Sunday, March 8, 2015

Lenten Reflection: What Good Is a Golden Apple?

The following is the seventh in a series of reflections on The Great Divorce.
For more reflections on this work, check out the hub page for the series.

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.
Comments are always welcomed.
If you find this post helpful, please consider sharing.


What Good Is a Golden Apple?
A reflection on chapters 2 and 6 of C.S. Lewis's The Great Divorce

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on Earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in Heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Matthew 6:19-21 (NRSV)


You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You get what you need

From "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by The Rolling Stones


I have heard it said that, when humans make plans, God laughs.  Is God laughing because we have the audacity to make plans when there are so many forces, visible and invisible, that are totally outside of our control?  Or is God, perhaps, laughing at the shortsightedness of our plans?  Sometimes we forget that, as finite human beings, we do not have the capacity to fathom the grand scheme of things, and so often we can see no further than our own small pieces of the puzzle.



While riding on the bus, the protagonist struck up a conversation with another passenger who was identified by the "big man" as Ikey.  Ikey was taking the trip not with the hopes of possibly relocating, but rather to find some "real commodities" to bring back to the town.  Somewhere he has heard that objects at the bus's destination are somehow more real than the town's objects that can simply be imagined into existence.  By bringing some real items back to the town, he is hoping to make a name for himself by generating an economy, around which a society will hopefully follow.

In Heaven, near a massive waterfall, Ikey spots a tree on which golden apples are growing.  He slowly makes his way to the tree, over the sharp blades of grass, until he is blocked by a barricade of lilies.  A gust of wind blows several apples to the ground, and one falls on Ikey, knocking him down.  A few painful minutes later, he gets up and tries to gather the apples to take home with him, but, since they are all too heavy for a ghost like him to carry, he settles for the smallest which he has to drag as if moving a boulder.

Suddenly, the waterfall itself calls out to Ikey and says,
Fool, put it down.  You cannot take it back.  There is not room for it in Hell.  Stay here and learn to eat such apples.  The very leaves and the blades of grass in the wood will delight to teach you.



One day, a wealthy and pious man approaches Jesus and asks, "Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?"1  N.T. Wright points out that the Greek phrase translated into English as "eternal life" is zoe aionios, which literally means "life of the age."  In Jesus' day, the Jewish people believed that the Messiah would usher in an age of peace.  The rich man believes that Jesus is this long-awaited Messiah, and he wants to know what he must do to secure a place in the kingdom Jesus will establish so that he can enjoy the "life of the age to come."2

Jesus replies, "Go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in Heaven; then come, follow Me."3  The rich man, who has already gained a lot in his life, has come to Jesus with the hopes of gaining something more, but Jesus pulls the proverbial rug out from beneath him with His answer.  Jesus tells him that, to get what he wants, he must first let go of something.

Jesus says that the rich man, by selling his possessions and giving the proceeds to the poor, will gain "treasure in Heaven."  Earlier, Jesus told his audience to seek "treasures in Heaven" which are eternal, as opposed to "treasures on Earth" which rust, fall apart, and get stolen.  In the Kingdom that Jesus has come to establish, generosity is treasured infinitely more than objects with a high price tag.  In this Kingdom, the wealth the rich man has accumulated is only worth as much as its potential to feed the hungry.

Basically, the rich man can have a place in the in the Kingdom of God right now if he wants it, but he has to give up the notion that a place in the Kingdom is some position of power or some privileged status and not a responsibility to serve others.

Not unlike the rich man who approached Jesus, Ikey has come to Heaven with a plan, and he sees the golden apples as a means to accomplish his plan.  The angelic waterfall basically tells him that he can enjoy all the golden apples he wants, but he has to abandon all hope of ever taking them back to Hell with him.  In Heaven, a golden apple is not some shiny object to buy and sell but rather a source of nourishment.

It is unclear whether or not Ikey actually hears what the waterfall says, as he keeps on struggling to take the apple back to the bus with him.  Perhaps it could be said that Ikey has tunnel vision, the ability to focus one's attention on a singular goal.4  Tunnel vision can help us to achieve our goals, as it helps us to block out all distractions, but it can also blind us to the bigger picture.  In a previous blog post, I mentioned that, in college, I joined a religious organization in the hopes of finding a girlfriend but never found one.  If I had been utterly consumed with that one goal, I would never have enjoyed the blessings God gave me through that group.

In the words of the great philosopher Mick Jagger, "You can't always get what you want."  Sometimes we can get exactly what we want, but we will first have to let go of something else in order to get it.  Perhaps we might even have to give up the reason we wanted it in the first place.  It's alright for us to make plans, but we must learn to hold them loosely, realizing that God might want something even better for us.


Notes:
  1. Matthew 19:16 (NRSV)
  2. N.T. Wright.  "Going to Heaven?"  Published in The Love Wins Companion.  2011, HarperOne.  pp. 33-35
  3. Matthew 19:21 (NRSV)
  4. Wiktionary: Tunnel Vision
The photograph of the apple was taken by Paolo Neo and is public domain.  The photographer is in no way affiliated with this blog.  The photograph was modified by Tony Snyder.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Lenten Reflection: From the Head to the Heart

The following is the sixth in a series of reflections on The Great Divorce.
For more reflections on this work, check out the hub page for the series.

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.
Comments are always welcomed.
If you find this post helpful, please consider sharing.


From the Head to the Heart
A reflection on chapter 5 of C.S. Lewis's The Great Divorce

When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom.  For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.

1 Corinthians 2:1-2 (NRSV)


Questions fade when You invade
You chase all my fears away
With Your love in my atmosphere
All confusion disappears

From "Everything About You" by Sanctus Real


A few years ago, on a Sunday afternoon, I went to a coffee shop... as I often do on Sunday afternoons.  I sat across from a woman reading a book titled Why People Believe Weird Things.  Curious - and having spotted an opportunity to strike up a conversation with her - I asked, "So, why do people believe weird things?"  She offered me a number of answers, but the one that stood out to me was a lack of critical thinking.

I think that a lack of critical thinking is a problem in many churches.  One thing I love about my own tradition, the United Methodist Church, is the fact that critical thinking is affirmed, even in matters of faith.  Methodists are a people of The Book, but we read The Book with the help of Church tradition, our experience, and our reason.  This four-sided approach is sometimes called the Wesleyan Quadrilateral, as it is believed that John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movement, approached matters of faith in this way.1

If a lack of critical thinking is a gutter on one side of the lane - to use a bowling analogy - is it possible to roll the ball into the gutter on the other side of the lane by overthinking things?



One ghost, who had been a bishop in his earthly life, is met in Heaven by a spirit named Dick, who was - I'm guessing - a friend from seminary.  In their earthly existences they had both abandoned their faith and had adopted a religion of questioning.  Dick eventually found his way back to his faith, but the bishop thought that he was merely becoming closed-minded.  Dick pleads with the bishop to reclaim the childlike faith he had given up and informs him that they are now in the land where all one's questions about the Eternal can finally be satisfied.  Unfortunately the bishop has become interested solely in the mental exercise of inquiry and is not at all interested in discovering actual answers to his questions.


Interestingly, the bishop still does not believe in a literal Heaven or Hell, even though he has now been to both places.  He is very optimistic about the town he just left, not realizing it is actually Hell, and he ultimately decides that his talents and his interests will be more useful there.  He heads back to the bus because he is scheduled to deliver a paper at the theological society he started.  In his paper, he explores how Jesus' teachings might have evolved if Jesus' life hadn't been tragically cut short.

The bishop walks away, humming a hymn, and Dick slaps himself in the face, frustrated.2



Repeatedly, the bishop insists that he and Dick, in their earthly lives, were courageously following their own honest opinions.  Dick argues that they weren't really following their honest opinions but rather following the trends of the time, and he argues that they weren't really courageous about it because they had set themselves up to gain more than they ever stood to lose.  The bishop actually became a bishop because of the work he was doing.

I would never advise a person to suppress his or her honest questions or doubts, for I believe that honest questions must be raised and that honest doubts must be confronted.  By doubting, we question; by questioning, we learn; and, by learning, we grow.  I would suggest that suppressing questions and doubts might actually be more of a hazard to one's faith than actually exploring them, because whatever we suppress will somehow find away to manifest itself.  On the other hand, I would not advise a person to question or to doubt simply because it happens to be en vogue.  Questioning, Lewis argues, is a thirst that was made to be satisfied by the Truth.

Peter Rollins once said, "If you want to know what you really believe, don't listen to what you say; look at what you do."3  I think that sometimes we use layers of questioning and intellectualism as a defense mechanism to shield ourselves from the responsibility of believing, specifically the responsibility to live according to one's convictions.  Thinking and speaking are cheap, but believing can be costly.

I am not accusing the bishop of using intellectualism to protect himself from the truth: I am actually drawing from my own experiences.  For example, I might come across a Bible passage that makes me feel somewhat convicted and begin to ask myself questions: "But what is the writer really saying in this passage?  What was the cultural context?  What does the original Greek text literally mean?  I should really do a word study someday."  These are important questions to ask, but I think I sometimes use such questions to keep what I just read confined to my head.  Otherwise, it might find its way to my heart, and then I might actually have to act upon it.

It is important to ask questions, for questioning is a means to gaining knowledge.  Still, we would do well to remember that questioning is merely a means to an end and not an end in itself.  May we not be afraid to honestly ask questions, and may we not be afraid to honestly and humbly receive any answers God might offer us.


Notes:
  1. Wikipedia: Wesleyan Quadrilateral
  2. Okay, the part about the facepalm wasn't actually in the book, but one could easily read it into the story.
  3. Peter Rollins.  "Confronting Our Beliefs."
The photograph of the forest is believed to be public domain.

Monday, March 2, 2015

Lenten Reflection: The Danger of Entitlement

The following is the fifth in a series of reflections on The Great Divorce.
For more reflections on this work, check out the hub page for the series.

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.
Comments are always welcomed.
If you find this post helpful, please consider sharing.


The Danger of Entitlement
A reflection on chapter 4 of C.S. Lewis's The Great Divorce

But he answered his father, "Listen!  For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends.  But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!"  Then the father said to him, "Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.  But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found."

Luke 15:29-32 (NRSV)


The world is heading for mutiny
When all we want is unity
We may rise and fall, but in the end
We'll meet our fate together

From "One" by Creed


I have a theory that many people try to cope with their insecurities with the help of what I call an "at-least" person.  An "at-least" person is somebody that one can picture in one's darker moments and say, "Well, at least I'm not that person."  If you don't already have an "at-least" person, you can easily find one by simply watching a seedy daytime tabloid talk show like The Jerry Springer Show or Maury.

I have a confession to make: I may or may not have had an "at-least" person or two.

I have another confession to make: I may or may not be afraid that I'm somebody else's "at-least" person.



The bright, solid people from Heaven head with determination toward the group of ghosts as if each has zeroed-in on his or her own target, like a basketball team executing a man-to-man defense.  The spirits have come to meet the ghosts that have just disembarked the bus to plead with them to stay in Heaven.  Frightened, the ghosts scatter, doing their best to walk on the sharp grass.

One ghost, described by the protagonist as a large, intimidating person, is met by a spirit named Len.  In their earthly lives, Len had been an employee of the big man, and, in a moment of rage, Len had murdered a coworker named Jack.  Len tells his former boss that he has come to apologize for all the hatred he once harbored toward him and offers to help him out in any way possible as he gets adjusted to this place.  The big man is shocked and appalled that Len, a murderer, was allowed into Heaven while he, a reasonably decent, hard-working man, has been living for so long in the "pigsty" of a town below.  The last thing he wants is charity, especially not from a "bloody murderer."

The big man feels as though a cruel joke has been played on him, for he believes that he deserves a much better existence than some murderer.  He curses out his former employee and angrily makes his way back to the bus.  At least he still has his dignity.



Put yourself in the big man's shoes for a moment.  Imagine that you have gone to Heaven only to meet the person you hated the most in your earthly existence.  Worse yet, imagine that your "at-least" person has somehow gotten into Heaven ahead of you.  What would you do?  Would you leave angrily?  Or would you stay and learn to love that person?  This is a very important question we all need to seriously ask ourselves.

St. Paul writes that, in Jesus Christ, God is working to reconcile all things to God's self.1  If we are indeed in the process of being reconciled to God, then it could be said that we are, in some way, being brought closer and closer to God.  If we are all moving toward a single point, namely God, then we are, by necessity, moving closer and closer to each other.  In this way, one's relationship with God cannot be separated from one's relationships with other people.  If we intentionally drive wedges between ourselves and other people, then we are, by extension, driving wedges between ourselves and God.

The two men in this encounter are like the two sons in Jesus' famous Parable of the Prodigal Son.2  Len is like the younger son in the parable: he screwed up his life beyond repair and had no choice but to turn everything over to God.  The big man, on the other hand, is like the older son: he always did what he was supposed to do.  Like the older brother, he feels as though he hasn't gotten what he deserves, and he's totally hacked off that Len went home to a party.  Maybe the big man hadn't screwed up his life to the extent that Len had, but Len had better understanding of God's grace because of his experiences.  Len understands that ultimately everything we receive from God is a gift and that a gift, by nature, cannot be earned or deserved.

The big man believes that he is a better person than Len and thus deserves more than Len, and the last thing he wants is Len's help.  He goes on and on about getting what is rightfully his: "I got to have my rights," he says.  He claims that he always worked hard for a living, always paid his own way, always kept his nose clean, and never took any charity from anybody.  Len tells him that he would be better off not to dwell on such things.  Regarding the big man's entitled, self-sufficient attitude, Len says, "Your feet will never grow hard enough to walk on our grass that way."


As humans, we have built economic systems and even entire societies on entitlement, the concept that one has a right to what one has earned.  What if entitlement is ultimately an illusion?  What if, in the grand scheme of things, we are all on equal footing, regardless of what we have done and regardless of what we think we deserve?

Jesus once said that God "makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous."3  Nowadays, sunshine represents happiness while rain represents sadness.  In an agrarian society, both sunshine and rain are considered blessings.  To some extent, Jesus' words can be understood in both ways.  We are all invited to enjoy the blessings of God, and none of us are exempt from times of difficulty.  We would do well to remember that, in the words of St. James, "Every good gift, every perfect gift, comes from above."4  When we get wrapped up in thinking about who deserves what, we forget that all good things are gifts from God.  Even the hard work that supposedly entitles us to something is, in itself, a gift from God.

We live in a broken world, and the Bible teaches us that, from the dawn of human history, God has been hard at work putting it back together, reconciling all things.  If we want to be reconciled to God, we must be willing to be reconciled to each other.  Superiority and entitlement are things that separate ourselves from others and ultimately separate ourselves from God.  If we want to be a part of what God is doing in the world, then we must put to death such things within us and learn to live in the reality of God's grace.


Notes:
  1. Colossians 1:20
  2. Luke 15:11-32
  3. Matthew 5:45 (NRSV)
  4. James 1:17 (CEB)
The photograph featured in this post is public domain.