NERD POST ALERT!

I might have mentioned in the last post that I'm a nerd. I'm going to prove it again. My pastor just started a new series-and I'm totally excited about it. I mean, last week, the message felt like it was only 10 minutes long. I asked him why it was so short, and he said he thought he'd gone long. Maybe I was just so enthralled that time just FLEW by. Like I said: NERD.

What kind of sermon could capture an imagination like mine? What sort of drama was unfolding which so drew me in that time as an ontological reality ceased to exist?


Heaven.

Ok. So why is that so interesting? Harps and clouds, and singing and seeing family. Sort of like a picnic, only forever, no beer and no shouting. Right? Dude. NO. That totally doesn't sound right to me. Nor does it sound like any fun. And that's what God totally wants for me, right? Fun?

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So I've been thinking a lot about what Jesus talked about when he was rollin' country-side that got him in so much trouble that they essentially skinned him like a moose, dragged him, half-dead (which is different than all-the-way dead), through the streets of Jerusalem, and then left him nailed to a tree to die (that would be all-the-way-dead). Frequently the gospel writers say he went out "preaching the good news" or saying that "the kingdom of God is near." Ooooookay. What in the world does that mean?

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I think a lot of Christians (and probably as a consequence, a lot of non-Christians) believe that Jesus was a teacher of morality. That he taught a life-code that if sought after diligently, would lead to happiness. or peace with fellow-man. or would entitle you to enter Heaven. They often look to the sermon on the Mount, otherwise known as the Beatitudes. If I have to do all that to get into heaven, I'm so screwed. And I know it. That's going to make me happy? Yeah, no.

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What if Heaven doesn't have anything to do with morality. I mean, let's face it, you and me both know people who's moral code appears to be whiter than the driven snow. They don't have anything to do with Jesus, or maybe they have everything to do with Jesus, or Mohommed or Buddha, or whatever.

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How do you think of heaven? Do you think of heaven? Does what you think of heaven, or the after-life affect your day to day? I think that's why I'm so excited, and in such rapturous condition over this series. I don't think Jesus preached forgiveness simply for the sake of getting to Heaven. I think he might have even scoffed at that just a bit. If that were all there was to it, why all the blood and gore?

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I'm excited because my back hurts. Sometimes my neck too. My knees used to hurt, but that was when I used them more.
I get excited because I love talking to people, but usually when I do, I offend them. I don't mean to. I mean, most of the time. I'm just stupid like that.
I am excited because my dad and me, I mean, we loved each other and all that, but I don't think we really lived together like we should have. And I definitely haven't been the brother that I should have been to my siblings.
I'm exhilarated because I used to love to smoke, but I knew it was terrible for me, so I hated myself for doing it. And I couldn't quit, so I felt like a total addict, and hated myself even more for that.

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That little list could go on, and on, and on. But I won't bother you with all that. Plus I gotta leave stuff for other entries, right? My point? My hope isn't that when I die I will go to heaven. I mean, really? If God thinks heaven is so great why did he plant a freakin' garden? Why didn't he just (poof!) make us all in heaven? right away? Because he intended life to be good, in a physical way. At least, I think so. I think that's why Jesus had to rise from his own death. I think that's why instead of mass-groups of Christian suicides, you have groups like the Salvation Army. And Christian food pantries, and free medical clinics, and safe havens. Because life, now, matters. And it always will. And someday, the world could actually be a safe place. A pleasant place. I think that's what God intended all along. A world like that, well, it wouldn't really need morals.

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I don't think Jesus was necessarily preaching morals. I think he was preaching to tell people what life would be like someday, when God fulfilled his mission to repair a broken world. I think that's why I get so wrapped up in this stuff. Because I look ahead to a time when my back doesn't hurt, my neck isn't stiff, I can talk and be understood, I can listen and understand, and just live-with everybody, the way God built us to live. And that's what the resurrection is all about. Forget Heaven. I'm lookin past that.

Iran (2)

Ok, I'll admit it: I'm a nerd. This video I saw the other night piqued my interest in several ways. One thing that always gets me is old stuff. Now, Iran, historically, is also known as Persia. Going further back it's also known as part of Mesopotamia. Also known as the Cradle of Civilization. AKA, the beginning of human civilization. Which I happen to think is pretty damn cool.

So, Rick Steves is touring 5 or 6 cities in Iran and filming his encounters with the inhabitants in each place. Two of the towns are built around magnificent palaces and/or mosques with are part of the empire's long history. Those are fascinating. But the coolest place he went to was completely uninhabited. It was a town called Persepolis. Actually, it wasn't so much a town, as it was the Palace of the King of Persia.



You can see that it covered quite a bit of ground. Those columns are wood. And their over 40 feet tall. And those don't appear to do something, they used to support giant spanning cedar beams which then in turn held up the roof. And those beams would have been carried there from someplace else, Lebanon perhaps? Carried. Not driven on a semi-truck. Dude.

Anyways, Steves was talking about the history of this palace. Darius, King of Persia ruled from here about 500BC. That's 2,500 years ago. For you bible historians, that's also the time that the Hebrew nation of Israel was conquered and carried off into a period of exile by (see above).

So, I guess what I was marveling at as Rick Steves wandered around the floor plan of Persepolis, was that we have no problem accepting that Darius, King of Persia existed, and presided over one of the greatest cultures in the history of human civilization. But if Darius, or his son Xerxes, or his grandson, Artaxerxes, walked among these collonades, history tells us that Daniel, Ezra, Nehemiah very well may also have walked these stones. That gives me a little bit of perspective.

I suppose it's no different than going to Jerusalem, and walking the streets that Jesus, Peter, and Paul would have walked. Except that it's another 5 or 6 hundred years earlier in history. Except that people contest the life and records of Jesus constantly. Steves didn't even mention the prophets. Didn't even come up. I don't fault him for it. I only mention it because I personally find it to be such an incredibly mind-boggling piece of trivia, and it affirms in my mind what I have already taken to be true: that the God of the Bible has been working through a long history, delicately putting each piece in place to bring about a specific goal. A goal to save not to destroy. A goal to repair and not to destroy. A plan to prosper...and not to harm.

How do I fit into that plan? If the plan is so delicately made that it requires pieces to be moved on a daily basis for such a long, long time (as I understand long)? I mean Daniel was my age, or younger. And he probably didn't see himself as an icon of Jewish history. And yet history has borne him out as unforgettable to the ages. How amazing...does anyone understand that life is so far from futile?

Iran

I was with friends last night, and one of them brought a video for us to watch and talk about. It was a travelogue on Iran. There was a wonderful glut of information for an information glutton so I thoroughly enjoyed the video. There were three big things that I was struck by during the course of the show.

1) Iranians, in general, are extremely friendly and very hospitable/welcoming.
2) Iranians, in general, appear to respect and value community
3) Iranians, in general, appear to regard much of the religious code with exasperation, but live by them inspite of it.

Ok. So, then I started asking myself why. I noticed many significant differences. The first and most obvious was the form of government. Iran is organized as a theocracy. The next thing follows from the second, but also stands on it's own merit: Iran is a highly gender-segregated society, particularly relative to the western standards that I am accustomed to.

You know, and the interesting thing about it? I never got the sense that it was a matter of equality or validity. Women had the freedoms to walk about and do, and shop, and say, and whatever, just as the men did. They were admitted to university at a higher rate then men were. But in classrooms and quads, they were separated, much as the southrons of the 19th century worshipped in their sanctuaries, women on this side, men on the other. On subways, women are entitled to their own car. It's not that they have this car, and they can't go on the other cars. It's that if a woman is on this car, no men may be.

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I am reading Dante's Inferno again. Dante lived in the 13th century in Italy. His poem about his travels through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven reflect a stunning grasp of the power of imagery. His guide through the nine circles of Hell is Virgil, the ancient poet. Virgil's place in Hell is Limbo. This is where those born before the light of Christ spend eternity. It is a pleasant meadow just outside the gates of Hell, proper. It is also the residence for eternity of the Jewish Patriarchs, that is until "harrowing of Hell" by Christ on Holy Saturday. It's sort of a pass for those honorable people who didn't have the opportunity to acknowledge Jesus, but almost certainly would have if given the opportunity. Their "hell" is knowing that they will never see the glory of Heaven.

Anyways at one point, Virgil is confronted by the rebellious angels who stand just outside the city gates of Dis, which is the midpoint of Hell. There are 4 circles outside, and 5 more inside. Well, Virgil has been accosted by other monsters of Hell, and has been able to rebuke these monsters unassisted, but at this point he balks. Faced with these demon-angels he knows fear for the first time. Here, at this dark gate, Virgil, the embodiment of "Human Reason" (the Greeks, and their philosophers) is not able to overpower the command of the gate regiment. He begins to fear that he will be stuck here, unable to return to the pleasant limbo. It is given that the only force able to override these rebellious angels is a direct messenger from Heaven's court.

The point Dante is attempting to make is that there is a limit to how far "human reason" can go without the light of faith. This is a standard of Roman Catholic orthodoxy. This standard was cast out by the protestant reformers, who declared that all things must be under the light of scripture, and mocked entirely by the Enlightenment who believed that science could answer every question, and that the light of faith was something that was entirely other, and should not be "mixed" with scientific thought.

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I wonder if we have erred. I wonder if the notion of the "secular" state is well founded. I wonder what our culture would look like if it wasn't trying to make everybody the same. I mean equal.

(blank)

I don't get it. What's the point of having kids? They're just going to break my heart. Staying married? She's just going to get old, get mad, and take me with her. Why bother with telling the truth? Frankly, what reason do I have to get out of bed in the morning? I'd be better off dead. It's all just work anyway.

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I walked that dog about 4 years ago. It wasn't long but it was a bitch. All teeth--didn't even bother with barking. It just started in with maul. A friend managed to reach in and pull me out. I pray that I never face that cur again. Fortunately for me, my wife seems to think the scars make me more attractive.

So what's the point? What's the point of going through all of that? Why "do" life? Answer: resurrection. I don't think it's heaven or even forgiveness. Those are just the appetizers. Don't get me wrong. They're rich, and you could make a meal out of it. But I wouldn't. Leave room for the main course. The "why?" is answered in resurrection. And I constantly forget it. But this Easter I was reminded again about life--not living as we do it now, but as Jesus promises us it will be lived, and can be begun now.

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On Thursday, Jesus gave us some clues. He showed us how to make sense of the days that would follow. On Friday, he unlocked the door, letting out the tax man. He let out the executioner, and after the tax man was paid, and the executioner was satisfied, the dark came down. Whether he was doing the work, or resting, or what-it's a mystery what happened on Saturday. Maybe Saturday wasn't about what Jesus was doing, but rather what I was doing. Was I hiding? (shrug). I don't know. But on Sunday he rose up, alive, and hailed as King and Victor. Forgiveness was firmly established as His to offer and to supply. It was now his right and prerogative to remove sin from the record. And having paid the full wholesale price, he sets the retail price at: just ask. Just care.

And he promised something. He promised that we could all taste the same victory. Did I earn that? Did I? Hell says no. Hell, no. And you know something? It's right--about that. I didn't earn it, but Jesus says I can have it anyway. So screw hell. And all that goes with it. The threat still looms but not for me it doesn't. Not only that, but I will taste victory. All I have to do is admit and proclaim that Jesus is the Son of God, and that he lives. And then, when I die, somehow I live. Or at least I fail to lose my life. And I can wait, somehow, for a new life. Ok? I know this isn't news to some of you, maybe it's a message you've had pounded into your head every night by your parents, or every week by the same old people, or maybe just every day when you pass the guy with the sandwich board and picket sign screaming at a traffic signal. But it isn't simply forgiveness that Jesus delivers. Or a get-out-of-hell card. It's life the way it's supposed to be. Not the way it is now.

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A more real life. A real life. Where work rewards, community with other people is joy-filled, and not sorrow-filled. Communicating with our families, neighbours, friends--no missed connections, no misunderstandings-no hurt feelings. oh GOD, I can't wait for that. How many times have I said something, trying to be cute, trying to be profound-even trying to be sincere, only to be misunderstood.

We will live to bless and be blessed. And THAT was the point. That was the line that my friend through into me. He reminded me that everything I loved about Jesus when I first saw him up close---all of that was the same. And that I couldn't explain it then, I can't explain it now, but somehow I was convinced of it then, as I am convinced of it now. And THAT---that unexplainable thing is true, and real, and worth every bit the wait.