were struggling and always felt compelled to act.  Linda was a rock for her family, for her community and for many, many others. 

In her second act she also met her great love, Charles “Bud” Hoppin.  Bud and Linda traveled extensively, enjoyed live music, annual trips to “West Consin” and settled in at the Hoppin Farm outside of Virginia.  They were married in 1998.  She loved Bud’s kids: Sue, Pat and Betsy and cherished time with all the extended family.  Bud passed away in 2010.

Linda Jeanne gained children along the way and loved her “In Laws” just as much as her own.  Pamela married Gary Wright in 2007, and sadly he passed in 2012.  Stephen and Rhonda Hodges have been married for over 40 years. Julie and Gary Lemberg for 20 years.  Jenny Hodges will soon wed Steve Sommers.  Kim has been married to Michael Suchanek for 26 years. Scott and Celeste Hodges for 25 years.

Linda loved to spoil her 14 Grandchildren and 11 Great-Grandchildren.  In her retirement she enjoyed many travels to NYC, MN, FL, STL & Springfield, MO to be with her loved ones.  In her last few years, she lived in Springfield IL to be near her eldest daughter and devoted caregiver, Pamela Wright.

We thank the loving staff and friends at Reflections in Chatham IL, who took wonderful care of her.  Linda Jeanne Hoppin will be remembered as a wise counselor, patient mentor, savvy businessperson, enthusiastic cheerleader, excellent cook and knitter, a community advocate, fierce competitor in cards and dominoes, and a faithful wife.  Her children are in awe of the endless love and support that she provided.  We are all grateful for wonderful memories with “Grandma Linny”, who was loved “a bushel and a peck” by her many friends, nieces, nephews, children and grandchildren. 

A Comfortable Chair.

 “Aaahhh…” I said to myself.  Maybe out loud, maybe not.

I’m 65 and I think I might be dead.  I don’t have any evidence, but it’s just one of those things you kind of know.  I find myself sitting, resting in a chair.  It’s a sturdy chair, upright, nothing fancy.  It’s not a recliner.  It’s just a regular chair.  It’s firm, but not hard.  I can’t tell if it’s cushioned or not.  Everything is a bit wonky.  My vision is not quite right.  There isn't really an impairment, but it is different than a I remember.  Hmmm, what do I remember?  

This is a great chair.  But maybe it’s not the chair.  I’m pretty fit for 65.  Was.  Am.  Still not sure.  Anyway I came into this pretty fit.  I have aches and pains.  Had.  Have.  But they don’t hinder my day to day and they are dull enough that I don’t pay much attention to them, but wherever I am now, those aches have been lifted.  The chair is good, but the relief is better.  It’s like the first time you try really good drugs.  You feel relieved of all aches and burdens.  It’s like being severed from the world, a kite cut from it's string and drifting.  Peace.  Comfort.  It’s nice.   With drugs you can’t quite enjoy all of it with a clear head and of course eventually it wears off, but this feels different.  It’s more than a relief, it’s a different state of being all together.  And my vision is weird.  There is so much light.  It’s not blinding but its everywhere I look.  Except it’s different light on the periphery of my vision.  The periphery seems more focused.  I’m sitting in this chair, at ease and it seems like I’m in a meadow, with maybe a forest nearby.  It doesn’t feel like I’m out in the open though, it feels like I’m in a space.  Not a room but a space.  When I try to look at what’s in the periphery all I see is light.  The light is pleasant to look at though.  It is soothing.  Looking at the light is more like the feeling of a warm bath.  Or maybe cool water on a hot day, but without the jolt, just the refreshment.  It’s not like light at all really, but that is the only thing I can call it because it seems like I’m using my eyes to view it.  But that doesn’t seem quite right either.  The sound in this space is similarly elusive.  If I try to listen for something in particular it fades away.  Because I feel like I’m in the outdoors I expect outdoor noises and I even think I hear them, but when I try to identify the noises, they fade into something else.  But it’s not irritating, it’s…soothing.  It’s comforting.  I imagine it’s what a baby feels like when it’s being carried close to it’s mother, on the verge of sleep and the constant jostling puts the child into a state of pleasantness. In between…not quite sleeping and not quite awake.  I feel a weight in my hands.  My hands have been resting in my lap, but up until this point I have not been aware of them.  The weight feels like a magazine.  The magazine has a smooth glossy finish.  It has a heft to it.  The periphery seems to have changed to a waiting room…but still outdoors…maybe.  There may be walls, but when I try to look it is only light.  I still haven’t looked at my hands, but just felt the magazine.  If I lifted the magazine to smell it, I know what it would smell like.  As I tilt my head down to look at my hands, the magazine comes into focus.  When I look away, everything is still just the light.  But when I look at the magazine, I can see it clearly.  It seems to be some information or entertainment publication for wherever it is that I am.  I think I am dead.  Perhaps I am dreaming.  But dreams aren’t quite like this.  Although maybe they are when you are in them and it’s just that you cannot make sense of them once you are out of them.  I can’t read the title of the magazine.  I can, but I can’t.  I know what it says but I can’t put it into specific thought.  Reading the title gives me a feeling and I know what the feeling means.  I know that I have been here before, or maybe I have always been here or maybe I just knew I would be here.  Seeing and trying to read the name is like a memory that hasn’t been accessed for a very long time and once it comes back a whole flood of memories and feelings come back with it, like a whole new portion of your brain or soul just got opened.  The title of the magazine is mysterious, but the descriptions of the stories inside are very familiar and practical.  “The Limits of Humans: why they think they have them.”  “False Compassion:  Why humans try to Love without Truth.”  Oh and here’s an interesting one, “What I got wrong about Revelation. By Mark Twain pg. 18”  I flipped right to page 18.  On page 18 is a full page picture in glorious color and glossy finish.  It is the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen and I’m not even sure I really saw it.  Across the page in quotes is the famous Mark Twain quote, “It is not the things which I do not understand in the Bible which trouble me, but the things which I do understand.”  The picture is of a creature.  And even though I never saw the creature before, I knew exactly what is was.  It was from Revelation 4 “In the center, around the throne, were four living creatures, and they were covered with eyes, in front and in back.”  I remember so vividly in my living life, however long ago that was, trying to picture what a creature covered with eyes would look like.  Nothing I imagined, try as I might was anything other than grotesque.  Frightening really.  It might have been a Twain quote wondering about these creatures, that if this is what existed in Heaven, how awful must Hell be!  But in this picture it all became clear and it was beautiful and glorious and it made complete sense.  And not only that specific revelation, but so much more became clearer about those creatures.  Their presence at the throne also made sense.  It made sense in a Universal way, a Cosmic way.  All of creation felt smaller and impossibly big all at once.  Looking at this picture made me feel like I had gained the most important information of the Universe and still knew nothing.  I gasped at the realization.  I sank into my chair with the realization that I was going to have questions.  I was going to have questions based on the enormity of these new answers that I hadn’t received yet.  But how long was this going to take?  Will there be more magazines?

I remember how much I loved magazines…or love magazines…or will have loved.  Time seems woozy.  The childhood love I had of these publications seems present and now.  I can feel the stacks of National Geographic’s, old volumes given to me by my grandmother.  Smithsonian.  Sports Illustrated.  I once kept a year’s worth of T.V. Guides when I was 11 year’s old.  Eventually, we had to get rid of them as we ran out of room.  Popular Mechanics and Car and Driver were among my favorites.  I don’t know that I ever read the articles.  I skimmed the captions, and studied any infographics and diagrams, but I didn’t have much patience for actual reading.  At least not as a boy.  But I did crave information.  I think that is why this magazine is here now.  It’s my preference.  It’s familiar. 

As I pick up the magazine again, I notice a few more interesting articles.  On one page there is a centerfold illustration of a glowing bodied connected to a greying one.  The title across the top of the illustration is “Bound: Soul and Flesh intertwined.”  There are labels pointing to different parts of the illustration:  The Heart, The Head, The Wrist, etc.   Under each label was a marvelous and enlightening and succinct description of the connections between soul and flesh.  Even the properties of the elbow has implications for the soul…or perhaps the soul’s elbow has implications in the “world”.  It’s such a subtle thing.  Things that you know to be true and have always known, but with just a little enlightenment it allows you to see everything new…everything as it really is and always has been.  Consider the elbow, it’s functionality gives it purpose.  We rest upon it, we put our head in our hands while the weight of it rests upon the elbow.  With the biceps and triceps the elbow becomes a fantastic and powerful lever.  These small functions in the world have a corresponding impact on the function of our Soul.  I wish I could explain it.  If you could see the illustration you would know.  Or perhaps, maybe it is this space that allows enlightenment.  Maybe, like the chair, it is just the removal of burden that allows you to see all of the connections.  As I flip through the magazine I come to the last few pages.  “How did you get here?”  is the heading on the final page.  On the page is a picture of a face.  I know who it is, but I can’t say his name.  It’s the first time I’ve seen his face, but it is a face that has been in my consciousness for all time.  My soul’s heart enflames with such a pace that if I were still dependent on my flesh’s heart, it would have exploded.  A song bubbles up in my heart.  As the chorus rings through my head I find my lips speaking the main verse, “I trusted Je…” but I can’t quite spit it out.  In that moment I notice another presence in the space.

The periphery becomes heavily wooded.  It is cool, a refreshing cool.  It soothes the turbulent emotions I had just experienced.  I look around but can only see the Light.  That warm and comforting light.  It’s a Light that urges you to action and bids you peace all at the same moment.  In my living body this tension would have been unbearable, but now it is pure joy.  I finally rest my eyes on a familiar face that comes into focus as I scanned the space.  It’s not the face from the magazine.  It’s my face.  It’s me.

As I stand up to greet myself I feel as if I might fly off into the “atmosphere”, but I don’t.  I have a lightness.  I don’t quite feel as if I could fly or float and it’s not quite as unruly as an astronaut in zero gravity, but it’s something like that.  It is a lightness with a distinct weight, but the weight isn’t gravity.  It’s more like purpose.  Have you ever had a really great conversation and you are so in tune with the person that you are talking to and the more you talk the more that things open up and then you get really excited about where the conversation is going even though you don’t really know where it’s going.  There is a feeling that you could go anywhere, but there is also a feeling of destination that keeps you focused.  That is a bit what movement feels like in this space. 

“Hey!”  I shake hands with myself.  Self-loathing was previously an issue for me, but I find that I am genuinely excited to meet myself.

“Hey.” He says. 

“How long have you been here?” I ask.  He gets the biggest, warmest smile on his face.  He looks younger than I was.  I wonder how I look to him.  Am I old? Am I 65?  Can you determine age here?

“Seems like forever.” He says with a grin.  Because he is me I can tell that this is a joke.  It’s like an inside joke with himself.  I don’t quite get the joke, but because it is me I get a sense of the joke.  He is joking about forever and time.  He is just so pleasant.  It’s me, but not quite.  All the things I hate about myself are absent in him.  The arrogance and insecurity give way to a gentleness and patience.  It’s a knowing warmth that is not unlike what the Light feels like.  His demeanor seems to radiate without blinding in the same sort of way. 

“Look,” He begins “The thing is that you have lot’s of questions…curiosities I suppose is more accurate.  There isn’t an urgency to the questions you have, but they are still there.  In fact, the dumb questions you had in your life, which of course seemed relevant and clever at the time, are just the thumbnail to the mind-blowing questions you have now.  Does that seem right?”

“You know it does!” I say with my own playful joke.  I know he is asking just as a means of comfort for me and facilitating the process and my little joke is a way of acknowledging that.  He smiles proudly in response.  Interacting with him… it’s just so weird and wonderful.  

I was really good at Frisbee Golf in my 40’s and one time a friend recorded one of my drives in slow motion.  My form and footwork were so good and my extension and release were spot on for generating power and accuracy.  It was the best possible version of that thing at the point when I was doing that thing at my best.  I used to watch the 27 second clip over and over. It was me, but better than me.  I was obsessed, but not in a gross pride sort of way, but a sort of sweet admiration.  It was me on the video and it was me watching, but the pride I was feeling was not FOR me, but for the possibility that I could do something so well.  On Earth, if we are open to the possibility, we long for the best version of ourselves.  I mucked it up as much as the next person.  When I found surrender though, I got a different sense of what that version might be.  I tried to be of service because that seemed in line with what I should be.  But then whenever my good service got noticed I tried to leverage that into power and influence.  It was a disgusting cycle that I repeated over and over.  As painful as it was, this faint picture remained.  And now that faint picture is coming into clearer, but not quite perfect, focus.  Being with him makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.  I have a question about what this space is, but I know he is going to answer, so I just remain present in the moment. 

“It’s a point in the process.  It’s like a waiting room, but not the kind of waiting room that you are familiar with…obviously.”  He explains, anticipating my curiosity.

“It’s like I’ve never quite had to wait before…” I spit out.

“Exactly.  In your fleshy life, you never actually waited, it just felt like it because of time.  In a sense, you are waiting for the first time.”  He reinforced my statement.

“I can sort of see the edges of what that means…it all sort of happened at once, the history of things…but history isn’t quite the right word now, but it had already happened, my life that is…and history, or rather it had always happened, but I couldn’t see it all because of the slices…what are they, the foggy sort of things…”

“Time.” He said matter of fact.  “Time won’t let you see the whole thing at once.”  

My fleshy and soul heart raced as the implications:  I WILL get to see it all at once now that I’m here.

“Yes you will.” He confirmed proudly.

Awe.  You get twinges of “Awe” in your life.  We say “Awesome” way too much.  But this was my first real dose of Awe. 

“So, I’m waiting.  These magazines are just for comfort?”  I asked.  I had realized that I wasn’t going to get the answers piece by piece through these publications.  The answers were waiting on something too…waiting for me

“They are for fun.  They suit you.  They are a sort of preparation for you to receive the fullness of what is to come.  They are perspective while you still have the capacity to have perspective.”  He explained.

“Oh, because once I can see without time, I’ll lose perspective?”

“You won’t lose it, you just won’t need it.”

“So we’re waiting…are you waiting?”  I ask him.

“I’m you.”  He seemed to give a cryptic response.  But it wasn’t, somehow it was perfectly clear.  This felt like a conversation between two people, but it was actually more like a long look in the mirror.  If you had gone an eternity without seeing yourself and then you finally got a chance to, you would take your time and the discover of the new person you had become.  The discovery process would feel like a conversation.  Still, the person on the other side of the mirror had shed something that still felt present to me.

“Time.”  He said.  Then he gave me one of my favorite quotes to help explain.   “You HAVE a body, You ARE a soul.”  It’s CS Lewis quoting his idol George MacDonald.

“You, your soul, knows what is happening now, but it has been bound in your flesh for the past 65 years.  Your soul…YOU, an eternal being were dipped in flesh and as a result, dipped in time, like Achilles being dipped by the heel into the river Styx.  Your soul wriggled it’s way into Earthly existence through the conception of your parents…” He went on.

“I forgot…” I interrupted because I thought I grasped something.  I had the sense that I was something before my birth and I will be again, but in between, I forgot.

“Not quite.” He said.  “It’ll be clear enough soon, we just have to wait.  ‘HE’ has set forth something that has happened, is happening and has always happened and chose you to be a part of it.  There had to be a choosing though.”

“I see.”  I said.  I did not see.  I changed the subject, “The Connections…” I remembered the illustrations from the magazine where the soul was connected in ways to the flesh.  “I’ve shed the connections!”

“That’s right!” He said.  “But…”

“Time!” I interrupted.

“And so we wait.”  He said.  I understood, but he went on to explain anyway.  I didn’t mind.  I loved the way he explained things.  “You, your soul, you is eternal.  You have always remembered and known this about yourself, but time won’t let you see eternity.  For Moses it was the same.  The Eternal God was before him, but Moses could not see.  He would have perished from the earth if he had.  The best he could do was cleave himself in a rock and let God pass by.  Moses is such a beautiful expression of the tension…the contradiction between the eternal purposes of our creator and the temporary importance of his creation.  It’s all one though…it’s all one….”

As he continued the speak, I felt the periphery fading away.  The light got more.  Not bigger or brighter, just more.

“…and so, Time, the fading of it is like a drug wearing off.  You are here until your soul…YOU, sheds the last of Time from your being.”  He finished.

“I think it’s getting close.”  Such a fascinating concept, waiting for Time to end.  When the waiting is over it shall be clear that waiting never actually existed.  When you experience the Seasons, there are two or three moments in the year when everything is perfect: the weather, yourself, the people around you are all in perfect alignment.  And we remember and wait for those moments.  At least it feels like waiting because of time.  The reality is that those moments are always there and always present, the Kingdom of God is and has been within us the whole time. 

I looked at myself and he looked at me.  “Ready?” I said to me.  “Ready.”  As he faded and merged with me the light now overwhelmed my vision.  I wasn’t blind, but the only thing to see was perfect light.  Then in the distance, like a single star shining in a black night sky, there was a piercing light.  The brightness of this pin point made the light I had known before seem black as pitch.  The piercing light either came closer or just got bigger I could not tell.  It should have overwhelmed me but it did not.  “Birth.” I muttered to myself.

“Beginning.” I said again.

“The End.” I replied to myself in confirmation and correction.

The Fear I felt produced a great Joy.  All the magnificence and wonder and comfort and peace and satisfaction that I had felt in this space previously was obliterated by this new light.  The new light was an explosion that lasted forever, yet somehow dissolved into a new reality.  Time faded.  A new presence appeared.  Of course it wasn’t new, it was always there.  He had always been there…with me, for me and in me.

“Hello Scott.”  Jesus said.

“Hello Father, here I am.”