What if the goal of being rescued wasn't to save you from the burning building, but to put you in the arms of the Firefighter?
If you are my age and you grew up in the Church, particularly the Pentecostal version, you were given a fair dose of fear. The fire. The brimstone, whatever that is. The full burning in hell scenario. Visions of Cold War Nuclear Holocaust and the Rapture swirled together to give an overwhelming anxiety and great incentive to "Be Saved". We always knew what we were being save "From", but no sense of who we were being saved "To". We got a full dose of Lake of Fire in the sermon and then limp Felt Board Jesus in Sunday School, and there wasn't much of a connection between the two. If you gave your heart to Jesus, he would keep you from Hell...but the happy guy in Sunday School class didn't seem up to the challenge. As most of us got older, the fear subsided and we had no real vision of Jesus, we just knew that we weren't supposed to be doing bad stuff. All that was left was an arbitrary guilt. And then that guilt turned into resentment.
The Goal of the Church was and is, to save people. But in the history of "The Church" most of what we remember are the screw ups...how we as the church got it wrong. God Bless 'em, they meant well. But anytime we lead with anything other than the magnificence of Jesus, we are going to fall short...regardless of what the conversion stats say. I mean, what's the point of being saved if there is nothing more than that act. It's great in the moment, but long term, it is not enough. I think about a scene in a movie or book and there is a man on the edge of a bridge about to commit suicide. Maybe the sensitive protagonist talks him out of it, or Superman catches him as he falls. That man is saved. But if something doesn't change for him, eventually he's just going to find a bigger bridge.
Some of us knew we were in a burning building. Some of us lit the match. Sin is the cause and the effect of the burning building. It is both the personal action of the person in peril and also the very circumstances that make the destruction possible. Some folks were born into the burning building. Some folks are standing just out side of it. In the Christian community, the testimony of someone being rescued from certain self induced destruction can be one of the most powerful examples of what it means to be saved. Knowing that you are facing life and death and all hope of you having the ability to save yourself is exhausted and then somehow, Jesus saves. If you are a believer, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you are a skeptic, this probably sounds like a bumper sticker. I wish I could change that. But that's my story, a bumper sticker. I was lost, then I was found. I was dead, now I'm alive. I was quietly burning inside my own destruction. I quietly whispered a half hearted plea into my chest. Jesus quietly took me by the hand and led me out. The better story is not the burning building, but Jesus continuing to offer his hand even when I let go. He is leading me. And when I let him, it is marvelous, the most precious thing to experience. We talk a lot in the church about being saved, being talked off the ledge, pulled from the river and rescued from the building as it collapses. I suppose it makes for a better headline, easier to digest in a church service. But the bigger and better story is Jesus. He rescues us not that we can just be safe, but exactly so that we can be with him. And if skeptics aren't able to get a sense of Jesus' Love from you, then 30 minutes of describing how hot the fire is is NOT going to do the job. Being safe is good, being with Jesus is better.
1 Corinthians 1:
18 For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.
Self Destruction is not a problem for everyone. Not everyone is in the arson game. Some folks are in pretty good shape, strong and capable. They stand out side the burning building and they can't understand any of it. Why would someone start a fire? Why would they go into the fire? Why don't they come out of the fire? Now, certainly, the person in the building KNOWS they need saved. That doesn't always happen. They can't always accept it and they may perish under the flames of their own matches. But these folks on the outside have no sense that they need to be saved. They are slowly consuming the carbon monoxide to their own doom. They may perish never understanding what all the fuss was about. We have to be able show people the magnificence of a savior who would come into the wretched fire of these lives, giving up himself to make a way for all of us to be with him forever. If we cannot demonstrate the beauty of Christ, then no amount of hellfire is going to make sense. They need to be saved, just like everyone who has ever lived. But the whole point of being saved is to be with Jesus. Heaven is only Heaven because Jesus is there...He is the prize! He is worthy. And we get to be a part of his rescue mission. As others look at Christian who are active in the care of this world and it's people, I pray that our lives are so full of Jesus that we cannot help but attract others...make 'em say "Huh, wonder what that's all about?"
Jesus Birth is God taking on flesh and walking into the burning building and feeling the very real pain of sin. His Death means that he takes our place in the destruction that we might be saved. His Resurrection means that he walks out of death. He has saved us TO something, to life with him. And why wouldn't we want to be with a God that would do all of this for us!
Tuesday, April 14, 2020
Friday, March 6, 2020
Outcomes.
Mark 10:17 As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. “Good teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Proof of a Broken World (God's Wrath toward his Creation): Bad things happen to "good" people.
Proof that God's Love/Blessing is unconditional: Good things happen to "bad" people.
On the surface this looks like, feels like and smells like injustice. In fact, this apparent unfairness is a reason that many people believe that either there cannot be a God or that if there is a God, he/she cannot be Good. But the ability to discern any kind of justice or fairness at all reveals our hearts desire for it. We crave justice in our very core. And that craving comes from...where?
We all set up the equation and criteria based on what we already believe. I am no exception. I am doing it right now. But even in periods of extreme doubt, maybe because of periods of doubt, the only criteria or equation that can resolve this seeming paradox is this: Only God is Good.
And while that may be an unsatisfactory answer to someone searching for meaning, it doesn't mean that it is not true. In relation to God's perfection and holiness, there are no "good" people. We all deserve "bad" outcomes. In that context, any good thing is Grace, our very existence is Mercy, and Justice itself belongs to God. We crave Justice yes, but we also crave the Justice giver. But if we can comprehend that even the best of us is fatally flawed then we will crave Mercy and Grace even more...and we will want it not just for ourselves, but for everyone.
Only God is good and everything else falls short.
Mercy means that he has not destroyed us, we continue to exist. God has withheld judgement.
Grace means that he has poured out his Love on all, without exception, making a way to his Love for anyone who seeks it. If only God is good, then no one actually deserves his Grace, yet it is available anyway.
Justice means that because of this gap between us and God, there must be a reckoning if we are to be together with him. A cost must be paid to account for our shortcomings. A price must be paid to be in his presence.
Love means that God has made a way, that in his desire for all of his creation to be made whole he has made the ultimate sacrifice. That is why Christ's Death and Resurrection is everything. God died for us and rose again to be with us.
Jesus remains the answer to everything, he is God's Love...he is God. We cannot earn it and we cannot remove it.
Ephesians 2:1 As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, 2 in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. 3 All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh[a] and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. 4 But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5 made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.
18 “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone.
Proof of a Broken World (God's Wrath toward his Creation): Bad things happen to "good" people.
Proof that God's Love/Blessing is unconditional: Good things happen to "bad" people.
On the surface this looks like, feels like and smells like injustice. In fact, this apparent unfairness is a reason that many people believe that either there cannot be a God or that if there is a God, he/she cannot be Good. But the ability to discern any kind of justice or fairness at all reveals our hearts desire for it. We crave justice in our very core. And that craving comes from...where?
We all set up the equation and criteria based on what we already believe. I am no exception. I am doing it right now. But even in periods of extreme doubt, maybe because of periods of doubt, the only criteria or equation that can resolve this seeming paradox is this: Only God is Good.
And while that may be an unsatisfactory answer to someone searching for meaning, it doesn't mean that it is not true. In relation to God's perfection and holiness, there are no "good" people. We all deserve "bad" outcomes. In that context, any good thing is Grace, our very existence is Mercy, and Justice itself belongs to God. We crave Justice yes, but we also crave the Justice giver. But if we can comprehend that even the best of us is fatally flawed then we will crave Mercy and Grace even more...and we will want it not just for ourselves, but for everyone.
Only God is good and everything else falls short.
Mercy means that he has not destroyed us, we continue to exist. God has withheld judgement.
Grace means that he has poured out his Love on all, without exception, making a way to his Love for anyone who seeks it. If only God is good, then no one actually deserves his Grace, yet it is available anyway.
Justice means that because of this gap between us and God, there must be a reckoning if we are to be together with him. A cost must be paid to account for our shortcomings. A price must be paid to be in his presence.
Love means that God has made a way, that in his desire for all of his creation to be made whole he has made the ultimate sacrifice. That is why Christ's Death and Resurrection is everything. God died for us and rose again to be with us.
Jesus remains the answer to everything, he is God's Love...he is God. We cannot earn it and we cannot remove it.
Ephesians 2:1 As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, 2 in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. 3 All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh[a] and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. 4 But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5 made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.
Thursday, December 12, 2019
It's a Wonderful Life: Duty and Despair
I love the movie "It's a Wonderful Life". My wife does not. It makes her a little mad really. A lot mad actually. It's always been a mystery to me why she won't watch it with me. In certain areas, we just don't see things the same way. It's a mystery, but not all that surprising. She finds beauty in things that are beautiful. I am ever struggling to see the beauty in broken things. "What's that honey, another black and white picture of a desolate, abandoned barn?" is something she might comment. She mocks with love, but truly she does not "get" it. And she's not wrong in mocking. It's a little indulgent to constantly plunge myself into dark things to find beauty, when beauty is also available in a more obvious form...nearby...easily accessible. But also, it's the way I'm wired. And the way she is wired is very different, and this difference between us is expressed in the way each of us feel about the movie "It's a Wonderful Life".
I talk about this too much, but several years ago I discovered that I was a pessimist. It was such a revelation to me and really freeing in a lot of ways. I don't mean pessimism in a negative emotional way. It's just that fundamentally I cannot help but consider the worst case scenario and then to expect it to come to be. When I'm healthy mentally, that means I am prepared for when things go bad and unfazed by catastrophe. It made me well suited for Restaurant Management. When I am unhealthy, it can be nearly impossible to overcome. I become unable to see any positive outcomes. Being a pessimist makes me cautious and often times unwilling to take a chance. It also makes me pretty steady. The real joy of being a pessimist is the possibility of being overwhelmed by gratitude.
My wife is an optimist. She is the best kind of optimist because she is a hard working, practical optimist. She thinks things can and always will be better...because she's going to make sure of it. She sees things as pretty black and white. Thing either are, or are not. She indulges me, but the "why" of the way I do things will never be obvious. I think she lives in a perpetual state of gratitude, ever moving forward. When she is healthy mentally, she is working toward making things better. She is thankful and wants to make things the best they can be. When she is unhealthy, her potential for despair is crushed by her pure will. She can then become fearful and controlling. Being an optimist makes her productive and because of her heart, and she is always looking to draw people in to her world of making things better. She understands gratitude and her natural reaction to it is to keep working.
When I view late stage George Bailey I see a man who has succumb to the grind of reality. All the promise and potential of his early years are gone. He is burdened not only by the responsibilities of his family and business, but really the whole town. He is not like me, because I would have seen the disaster coming from a mile away.
(I think) When my wife views late stage George Bailey, she sees a quitter. It's the whole point of the movie, but she truly cannot understand why he doesn't see how blessed he is. My wife is someone who is not given to despair. It makes her an extraordinary strength. The few times I have seen her feel defeated have been very unsettling. The feelings that George Bailey is feeling before his adventure with Clarence the wingless Angel are foreign to her...irrelevant almost. She might say, "Be thankful for what you have and work for what you don't".
The hopelessness of George Bailey was, for long periods of my life, almost a default setting for how I felt. Before I felt the love and acceptance of Jesus Christ I relied on self-pity on the low end and delusions of grandeur when my moods swung high to get me through...to make me productive. I loved my family and I worked hard to improve, but my own efforts were not enough. Underneath it all was this baseline hopelessness, the feeling that things aren't going to work out.
I identify with Merton's expression of despair. Not at the time of course, but you get older you can see the mechanics more clearly.
“Despair is the absolute extreme of self-love. It is reached when a man (or woman) deliberately turns his back on all help from anyone else in order to taste the rotten luxury of knowing himself to be lost. In every man there is hidden some root of despair because in every man there is pride that vegetates and springs weeds and rank flowers of self-pity as soon as our own resources fail us. But because our own resources inevitably fail us, we are all more or less subject to discouragement and to despair. Despair is the ultimate development of a pride so great and so stiff-necked that it selects the absolute misery of damnation rather than accept happiness from the hands of God and thereby acknowledge that God is above us and that we are not capable of fulfilling our destiny by ourselves. But the man who is truly humble cannot despair, because in the humble man there is no longer any such thing as self-pity.” * New Seeds of Contemplation, Thomas Merton, New
I talk about this too much, but several years ago I discovered that I was a pessimist. It was such a revelation to me and really freeing in a lot of ways. I don't mean pessimism in a negative emotional way. It's just that fundamentally I cannot help but consider the worst case scenario and then to expect it to come to be. When I'm healthy mentally, that means I am prepared for when things go bad and unfazed by catastrophe. It made me well suited for Restaurant Management. When I am unhealthy, it can be nearly impossible to overcome. I become unable to see any positive outcomes. Being a pessimist makes me cautious and often times unwilling to take a chance. It also makes me pretty steady. The real joy of being a pessimist is the possibility of being overwhelmed by gratitude.
My wife is an optimist. She is the best kind of optimist because she is a hard working, practical optimist. She thinks things can and always will be better...because she's going to make sure of it. She sees things as pretty black and white. Thing either are, or are not. She indulges me, but the "why" of the way I do things will never be obvious. I think she lives in a perpetual state of gratitude, ever moving forward. When she is healthy mentally, she is working toward making things better. She is thankful and wants to make things the best they can be. When she is unhealthy, her potential for despair is crushed by her pure will. She can then become fearful and controlling. Being an optimist makes her productive and because of her heart, and she is always looking to draw people in to her world of making things better. She understands gratitude and her natural reaction to it is to keep working.
When I view late stage George Bailey I see a man who has succumb to the grind of reality. All the promise and potential of his early years are gone. He is burdened not only by the responsibilities of his family and business, but really the whole town. He is not like me, because I would have seen the disaster coming from a mile away.
(I think) When my wife views late stage George Bailey, she sees a quitter. It's the whole point of the movie, but she truly cannot understand why he doesn't see how blessed he is. My wife is someone who is not given to despair. It makes her an extraordinary strength. The few times I have seen her feel defeated have been very unsettling. The feelings that George Bailey is feeling before his adventure with Clarence the wingless Angel are foreign to her...irrelevant almost. She might say, "Be thankful for what you have and work for what you don't".
The hopelessness of George Bailey was, for long periods of my life, almost a default setting for how I felt. Before I felt the love and acceptance of Jesus Christ I relied on self-pity on the low end and delusions of grandeur when my moods swung high to get me through...to make me productive. I loved my family and I worked hard to improve, but my own efforts were not enough. Underneath it all was this baseline hopelessness, the feeling that things aren't going to work out.
I identify with Merton's expression of despair. Not at the time of course, but you get older you can see the mechanics more clearly.
“Despair is the absolute extreme of self-love. It is reached when a man (or woman) deliberately turns his back on all help from anyone else in order to taste the rotten luxury of knowing himself to be lost. In every man there is hidden some root of despair because in every man there is pride that vegetates and springs weeds and rank flowers of self-pity as soon as our own resources fail us. But because our own resources inevitably fail us, we are all more or less subject to discouragement and to despair. Despair is the ultimate development of a pride so great and so stiff-necked that it selects the absolute misery of damnation rather than accept happiness from the hands of God and thereby acknowledge that God is above us and that we are not capable of fulfilling our destiny by ourselves. But the man who is truly humble cannot despair, because in the humble man there is no longer any such thing as self-pity.” * New Seeds of Contemplation, Thomas Merton, New
Directions Paperback, first published 1961. Pgs. 180-190.
It's this kind of self indulgent Pride that is an obvious flag to my wife. She sees through it right away. When I had come to the revelation that I was indeed a pessimist, I expressed it to my wife with a sort of giddy excitement.
"Honey, I've realized something pretty interesting about myself that explains a lot...I think I'm a pessimist!"
To which she responded, "Ya think?" in an appropriately sarcastic tone. She then rattled off years of examples of this obvious revelation. This exchange brings me joy...that I'll work so hard to discover something so obvious and she'll still be there waiting for me. There is just something about me that causes me to tease and pull apart, test and purify, to examine and discover things that are otherwise immediately obvious to her. We are both a mystery to each other in that way. As our marriage has grown stronger, we have come to love that about each other. Much like Donna Reed in the movie, my wife is patient, wise, steady and supportive...also stunningly beautiful. Mrs. Bailey, foolishly and hopelessly in love with a fool waits and hopes for her husband to discover what is so painfully obvious to her.
I'll always view the world through a sort of despairing fog. But I also have hope. Because of this Hope, I can push through the fog, knowing that good things lie beyond. I am blessed beyond measure. I am privileged to Love, to be Loved and to have always known Love. It is only through the ultimate Love of Christ that I have been able to accept this. My wife will always work with purpose and duty. It can make her blind to things she does not want to see, it can make it hard to accept things as they really are. But it is her Love for Jesus that calms her and puts her at ease when her own flesh tells her she should be earning his Love. As George Bailey finally realizes how good he has it he is overwhelmed with Gratitude. And it's not just gratitude for what he actually has, but gratitude for the opportunity to see it. This is what gets me, because this happens to me now on a regular basis. In spite of my potential to dip into the dark, there are moments when the beauty of this Life and it's participants just become so obvious that I am crushed with joy. I'm usually the last to go to bed each night. As I'm locking doors and flipping off lights my subconscious does a George Bailey sort of check list of what things could be and what they really are. Yes, there is plenty to despair about but then: look at these children, look at this roof over our head, look at what I have made with this amazing woman. It's the type of gratitude that you just can't work for, you can't count your blessings and talk yourself into it. It's a gratitude that is a pure gift of God. And though I am blessed beyond what I deserve, it is a gratitude that would be present in any circumstances. It's a gratitude I have felt in my darkest moments. I suppose that is why I explore the way I do and plumb the depths of this human condition. It's the strangest sort of optimism to expect to find Hope where there appears to be none...to look for beauty in the broken. It's the strangest optimism and it seems like a contradiction. We even wear a symbol of pain around our necks that represents joy. We look upon a instrument of torture in the cross and see the ultimate hope for us all. We celebrate a baby and call him the Savior. I'm not saying it makes sense, but I am saying that it is true.
It's this kind of self indulgent Pride that is an obvious flag to my wife. She sees through it right away. When I had come to the revelation that I was indeed a pessimist, I expressed it to my wife with a sort of giddy excitement.
"Honey, I've realized something pretty interesting about myself that explains a lot...I think I'm a pessimist!"
To which she responded, "Ya think?" in an appropriately sarcastic tone. She then rattled off years of examples of this obvious revelation. This exchange brings me joy...that I'll work so hard to discover something so obvious and she'll still be there waiting for me. There is just something about me that causes me to tease and pull apart, test and purify, to examine and discover things that are otherwise immediately obvious to her. We are both a mystery to each other in that way. As our marriage has grown stronger, we have come to love that about each other. Much like Donna Reed in the movie, my wife is patient, wise, steady and supportive...also stunningly beautiful. Mrs. Bailey, foolishly and hopelessly in love with a fool waits and hopes for her husband to discover what is so painfully obvious to her.
I'll always view the world through a sort of despairing fog. But I also have hope. Because of this Hope, I can push through the fog, knowing that good things lie beyond. I am blessed beyond measure. I am privileged to Love, to be Loved and to have always known Love. It is only through the ultimate Love of Christ that I have been able to accept this. My wife will always work with purpose and duty. It can make her blind to things she does not want to see, it can make it hard to accept things as they really are. But it is her Love for Jesus that calms her and puts her at ease when her own flesh tells her she should be earning his Love. As George Bailey finally realizes how good he has it he is overwhelmed with Gratitude. And it's not just gratitude for what he actually has, but gratitude for the opportunity to see it. This is what gets me, because this happens to me now on a regular basis. In spite of my potential to dip into the dark, there are moments when the beauty of this Life and it's participants just become so obvious that I am crushed with joy. I'm usually the last to go to bed each night. As I'm locking doors and flipping off lights my subconscious does a George Bailey sort of check list of what things could be and what they really are. Yes, there is plenty to despair about but then: look at these children, look at this roof over our head, look at what I have made with this amazing woman. It's the type of gratitude that you just can't work for, you can't count your blessings and talk yourself into it. It's a gratitude that is a pure gift of God. And though I am blessed beyond what I deserve, it is a gratitude that would be present in any circumstances. It's a gratitude I have felt in my darkest moments. I suppose that is why I explore the way I do and plumb the depths of this human condition. It's the strangest sort of optimism to expect to find Hope where there appears to be none...to look for beauty in the broken. It's the strangest optimism and it seems like a contradiction. We even wear a symbol of pain around our necks that represents joy. We look upon a instrument of torture in the cross and see the ultimate hope for us all. We celebrate a baby and call him the Savior. I'm not saying it makes sense, but I am saying that it is true.
Sunday, October 27, 2019
Awful Beauty.
The beautiful. The awful. The heart of man and woman.
We read old things, 100 year old books or 1000 year old stories and we marvel that such simple folks could predict so well the current state of affairs. We are amazed at their inspired writing, that somehow in their primitive state that they could muse about the future so accurately. But it is our own dim arrogance that calls it prophecy. Someone writing about the state of the world all those years ago and yet we can only view our own present sufferings. Things are awful, but that is nothing new. The characters have changed, but their character has not. The details may seem more perverse, but they are not...they are the same...they are the same as Orwell or Shakespeare or Steinbeck or Solomon described. It is beautiful and it is awful. It is the heart of man and woman. There is nothing new under the sun. Things seem bleak, but they wax and wane, build up and destroy. The darkness cannot endure forever though, it is temporary. Hope is more than light in a dark place, it is the very permanence of our universe. It's okay that we can't conceive of it. Hopes existence doesn't rely on our belief. It will prevail because that is it's very nature, the nature of God. God is Eternal, Hope is Eternal, Despair is fleeting. God is Love. Perfect Love drives out Fear.
I take weird comfort in our discomfort...it can only be temporary. Not that it is not awful, it truly is. Many suffer on enormous scale. That's what makes things all the more miraculous when something beautiful can shift the weight of the universe so easily. Something small and sweet can overcome a mountain of misery. It's because the beauty speaks of the Eternal. Even if the bondage of time only allows us a glimpse, it is enough for our souls to recognize home, to see the truth of what things are meant to be and what they will be. To gain Hope. Eternity is more than "a really long time". Eternity is those truest moments made full, absent of the fog of time, Hope fulfilled. Eternity with Christ is an ecstatic gasp that never ends. Awe.
We read old things, 100 year old books or 1000 year old stories and we marvel that such simple folks could predict so well the current state of affairs. We are amazed at their inspired writing, that somehow in their primitive state that they could muse about the future so accurately. But it is our own dim arrogance that calls it prophecy. Someone writing about the state of the world all those years ago and yet we can only view our own present sufferings. Things are awful, but that is nothing new. The characters have changed, but their character has not. The details may seem more perverse, but they are not...they are the same...they are the same as Orwell or Shakespeare or Steinbeck or Solomon described. It is beautiful and it is awful. It is the heart of man and woman. There is nothing new under the sun. Things seem bleak, but they wax and wane, build up and destroy. The darkness cannot endure forever though, it is temporary. Hope is more than light in a dark place, it is the very permanence of our universe. It's okay that we can't conceive of it. Hopes existence doesn't rely on our belief. It will prevail because that is it's very nature, the nature of God. God is Eternal, Hope is Eternal, Despair is fleeting. God is Love. Perfect Love drives out Fear.
I take weird comfort in our discomfort...it can only be temporary. Not that it is not awful, it truly is. Many suffer on enormous scale. That's what makes things all the more miraculous when something beautiful can shift the weight of the universe so easily. Something small and sweet can overcome a mountain of misery. It's because the beauty speaks of the Eternal. Even if the bondage of time only allows us a glimpse, it is enough for our souls to recognize home, to see the truth of what things are meant to be and what they will be. To gain Hope. Eternity is more than "a really long time". Eternity is those truest moments made full, absent of the fog of time, Hope fulfilled. Eternity with Christ is an ecstatic gasp that never ends. Awe.
Wednesday, September 18, 2019
East of Eden: The Glory of Man.
"Sometimes
a kind of glory lights up the mind of a man.
It happens to nearly everyone. You can feel it growing or preparing like a fuse burning toward dynamite. It is a feeling in the stomach, a delight of the nerves, of the forearms. The skin tastes the air, and every deep-drawn breath is sweet. Its beginning has the pleasure of a great stretching yawn; it flashes in the brain and the whole world glows outside your eyes. A man may have lived all of his life in the gray, and the land and trees of him dark and somber. The events, even the important ones, may have trooped by faceless and pale. And then -the glory- so that a cricket song sweetens his ears, the smell of the earth rises chanting to his nose, and dappling light under a tree blesses his eyes. Then a man pours outward, a torrent of him, and yet he is not diminished. And I guess a man's importance in the world can be measured by the quality and number of his glories. It is a lonely thing but it relates us to the world. It is the mother of all creativeness, and it sets each man separate from all other men.
I don't know how it will be in the years to come. There are monstrous changes taking place in the world, forces shaping a future whose face we do not know. Some of these forces seem evil to us, perhaps not in themselves but because their tendency is to eliminate other things we hold good. It is true that two men can lift a bigger stone than one man. A group can build automobiles quicker and better than one man, and bread from a huge factory is cheaper and more uniform. When our food and clothing and housing all are born in the complication of mass production, mass method is bound to get into our thinking and to eliminate all other thinking. In our time mass or collective production has entered our economics, our politics, and even our religion, so that some nations have substituted the idea collective for the idea God. This in my time is the danger. There is great tension in the world, tension toward a breaking point, and men are unhappy and confused.
At such a time it seems natural and good to me to ask myself these questions. What do I believe in? What must I fight for and what must I fight against?
Our species is the only creative species, and it has only one creative instrument, the individual mind and spirit of man. Nothing was ever created by two men. There are no good collaborations, whether in music, in art, in poetry, in mathematics, in philosophy. Once the miracle of creation has taken place, the group can build and extend it, but the group never invents anything. The preciousness lies in the lonely mind of a man.
And now the forces marshaled around the concept of the group have declared a war of extermination on that preciousness, the mind of man. By disparagement, by starvation, by repressions, forced direction, and the stunning hammerblows of conditioning, the free, roving mind is being pursued, roped, blunted, drugged. It is a sad suicidal course our species seems to have taken.
And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. And this I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected. And this I must fight against: any idea, religion, or government which limits or destroys the individual. This is what I am and what I am about. I can understand why a system built on a pattern must try to destroy the free mind, for this is one thing which can by inspection destroy such a system. Surely I can understand this, and I hate it and I will fight against it to preserve the one thing that separates us from the uncreative beasts. If the glory can be killed, we are lost."
It happens to nearly everyone. You can feel it growing or preparing like a fuse burning toward dynamite. It is a feeling in the stomach, a delight of the nerves, of the forearms. The skin tastes the air, and every deep-drawn breath is sweet. Its beginning has the pleasure of a great stretching yawn; it flashes in the brain and the whole world glows outside your eyes. A man may have lived all of his life in the gray, and the land and trees of him dark and somber. The events, even the important ones, may have trooped by faceless and pale. And then -the glory- so that a cricket song sweetens his ears, the smell of the earth rises chanting to his nose, and dappling light under a tree blesses his eyes. Then a man pours outward, a torrent of him, and yet he is not diminished. And I guess a man's importance in the world can be measured by the quality and number of his glories. It is a lonely thing but it relates us to the world. It is the mother of all creativeness, and it sets each man separate from all other men.
I don't know how it will be in the years to come. There are monstrous changes taking place in the world, forces shaping a future whose face we do not know. Some of these forces seem evil to us, perhaps not in themselves but because their tendency is to eliminate other things we hold good. It is true that two men can lift a bigger stone than one man. A group can build automobiles quicker and better than one man, and bread from a huge factory is cheaper and more uniform. When our food and clothing and housing all are born in the complication of mass production, mass method is bound to get into our thinking and to eliminate all other thinking. In our time mass or collective production has entered our economics, our politics, and even our religion, so that some nations have substituted the idea collective for the idea God. This in my time is the danger. There is great tension in the world, tension toward a breaking point, and men are unhappy and confused.
At such a time it seems natural and good to me to ask myself these questions. What do I believe in? What must I fight for and what must I fight against?
Our species is the only creative species, and it has only one creative instrument, the individual mind and spirit of man. Nothing was ever created by two men. There are no good collaborations, whether in music, in art, in poetry, in mathematics, in philosophy. Once the miracle of creation has taken place, the group can build and extend it, but the group never invents anything. The preciousness lies in the lonely mind of a man.
And now the forces marshaled around the concept of the group have declared a war of extermination on that preciousness, the mind of man. By disparagement, by starvation, by repressions, forced direction, and the stunning hammerblows of conditioning, the free, roving mind is being pursued, roped, blunted, drugged. It is a sad suicidal course our species seems to have taken.
And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. And this I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected. And this I must fight against: any idea, religion, or government which limits or destroys the individual. This is what I am and what I am about. I can understand why a system built on a pattern must try to destroy the free mind, for this is one thing which can by inspection destroy such a system. Surely I can understand this, and I hate it and I will fight against it to preserve the one thing that separates us from the uncreative beasts. If the glory can be killed, we are lost."
Friday, September 6, 2019
Dead Man
If we had our way, we'd have pulled Christ off the cross and propped his lifeless body up like a puppet. We'd have draped an American flag (or whatever symbol suits you) around him and called him king and then rule by our own agenda. Never letting him be buried. Never permitting his resurrection. Never declaring him master of all. And never receiving salvation.
Tuesday, September 3, 2019
LJH
Here I am.
Leave me alone.
I need friends.
I don't want to be bothered.
So tired of being lonely,
Around all of these people.
I want to be unburdened...free.
Won't someone take care of me?
I've lived life to gather memories.
Now.
Now.
Now.
All I have is this moment.
All I have is this moment.
All I have...
I'm so focused on my distraction,
Persistent in my dissatisfaction,
I long to be settled,
I long for extraction.
With the past dissolving,
Dripping away,
I can only dwell on the future.
I CAN SAVE MYSELF!
who will help?
NOTHING IS WRONG!
what happened?
Just forget it.
Just forget it.
Just...
You don't care so
Just forget it.
Must I remind you again, to just forget it?
Forget it, forget me,
Forget Memory.
Did you remember what I told you?
When?
Now?
Now?
Now?
All I have is this moment.
No big ending.
No Grand Finale.
No Graceful Finish.
Just a drip, drip, drip...
Dripping away.
Now.
All I have is this moment.
Drip.
I am not beyond hope, but hope is somewhere beyond.
Now, all I have is this moment.
All I have...
Is now.
Leave me alone.
I need friends.
I don't want to be bothered.
So tired of being lonely,
Around all of these people.
I want to be unburdened...free.
Won't someone take care of me?
I've lived life to gather memories.
Now.
Now.
Now.
All I have is this moment.
All I have is this moment.
All I have...
I'm so focused on my distraction,
Persistent in my dissatisfaction,
I long to be settled,
I long for extraction.
With the past dissolving,
Dripping away,
I can only dwell on the future.
I CAN SAVE MYSELF!
who will help?
NOTHING IS WRONG!
what happened?
Just forget it.
Just forget it.
Just...
You don't care so
Just forget it.
Must I remind you again, to just forget it?
Forget it, forget me,
Forget Memory.
Did you remember what I told you?
When?
Now?
Now?
Now?
All I have is this moment.
No big ending.
No Grand Finale.
No Graceful Finish.
Just a drip, drip, drip...
Dripping away.
Now.
All I have is this moment.
Drip.
I am not beyond hope, but hope is somewhere beyond.
Now, all I have is this moment.
All I have...
Is now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)