I've Been Thinking About Death Recently.....

******CAUTION!!!!!!DANGER!!!!!PELIGROSO!!!!!****** THIS BLOG POST CONTAINS RELIGIOUS AND RELIGIOUS LIKE SUBSTANCES. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

I felt the need to add that (not) funny disclaimer. But as the title implies. Death is the topic today. (Appropriate on Good Friday......Right....?)

Have you ever started reading a book and been so involved in the story that you had to skip to the last page to find out the end? What happens when you go back to reading the book? Its kind of spoiled right? You totally miss out on the mystery and discovery of an unfolding story.

As people living 2000 years later we have a blessing that, in my opinion, is the greatest blessing we have. We know how the story ends. The tomb is empty, the gates are flung wide open, and Jesus is alive. Death is conquered and the New Covenant is upon us. Let Love and Freedom reign.

But.....What if this isn't a blessing at all? What if its a curse? What if in our understanding of the "whole picture" we have missed out on something important in between because we have "skipped to the end"?

Does "Let Down" even begin to describe the experience of Jesus's execution? After following this man for three years he made promises. He raised expectations. He was going to liberate Israel and kick the Romans out. He was going to make things "Right".

I think about what it would like like and feel like to be there. To have had Jesus teach you that it is okay to be brave enough to hope. To hope for a better world. To hope for better relationships. To hope that things don't have to look the way they do. And then to look at that hope in the lifeless eyes of your teacher, your best friend, your son. What do you feel?

Sorrow?

Anger?

Regret?

If you are Peter what is going through your mind?! Do you feel betrayed yet guilty because you know that you too have betrayed? Do wonder, "Why him?" or "It should have been me."?

What would it have been like in those days between the crucifixion and resurrection? How heavy would your shoulders be? How often would you wonder if everything you believed in was a lie?

Was untrue?

Would you give up? or Carry on?

Why did I follow in the first place?

Story Time:

It has been said that on the day Christ was crucified a group of followers packed their few belongings and set off to find a new home. They were so distraught that they could not bear to stay in the place where Jesus had been executed. So they left, never to return, and after travelling thousands of miles, they set up an isolated village far from civilization. Once settled, they each took an oath to protect the memory of Jesus and live by his teaching.

Then one day, after 300 years of solitude, a small band of Christian missionaries reached the isolated settlement and were amazed to find a community of people living the sacrificial way that Christ had taught, yet who possessed no knowledge of his subsequent resurrection and ascension. Without hesitation the missionaries called the entire community together and taught them what had occurred after the crucifixion.

That evening, there was a great celebration in the camp. Yet, as the night progressed, one of the missionaries noticed that the leader of the community was absent. This bothered the young man and so he set out to look for the community elder, whom he eventually found in a small hut on the fringe of the village, praying and weeping.

‘Why are you in such sorrow?’ asked the missionary in amazement. ‘Today is a day for great celebration!’

‘A day for great celebration and great sorrow,’ replied the elder, who was all the while crouching on the floor. ‘For over 300 years we have followed the ways taught to us by Christ. We followed his ways faithfully, even though it cost us deeply, and we remained resolute despite the fear that death defeated him and would one day defeat us also.’

The elder slowly got to his feet and looked the missionary compassionately in the face.

‘Each day we have forsaken our very lives for him because we judge him wholly worthy of the sacrifice, wholly worthy of our being. But now I am concerned that my children and my children’s children may follow him not because of the implicit value he has, but because of the value that he possesses for them.’

With this the elder left the hut and made his way to the celebration, leaving the missionary to his thoughts. (Peter Rollins)

I admit that I write this entry through the very narrow lens of my own current experiences. And so I find myself asking the question, "Why do I follow Jesus?" Do I follow because of the promises? Because of what I think I may gain through this. Peace of Mind. Heaven. Friends. A place to belong. What happens when those promises shatter? Is it still worth following? Devoting? Dying?

Or, do I follow because....

I close my "spiritual writings" with this verse because I want to remind myself and other people that I don't write things like this because I have "answers" or have things "figured out".

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.

OH MY GOD! NOOOOO!!!

It came out of nowhere and was on me in a flash. (Okay under me....And....Not really ME per se but my giant gas guzzling SUV.) After a split second of hesitation I swerve hoping to dodge the poor, innocent woodland creature, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. Just as I swerve to miss the possum, it decides, in its boundless wisdom, to run back underneath Nature's Lament.

(The new name of my truck I think.) THUMP! CRACK! ONOMATOPOEIA! And just like that I knew the little fuzzball had met its maker.

The worse was the frozen looks on his face. (Or her face.....Oh Dear God not HER face....Did it have babies!!!!??? What have I done!?) The stunned yet forlorn look on it's face has been burned indelibly on my mind and soul since.

Immediately after, I couldn't help but wonder. Did it die quickly or did it suffer? Should I go back? Why did it run back underneath Nature's Lament? Is there something else I could have done? I wonder what it would be like to suddenly look up at and have two giant orbs bearing down on you as bright as the sun, and the powerlessness you would feel in that split second. (I am going to go with "bad". It would feel "bad".)

At this point in the narrative I feel the overwhelming need to make "a point". I could talk about the fragility of life. (Just thinking about talking on that just seems pretentious.) I could talk about the two glowing orbs as the eyes of God and how sometimes in life we feel like God just "runs us over". But, at this point I can't help but picture God as a giant fat man driving a rusted out pick-truck with a rifle, a can of beer, hunter's vest, and greasy hair that flows majestically from underneath a mesh trucker's hat.* He, of course, is laughing maniacally as he hunts the possum. (Yes I am the possum.) I could even talk about me being the driver and how I have (metaphorically) "ran over" people I care about in my inability to pay close attention to the "road". (You people know who you are.)

Meh. In reality I ran over possum and felt bad. Thought I would share.

*If I offended any trucker's hats I apologize. I recognize and am grateful for your contribution to culture over the years.

Questioning?

So after seeing Adjustment Bureau for the 2nd time tonight I was asked if I liked it. I then said in a short sentence, "I did because I enjoyed the theological questions that the movie raised." I was then promptly scoffed at and that was promptly the end of the conversation. That being said the movie made me think of this parable from Peter Rollins' book, "The Fidelity of Betrayal"

There was once a small town filled with believers who sought to act always in obedience to the voice of God. When faced with difficult situations the leaders of the community would often be found deep in prayer, or searching the Scriptures for guidance and wisdom.

Late one evening, in the middle of winter, a young man from the neighboring city arrived at the gates of the town’s little church seeking refuge. The caretaker immediately let him in and, seeing that he was hungry and cold, provided a meal and some warm clothes. After he had eaten, the young man explained how he had fled the city because the authorities had labeled him a political dissident. It turned out that the man had been critical of both the government and the church in his work as a journalist. The caretaker brought the young man back to his home and allowed him to stay until a plan had been worked out concerning what to do next.

When the priest was informed about what had happened, he called the leaders of the town together in order to work out what ought to be done. After an intense discussion it was agreed that the man should be handed over to the authorities in order to face up to the charges that had been made against him. But the caretaker protested, saying, “This man has committed no crimes, he has merely criticized what he believes to be the injustices perpetrated by authorities in the name of God.”

“What you say may be true,” replied the priest, “but his presence puts the whole of this town in danger. What if the authorities find out where he is and learn that we protected him.”

But the caretaker refused to hand him over to the priest, saying, “He is my guest, and while he is under my roof I will ensure that no harm comes to him. If you take him from me by force then I will publicly attest to having helped him and suffer the same injustice as my guest.”

The caretaker was well loved by the people, and the priest had no intention of letting something happen to him. So the leaders went away again and this time searched the
Scriptures for an answer, for they knew that the caretaker was a man of deep faith. After a whole night of poring over the Scriptures the leaders came back to the caretaker, saying, “We have read the sacred book all through the night seeking guidance and found that it tells us that we must respect the authorities of this land and witness to the truth of faith through submission to them.”

But the caretaker also knew the sacred words of Scripture, and he told them that the Bible also asked that we care for those who suffer and are persecuted. There and then the leaders began to pray fervently. They beseeched God to speak to them, not as a still small voice in their conscience, but rather in the way that he had spoken to Abraham and
Moses. They begged that God would communicate directly to them and to the caretaker so that the issue could finally be resolved. Sure enough, the sky began to darken, and God descended from heaven, saying, “The priest and elders speak the truth, my friend. In order to protect the town this man must be handed over to the authorities.”

The caretaker, a man of deep faith, looked up to heaven and replied, “If you want me to remain faithful to you, my God, then I can do nothing but refuse your advice. For you have already demanded that I look after this man. You have written that I must protect him at all costs. Your words of love have been spelled out by the lines of this man’s face, your text is found in the texture of his flesh. And so, my God, I defy you precisely so as to remain faithful to you.”

With this God smiled and quietly withdrew, confident that the matter had finally been settled.

Hmmm........

I admit that I have been oh so very lazy in my writing over the holidays. Lets call it writer's block. (It sounds better) I know all of you are breathless with anticipation for more of my particular brand of whimsy, but you must wait longer. In the meantime enjoy the words of a man much brighter and more articulate than I can ever hope to be.

"There was once a fiery preacher who possessed a powerful but unusual gift. He found that, from an early age, when he prayed for individuals, they would supernaturally lose all of their religious convictions. They would invariably loose all of their beliefs about the prophets, the sacred Scriptures, and even God. So he learned not to pray for people but instead limited himself to preaching inspiring sermons and doing good works.

However, one day while travelling across the country, the preacher found himself in conversation with a businessman who happened to be going in the same direction. This businessman was a very powerful and ruthless merchant banker, one who was honoured by his collegues and respected by his adversaries.

their conversation began because the businessman, possessing a deep, abiding faith, had noticed the preacher reading from the Bible. He introduced himself to the preacher and they began to talk. As they chatted together this powerful man told the preacher all about his faith in God and his love of Christ. He spoke of how his work di not really define who he was but was simply what he had to do.

"The world of business is a cold one," he confided to the preacher, "and in my line of work I find myself in situations that challenge my Christian convictions. But I try, as much as possible, to remain true to my faith. Indeed, I attend a local church every Sunday, participate in a prayer circle, engage in some youth work, and contribute to a weekly Bible study. These activities help to remind me of who I really am."

After listening carefully to the businessman's story, the preacher began to realize the purpose of his unseemly gift. So he turned to the businessman and said, "Would you allow me to pray a blessing into your life?"

The businessman readily agreed, unaware of what would happen. Sure enough, after the preacher had muttered a simple prayer the man opened his eyes in astonishment.

"What a fool I have been for all these years!" he proclaimed. "It is clear to me now that there is no God above who is looking out for me, and that there are no sacred texts to guide me, and there is no Spirit to inspire and and protect me."

As they parted company the businessman, still confused by what had taken place, returned home. But now that he no longer had any religious beliefs, he began to find it increasingly difficult to continue in his line of work. Faced with the fact that he was now just a hard-nosed businessman working in a corrupt system, rather than a man of God, he began to despise his activity. Within months he had a breakdwon, and soon afterward gave up his line of work completely. Feeling better about himself, he then wnet on to give to the poor all the riches he had accumulated and began to use his considerable managerial expertise to challenge the very system he once participated in, and to help those who had been oppressed by it.

One day, many years later, he happened upon the preacher again while walking thorugh town. He ran over, fell at the preacher's feet, and began to weep with joy. Eventually he looked up at the preacher and smiled, "Thank you, my dear friend, for helping me discover my faith." -Peter Rollins "The Fidelity of Betrayal"