In the middle of a frenetic two week schedule, I sit here on a plane thinking about death, eating a questionable snack, watching the landscape slide past the window.
In the hour before I boarded I heard the news. A friend has been killed in the shooting massacre at the Nairobi shopping mall. I feel speechless, with a churning emotion that I'm coming to know too well. I want to know the details of how he died, but for the moment I'm disconnected and all I know is a shot to the head. I want to talk it through, but I'm stuck on a plane, so I write. He was a larger than life person, visionary in outlook, compassionate, always choosing to see the glass half full rather than half empty. He could be very frustrating in the way he dismissed details as mere trivia to be easily dealt with, but he did this, I think, because he had a bigger perspective on life than many of us do. He saw possibilities in situations that others found hopeless. I think that if he knew he was about to die, even there he would have seen the positive … “I'm going to Jesus.” He loved Jesus, a love that filtered into all he did and said. He was not my very close friend - as in the closeness of those that frequent one's social circle - rather he was one of those friends that you know from childhood and with who you share a familiarity of experience and a common worldview. When your paths cross you pick up the conversation as if it was yesterday. I last spoke with him a few months ago as we unexpectedly met in an airport lounge, and we shared a conversation that ranged far and wide and deep. Now he's dead. Murdered by angry men fighting in the name of ideology, killing the unrelated innocent in retribution for not having their own way, like a temper tantrum child. And they leave a family in loss, leave friends to grieve. Or should I say, now he's alive. Alive with God, because that is what he and I believe. Right now he's experiencing a reality I can only dream about, and yearn for myself. The suffering in the death of a Christian is for those who are left behind. Its the loss of a relationship (for now) that enriched our lives. And if I'm totally honest, there's also a twinge of envy that he now knows the home I long for and have yet to experience. His death tells me again that I am a stranger living in an alien land. Every time I personally encounter someone's death it brings perspective to my life. I'm reminded again that my problems and challenges are only that, simply transient problems and challenges that in time will pass. This is not to trivialize them - they're real and present - but these difficulties pale in comparison with that one small step into eternity. So I raise my plastic cup of airplane fruit juice in celebration of him. In sincere thanks to God for a life well lived, for a homecoming well deserved, for a legacy that shows God's love to the poor and the lost, for a faithful husband, for a loving father. Here's to him, God is good.
0 Comments
Are we all relational communists? Free love ... what an oxymoron. Rather a case of "who's paying", but more about that below. Communism ... I can see the idealistic attraction of communism. Communism has outrage against exploitation framed in a subjective morality. Theoretically it operates through the power of human altruism, but ultimately fails because altruism is weaker than selfishness, and so ends up bringing the masses to a lowest common denominator all for the privilege of a few (not unlike western capitalism). Christianity ... very close to communism, think of the golden rule! Christianity is rooted in a relational truth under the authority of a God who gives us the ultimate relationship enhancer - free will. Of course, that's where where problems arise as we play outside the blueprint and use the freedom to ignore the relationship, make our own rules, and let selfishness triumph. All these approaches to life - Christianity, communism, capitalism, democracy, monarchies, dictatorships, military councils, religious government - all have their rules. Life has rules. Rules are an inevitable result when you have structure in a sea of chaos (actually, even chaos has rules which raises some interesting side thoughts). But we make a huge mistake when we think the rules are the end point: rules are only an expression of the underlying intent. The law of marriage expresses an underlying and inherent nature of human partnership. The rules of communism express an ideology. The rules of Christianity (theoretically) express a love relationship. The rule of free love is that you may not put any constraints on me. Like it or not, we live by rules, even if they're the paradoxical rule of "I will have no rules", or that you must "tolerate everything except intolerance" (my personal pet hate). So to "free love". Love requires rules. Else where's the freedom? To love someone is an action built on a decision motivated sometimes by feeling, sometimes by a morality. Anyone who has been in a relationship longer than the hormonal stage of lust knows this ... the Hollywood dilution of love as a "happily ever after" is not an experienced reality. Relationship is built on rules, rules of the "game" where we can strive to reach for that peak of truth; relationship. Make my own rules, and I have a recipe for conflict. Break the rules, and I break the relationship. Break the relationship and I cause harm, not just to the other person, but I harm my own nature as a relational creature. Free love ... huh. Love is darned expensive! So then, what is the personal response of Christianity, Communism, and Love to things like the global wealth inequality, or to using the "rules" to make the rich richer? Make no mistake, although these are a consequence of communities, governments, and power blocs, the actions and response are by individuals, whether through apathy, passivity, or explicit engagement. This is relationship; to engage others. This is love; to desire the best for others. Why do we have so few love relationships? Aren't most of us actually relational communists? We ideologically say "everyone deserves a chance at love" while what we really mean is "I want my share out of this and don't you exploit me for your gain." Christ (not Christianity) points to a relationship that goes beyond our personal capacity to sustain. Even non-Christians and other religions acknowledge this. History shows this. But that is no excuse not to try, again and again, and again. Here stands the faith of Christianity ... you can't do it on your own.
For all the bloggers / commentators / browsers out there. Political cartoonist Tim Kreider put his finger on our problem in a recent essay: "So many letters to the editor and comments on the Internet [come from] people who have been vigilantly on the lookout for something to be offended by, and found it." Kreider admits that his job requires him to be "professionally furious." Yet he has come to lament the rise of "outrage porn." "Some part of us loves feeling (1) right and (2) wronged. But outrage is like a lot of other things that feel good but, over time, devour us from the inside out." [Editorial] The balanced blogger is lost in the noise of outrage. Indignation is fine, but it needs to be followed by substance else we end up with indigestion and a stomach full of acid. But how do we have a balanced discourse in the middle of a war of words? Really ... HOW? A forgettable mid-week muse. I'm tired of arguments for and against God, because all they do is create more argument. Now, as for reasoning about God? That's a different kettle of fish. You and I can prove nothing. NOTHING. There will always be an alternative interpretation, and however improbable it may be, it is still a finite possibility. All we can do is look at the evidence for ourselves (that's the important bit) and come to a conclusion. And if we're honest enough, and courageous enough, we'll live by that conclusion. If we're honest enough and courageous enough, we'll ask ourselves "could I be wrong?" That's very scary. That's not nice. That's something I'd rather not do. Because maybe I'll have to admit I'm wrong. We re-evaluate other things all the time ... jobs, love, and our dislike for broccoli. So why not re-evaluate our understanding of Life? Re-evaluate all the time. Examine our reasoning. Because if we're wrong that could be of eternal consequence (or not, as your view determines). At the very least it would change how we relate with each other. (This is another of those Christian distinctives that set it apart, Christianity encourages you to question the reasonableness of your faith.) The Dawkins culture of "new atheism" with the unthinking aggressive Christians of this generation have fostered a battle to overcome an opposing position - a haughty arrogance that polarizes. New Atheism says religion should be countered ... which is taking a position on what's right and wrong! Yet "new atheism" not only says there is no God, but in doing so paradoxically claims that there is no absolute right and wrong. At the opposite end we have the religious "dogma Christian" who says "I have exclusive knowledge of truth" and ignores that truth is in relationship, not imposition. Talk about shooting yourself in the foot -- both feet actually! (We're "Hungry for outrage") What most of this generation is lacking is an honest discussion of the evidence - a brain engagement with apologetics (which is not about giving an apology!) A willingness to change position based on evidence. Of course, I obviously think that you're wrong and I am right (how could I not, without lying to myself). But that should not break our relationship if we both honestly desire to find Truth (or truth if you think the T is not warranted). I know that some ideas I hold to are certain to be erroneous - I just haven't realized what they are yet. Likewise you too definitely have some wrong beliefs that you've yet to recognize. If it were not so we'd be claiming perfection. G.B. Shaw and G.K. Chesterton thought each other to be completely wrong, even wrote books about how each other were wrong, but stayed the best of friends. So where, oh where, do we find today's place for such discussion? Life IS relationship ... this concept threads through all I write. So here is someone else's thoughts on this, for all the lonely people: A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated, Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself, Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them. And you O my soul where you stand, Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them, Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold, Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul. Walt Whitman |
Why?
Probably the best therapy is to express yourself. Why do you think psychiatrists make you lie on the couch and talk, while all they do is murmur "hmmm", "uhuh", or "go on"? Archives
May 2017
|