Tag Archives: hope

I Can Only Imagine

27 Tuesday Dec 2022

Posted by in All, Journey, Self, Trust, Uncategorized

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I can only imagine
What it will be like
When I walk by Your side
I can only imagine
What my eyes would see
When Your face is before me
I can only imagine

Surrounded  by Your glory
What will my heart feel?
Will I dance for You Jesus
Or in awe of You be still?
Will I stand in Your presence
Or to my knees, will I fall?
Will I sing hallelujah?
Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine
I can only imagine
“I Can Only Imagine,” Mercy Me

If you’ve listened to Christian radio since 2002 you have undoubtably heard this song, “I Can Only Imagine,” by Mercy Me. It was the most popular Christian song played in 2002 and even cracked the mainstream chart Top 100 in 2003. As a matter is full disclosure, I have seen the band twice, and each time they have performed this song. It is a great song.

For all humans, it captures our deepest longing, as Augustine famously said, “Our hearts are restless until it rests with [God].” For the Christian, the lyric is particularly powerful. It provides a magnificent vision of what it will be like when we are finally face-to-face with our greatest love…Jesus. The song’s words express our deepest emotions and longing in a way that most of us cannot formulate.

I’d like to be able to tell you that the imagery certainly captures what I hope to experience: the overwhelming relief of a good finish to my life, a race well run, a battle well fought, along with the overwhelming sense of wonder and worship at finally being in the presence of ineffable glory of Jesus Himself. To finally find true rest in God free from the weariness of this world.

I’d like to be able to tell you that…but I can’t.

The Divine Liturgy celebrated in the Orthodox church (“Eastern Orthodox”) has been an enigma to my western, enlightened mind. A mystery would be a better description…and a “mystery” in the truest sense. From the opening words of the Liturgy, “Blessed is the Kingdom of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit now and forever unto ages of ages” to the final “Amen,” the Church has always assumed that during the Divine Liturgy the worshippers are actually(!) in the Kingdom that is both at hand and is to come, the place where all time exists in the present moment: Christ, the lamb slain before creation; the promise to Abraham; the Passover meal, the Last Supper, and the final Wedding Banquet; the giving of the Law to Moses; the birth, death, resurrection, and second coming of Jesus…all moments present in the moment. Further, in the Kingdom, where every knee now bows, we are worshipping God with all those who were, are, and will yet be, and with the tens of thousands of angelic beings. During the Liturgy we are in the very presence of the Most Holy Trinity, which means Jesus is also there, and Jesus is most literally fully present in bodily form in the transfigured bread and wine.

Honestly, though, during the Liturgy it is usually hard for me to feel like I am actually in the Kingdom and in the presence God, but it is not about “feeling” a particular way; rather it is about my faith, believing it to be true.

I can only image…Given this mystery of the Divine Liturgy, I don’t have to image what it will be like in God’s presence as though it is some future event. I can dare say I am in His presence during every Liturgy. And the body and blood of Jesus literally become part of me as I ingest Him from the Eucharist chalice. However, for me, being in Jesus’ presence it bears no resemblance to the song, above. Often, my feet and back ache from standing and I’m quite distracted by kids or others moving about or by my own mind wandering to the events of yesterday and tomorrow.

In those moments when I am able to tame the distractions, I do become aware of the Kingdom and I am overcome by the words of the Liturgy: “It is meet and right to hymn Thee, to bless Thee, to praise Thee, to give thanks unto Thee, and to worship Thee in every place of Thy dominion; for Thou art God ineffable, inconceivable, invisible, incomprehensible, ever-existing, and eternally the same…”

And then I am immediately aware how far I am from God in my expression of love for Him and my neighbor. Sometimes I do have the urge to fall to my knees, as the song imagines, but it is in repentance for my failure to be able to love Him and you, dear reader, as He loves both of us.

Such is being in the actual presence of the consuming fire that is God.

Being in the presence of God brings me pain and shame from my Pride, Anger, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Avarice, Slothfulness…each of these is at work within me to lead me away from Life Himself. I feel the shame. And, I experience the pain of His all-consuming fire that is His love for me as the Spirit slowly, so slowly, works in me to burn away the goat in my heart. I pray there will be found some sheep in me and that I will be saved through the His loving fire.

Being in the presence of God brings me fear. I too often believe the words of the serpent telling me that I can’t trust God. I want retain control of just enough of my own life so I can salvage it in the event I find I can’t really trust God. I’m like the character in the C.S. Lewis novel, The Great Divorce, who has a lizard-parasite on his shoulder. He is afraid for it to be removed; he doesn’t believe he will become truly himself without it. Like him, I’m comfortable with my demons; removing them is to give up control, to move toward the unknown—in trusting faith. I pray I would have the faith of Christ and come to fully trust God.

Despite the pain, shame, and fear I experience in His presence, I can’t seem to stop walking deeper into His fire. Where else would I go? Jesus has the words of eternal life. His refining fire draws me like a moth. What God most wants from me is no more than He has already offered to me: Himself. He has first offered me a gift that cost Him the death of His Son; it is His gift to me of immeasurable cost and value. What He wants from me is a gift of similar value: all of me. But God’s refining fire still burns me—this is the suffering of becoming one with God. Yet God doesn’t want my fear and pain and shame; He is not a wrathful God. Rather, me bearing my fear, shame, and pain is the cost I to me to give the gift of myself to Him. And when I can no longer bear it, God offers me rest along the way.

While there have been many article written and movies made that focus on Jesus’ agony of His scourging and subsequent death on the cross, the biblical writers actually have little to say about it. Rather, they focus on God’s gift to us in the person of Jesus and the joy of Christ as He faced the cross…His gift to us. This should inform how we think of sacrificial gift-giving.

Rather than me focusing on my suffering, my pain, my shame, and my fear, I should focus on the gift I want to give God—the all-of-me-I-am-able-to-give gift. It is by focusing on the gift and not the cost where we find the peace and joy of Christ. This, after all, is His promise: “Come to Me and I will give you rest.” There is no need to imagine. We can experience it now.

A Larger Hope

05 Tuesday Jul 2022

Posted by in All, Church, Heaven and Hell, Journey, Love

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You have heard, perhaps, a horrible scream in the dead of night. You may have heard the last shriek of a drowning man before he went down into his watery grave. You may have been shocked in passing a madhouse, to hear the wild shout of a madman…But listen now—listen to the tremendous, the horrible uproar of millions and millions and millions of tormented creatures mad with the fury of hell. Oh, the screams of fear, the groanings of horror, the yells of rage, the cries of pain, the shouts of agony, the shrieks of despair of millions on millions…Little child, it is better to cry one tear of repentance now than to cry millions of tears in hell. But what is that dreadful sickening smell?
—Rev. John Furniss1

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about eternal damnation: the fires of Hell.  Why?  Two reasons, really.  First, for 2,000 years the Christian Orthodox Church (“Eastern Orthodoxy”) has not believed in “once saved always saved.”  While we believe in the grace and mercy of God, we do not presume to know our eternal destination or that of any other; rather, we are encouraged to focus on working out our own salvation with God’s help.  Second, and relatedly, we are encouraged to think of the “consequences” given in the Bible as only applying to ourselves…to me.  After all, I am the chief of sinners.  We witness to the world and pray for all; however, the eternal destiny of me and all others is ultimately up to God.

So, from that context, I’ve been thinking about the various images of Hell.  The one above is obviously terrifying.  Others express the terror in other ways, such as “people will be tied back-to-back, never seeing the face of another.”  But that, it seems to me, is just a slow descent into eternal madness.

Here is a thought I recently had: Certainly anyone who actually believes in eternal torment—eon upon eon of unending agony and screaming that is beyond anything we can conceive—also doesn’t believe they might actually be there one day.  How could one live in such fear of what may come?

To manage my own fear, I have tried a couple of things that may sound familiar: I have assured myself that having said the “sinner’s prayer” I am no longer under threat of eternal agony; I have also worked to tip the moral scale in my favor just in case God judges like America’s Lady Justice; and, I have compared myself with that “other guy” to find assurance that I’m not so bad…a “nice” guy.  Still…

But, really, though, if I seriously believe that God may indeed pour out His eternal wrath on me, then I should be doing more, working frenetically(!), in fact, to ensure I don’t end up in screaming torment while the clock never moves.

And more, if I really love you, my neighbor, as Jesus says, then I should be willing to do anything for you…or to you…to ensure you don’t end up there.  In the name of my true love for you, then, I should be willing to do anything , including horribly torturing you now, if necessary, until you accept Jesus, rather than allow you to experience eternal torture.

Imagine with me that we have “made it” and are in Heaven.  What about those we love who didn’t make it?  Jesus knew His friends upon His resurrection.  Besides, it is the people we have known who make us who we are.  So, it seems unlikely that God will perform a “blessed lobotomy” on us so that we forget those we love.  Won’t that spoil our bliss?

Continuing, then, imagine we are in Heaven, and somehow looking over the railing at those suffering in Hell.  Perhaps we can satisfy ourselves that “they” had their chance and that “they” are getting what they deserve (I pray I don’t get what I so rightly deserve!).  One way that this has been defended over the centuries is exampled by this quote from Puritan preacher Johnathon Edwards:

The view of the misery of the damned will double the ardor of the love and gratitude in heaven.
—Jonathan Edwards2

Edwards, and others before and since, have believed that seeing the agony of those who “chose poorly” or were “predestined for God’s wrath” would actually increase the joy of those in Paradise with God.

Approaching it differently, however, George MacDonald wrote this:

Who, in the midst of the golden harps and the white wings, knowing that one of his kind, one miserable brother in the old-world-time when men were taught to love their neighbor as themselves , was howling unheeded far below in the vaults of creation, who, I say, would not feel the need that he must arise, that he had no choice, that, as awful as it was, he must gird his loins, and go down into the smoke and darkness and the fire, traveling the weary and fearful road into the far country to find his brother?—who, I mean, that had the mind of Christ, that had the love of the Father?3

Perhaps you can see why this has been on my mind.  In light of God Who “so loved the world” as to send His Son, Jesus, to be born, live, and die for the sake of the world so that death and sin might be defeated, it is hard for me to reconcile this with the belief that most of humanity (Matt 7:13-14) will spend eternity screaming in tortured agony.  MacDonald’s version, not Edwards’ seems Christ-like.

I am in no way suggesting that someone, say a Hitler, be given a “free pass to Paradise” after death.  Life comes with consequences.  However, to imagine that the consequence for turning from God in this “short” life is an eternal existence of agony seems counter to the love of God.  Perhaps there may well be some age of unknown length for the resurrected unrepentant to have a change of heart.  After all, God is infinite, not evil.  God, we read in the Scriptures, will destroy sin, not relegate it to a corner of creation.

Of course I can see from my own life and my life’s experience that the threat of “consequences” is necessary to correct me and restore me to the right path.  However, the threat of eternal punishment sounds like retributive punishment, since there is no possibility of restoration for the one punished.  In fact, the idea of eternal, retributive punishment may do more harm than good.  This, from a priest who has heard a lifetime of confessions:

The dogma of hell, except in the rarest of cases, did no moral good.  It never affected the right persons.  It tortured innocent young women and virtuous boys.  It appealed to the lowest motives and the lowest characters.  It never, except in the rarest instances, deterred from the commission of sin.  It caused unceasing mental and moral difficulties…It always influenced the wrong people, and in the wrong way.  It caused infidelity to some, temptation to others, and misery without virtue to most.
—Rev Rudolph Suffield (1873)4

I may well be wrong in my thinking.  One day I may find that God’s love for all mankind does include some kind of eternal existence in the darkness with teeth gnashing–Satan and the unrepentant continuing to exist in some corner of creation.  I pray not because I am the chief of all sinners and my repentance is so poor.  Please don’t wish eternal punishment on anyone, even your worst enemy.  Don’t say, “I hope there’s a special place in Hell for that person” as I once used to say. Rather, pray for everyone, forgive everyone for everything.  Repent for everything and everyone.  To hope another goes to “Hell” is to risk your own salvation; after all, we only love God as much as we love others. (1John 2:8-11)

The possibility of an alternate view of life after death–a larger hope–has been around a very, very long time.  Summarizing the Orthodox Church’s general doctrine, Archbishop Hilarion Alfeyev writes:

The [Orthodox Church’s] teaching on [Christ’s] descent into Hades, as set forth in 1 Peter 3:18-21, however, brings an entirely new perspective into our understanding of the mystery of salvation.  The death sentence passed by God does not mean that human beings are deprived of hopeful salvation because, failing to turn to God during their lifetimes, people could turn to Him in the afterlife, having heard Christ’s preaching in hell.5

Whether or not all followed Christ out of Hades is not held doctrinally by the Orthodox Church.6

If you are interested in reading more on a hopeful view of life after death, you can start with this list—click here.  In light of the fact that there is good reason—argued for by many saints and scholars over the centuries—to have hope for the eventual salvation of all after death, why would anybody fight for the view of eternal punishment even for a single human?

We should have but one thought: that all should be saved.
—St. Silouan the Athonite

I’ll close with this story I recently read (paraphrased, as I cannot remember the source):

Imagine all of the “saved”—either by God’s election or man’s freewill choice, whichever you prefer—gathered expectantly before the gates of Heaven, all eagerly awaiting admittance.  Amid the joy, the singing, the fist-bumping, the congratulations, and the tears, a rumor begins to spread, slowly at first, but quickly gathering speed.  “Hey, I just heard that everyone who ever lived will be admitted!”  Song turns to shouting: “No way would God allow that!”…“Not fair!”…”I worked hard for this!”…”Who do they think they are!”…”Where are their years of sacrifice like I had to endure!”…”Keep ‘em out, this is our place; we love God!”  The joyous gathering becomes an angry mob at the injustice of it.  And, in an instant, the mob finds itself in hellfire.  And that was the Last Judgment of God.

———————————————————————————————————————————

1  Furniss, John.  The Sight of Hell.  Ch XI-X.  A book written for young children.  Published 1874.

2 Quoted in Allin, Thomas.  Christ Triumphant.  45.  From Edwards’ 1739 sermon entitled, “The Eternity of Hell Torments.”

3 MacDonald, George.  Unspoken Sermons, Series I: “Love Thy Neighbor.”  Quoted in Hart, David Bentley, That All Shall Be Saved.  156.

4 Allin, Thomas.  Christ Triumphant.  7.

5 Alfeyev, Hilerion.  Christ the Conquerer of Hell.  212.

6 Christ the Conquerer of Hell. Epilogue.

Choose Life

13 Thursday Mar 2014

Posted by in All, Life

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I call heaven and earth as witnesses today against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both you and your descendants may live; that you may love the Lord your God, that you may obey His voice, and that you may cling to Him, for He is your life and the length of your days…

—Moses (Deuteronomy 30:19-20)

The debate over homosexuality is a hot-button issue about many things: moral right and wrong, human rights, love, happiness, natural law, the definition of marriage…

As important as these issues are, I don’t believe they should be the focus, at least not for Christians.  The debate over homosexuality should be a discussion about one thing and only one thing: what brings us life.

And this focus should apply not just to homosexuality but to all behavior, sexual and otherwise.

Here’s a question: Why did Jesus die for us?  If you have ever been to Sunday school or watched a sporting event you know about John 3:16—

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son [Jesus], that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.

Life.

Jesus said later in the same book of the Bible that He came so that we might “have life and life more abundantly.”  Sadly, that is not often the message of Christians.  Too often we reduce Christianity to a list of moral rights and wrongs rather than an invitation into abundant life with God.    We wag our fingers at Christians and non-Christians alike when we see what we believe is unbiblical behavior; we judge and scoff at and scold people for not being “good.”

When we reduce Christianity to a list of rights and wrongs we say that Jesus’ birth, life, death, and resurrection were God’s way of making bad people good.  Sadly, we turn God into some kind of supernatural Santa Clause who keeps a list of who has been naughty and nice and doles out eternal presents or lumps of coal.

Like many of you, I don’t want to worship that kind of god either.

But…what if Jesus’ death was not about making bad people good?  What if it was only about offering life to dead people?  If the latter is the case, then the Bible can be no longer viewed as Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth; rather, through its stories God tells us and shows us the way that people fully alive with Him normally live, and Jesus’ life is the exemplar.  Further, the Bible shows us of God’s eagerness to be with us and the lengths He will go to help us to participate in His life.

Jesus didn’t come to make bad people good, Jesus came to offer life to dead people.

I know a little something about living without God—living as a dead person with my dead-person behaviors.  I wanted to be the master of my own universe, to fulfill all of my own desires.

I know from my own experience that dead people act out because they don’t know any better, it is simply “natural” for them to act this way.  You Christians sometimes got mad at me, but I didn’t know any better.  Rarely was I invited into life; rather, it was pointed out to me that I was acting badly.

It doesn’t matter whether the dead-person behavior born out of greed, pride, gluttony, power-mongering, anger, or lust (homosexuality or premarital heterosexual sex)—and the list goes on and on—dead people will naturally do the things of dead people.  Sure, dead people can perform good and great acts, too, but even those acts come from the vestiges of God’s morality since we are all made in His image and will not in and of themselves bring life to the dead.

Sin is not the things we do that are wrong, where “wrong” is defined as acting against biblical rules.  No.  Sin is our state of being separated from God.  When God calls us to turn to Him and  then to obey Him, He does so only because wants to unite us to Himself, He wants to bring us into a relationship with Him where we will find the abundant life He has for us; therefore, following His way for us to live is simply the way people fully alive in relationship with Him try to live their lives.

God is inviting us into the fullness of abundant life; He is not an all-powerful Killjoy…

God is inviting us into the fullness of abundant life; He is not an all-powerful Killjoy trying to ruin our fun and quench our desires.  Obeying God does not prevent us from enjoying life.  Quite the contrary!  Obeying God frees us to live the abundant life He wants for us.  We are oppressed only when we allow ourselves to be held captive by our attempts to satiate our own unbridled passions and desires.

This is the heart of the Bible message: God only wants for us to be our best, to be fully alive, to become the person He created us to be, which only occurs when we are in relationship with Him.  This is real Love, His for us.

But, participating in God’s life takes effort, just like any relationship worth having.  I must put forth effort into changing my old, dead-person habits for the sake of our relationship, relying on the power of God’s Holy Spirit within me to increasingly transform me over my lifetime into a person fully and abundantly alive and participating in His life.

Yes, I still battle many of my old, dead-person habits.  And lately, it seems, God has been unfailing in pointing out to me just how much I still act like a dead person.  Curiously, His pointing this out gives me hope because it reminds me of His love for me and that I can only find abundant life with Him.  And it helps me to have compassion for the still dead people and for other dead-acting Christians and makes me want to offer them the same hope I am finding with Him.

God is calling each one of us out of dead-person life and into a life fully alive with Him.  God is love and can only act toward us out of love; however, His love for us precludes Him from accepting something less for us that He has intended.

So, the choices in our lives, Christian and non-Christian alike, are not about right and wrong and who has the moral high-ground.  All of our daily choices of behavior really boil down to a single choice that we repeat every moment of every day: it is the choice between behaving as a human being alive with God or behaving as one dead and apart from God.

Respond to God’s invitation.  Choose life.

I call heaven and earth as witnesses today against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both you and your descendants may live; that you may love the Lord your God, that you may obey His voice, and that you may cling to Him, for He is your life and the length of your days…

—Moses (Deuteronomy 30:19-20)

Abundant Life–Now?

01 Monday Oct 2012

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The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. John 10:10

Life and abundant life.  One commentator I read believed that this verse is the pivotal verse in the book of biblical gospel of John.  According to this commentator’s view, prior to this verse Jesus was telling us how to have life, by the necessity of following Him, becoming His disciple.  After this verse, according to this commentator’s view, Jesus begins to tell us about abundant life in Him as His disciple.

So, I’ve been thinking about abundant life.  Not long ago I was in a discussion with other Christians and the prevalent view of abundant life seemed to be that it was ahead of us.  Some believed it is the life we have when we are resurrected with Jesus in the new creation.  Some believed it was available in this life if only we could love God more, or pray better, or be healed of past hurts, etc.  Others felt that abundant life came eventually from a growing intimacy with Christ.  Most in the discussion felt as though they had not yet achieved this abundant life about which Jesus talked; their own lives seemed so hard.  Abundant life seemed like a goal always before us, just a little out of reach.

That conversation troubled me.

I was troubled mostly because I have been bouncing around holding all of those views, and my own life didn’t feel particularly abundant.  A single question kept haunting me: Are the promises of Jesus only for the future, or are they also for the here and now? I have to believe they are also for the present; if God in His fullness dwells in my now, then how can His promises only be for when I die or when I achieve some level of performance or status with God?  Then, if this is what I really believed, what did it say for my belief about abundant life?  Was it really an ever-distant goal?

A radical thought came to me: what if my life, as it is right now, is abundant.

That changes everything.

My life is typical of the American middle class.  It is reasonably comfortable.  I have a great wife, a nice house, two dogs (the good one and the bad one), hobbies, etc.  I have a good job and I’ve accomplished some pretty terrific things in life.  Then there are the “pesky” things: those things I say I wish I hadn’t, and those deeds I do I would really like to undo.  And the temptations that continually pull, though I have to admit not quite like before.  Can this be the abundant life of which Jesus talked?  Yes, and it has nothing to do with any of the things I just listed.

I now see my life as abundant because God is in it and because, as I’ve said elsewhere in this blog, that I believe through the power of the Holy Spirit I am becoming one with Jesus in love; Jesus draws me into relationship with our Father.  Said differently, the relationship that is available between God the Father and Jesus the Son is the same relationship God wants with me.  My life is abundant now and becoming abundant.

How can life be both abundant now and becoming abundant?  Back to the marriage metaphor used so often by God.  When I got married nearly 25 years ago I thought I understood love.  I was so in love with my wife-to-be, and indeed I was.  But, as with many things, I couldn’t know what I didn’t know.  I couldn’t know about love from the perspective of being in love together for 25 years.  Now, I look back and realize how little I knew about love when we were first married as compared to my much deeper understanding of it now, and how little I really loved my wife as compared to how much I love her now.  And, I expect in another 25 years my conception of love will be that much deeper and I’ll look back to this point in my life and realize how little I knew about it.  So, I can say that I am in love with my wife and becoming more in love.  Both are true.

I think the same can be said of abundant life.  My life right now is abundant.  As I look back on my life as a Christian I can see that I had little real understanding of this abundance, and I know I will look back in the future and see that even now I had a less well formed conception of it.  But, like love, I can only have the understanding of it that I have right now.  My life with God has been abundant, is abundant now, and is becoming more abundant.  Abundance in life is a journey not a goal.  And, given that growing in relationship with an infinite being–God–I believe the journey of abundant life will be an eternal journey.

So, what about all the stuff in my life that doesn’t feel so abundant?  Well, regarding the material stuff I hope I would be content with or without it, to still view my life as abundant.  And the stuff in me, the wrongdoing, the temptations, the…junk?  Perhaps it is like the material stuff, it is just there and God is at work freeing me from it.  However, God gives me abundance in all of it.  My “abundance” comes from relationship with Him, not my material, spiritual, emotional, psychological, or physical stuff.  The deeper my relationship, the more abundant my life

Author de Caussade, in his delightful little book, Abandonment to Divine Providence, says that to want anything in our lives other than what is happening and what we have in the present moment is to want something other than what God wants for us, it is to claim that we know what is better for ourselves than God knows.  I believe he is right.

To live in the moment with God, to be thankful for all things knowing He is drawing me into an ever deeper relationship with Him, is abundant life.  I have it now.

Living in the Ordinariness

24 Monday Sep 2012

Posted by in All, Heaven and Hell

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Ordinariness.  That is where I feel I am.  The activities of today feel like those of yesterday and what I can expect for tomorrow.  Nothing spectacular.  Nothing to distract me from the ordinariness.  Only sameness day in and day out.  I’m not complaining, at least that’s what I tell myself.  In many ways ordinariness is like being in the desert.  And, if you have clicked on the link above, “About Curate Mike,” you will know I like the desert; it is a place where I can hear.

Life seems long in this ordinariness.  I’ve been about the living of life for more than five decades and I’ve been reflecting on that lately.  Periodically, over my life, there have been reports of an impending scientific breakthrough that would result life longer than the eighty-ish years we average.  When those reports surface, I find myself wondering whether I would avail myself of such a life-extending “pill” were one to be made available?

But why stop with simply extending this life?  Extrapolating out, what if a pill were developed that would stop the aging process where I am…would I take it?  I’m still in good health and of reasonably sharp mind, and I’ve gained some wisdom from living a while; would I take the pill and stop my own aging?  Better yet, imagine a pill that would return me to my peak physical and mental condition while I retain the wisdom I’ve gained…would I take that sort of “eternal life” pill?

No.

I miss my home.  I used to travel to Europe occasionally in a previous job.  It was fun to go and see new sights and have new experiences.  However, no matter how well I tried to fit in I was always an alien in a foreign land.  So, after some time I found I missed my home with my wife and friends, and its familiar sights, sounds, smells, and tastes.  But even all of its wonders and familiarity, even this place is simply not home for me; I’m an alien even here.  There is an echo of a voice within me reminding me of a different home for which I long, the place in which I was really created to live.

And there is another reason I wouldn’t take that kind of eternal life pill.  I find that it is wearying being me.  I know what goes on within me that you can’t see (and what you can see is often bad enough): the radical self-centeredness; the thoughts and feelings of pride, greed, lust, intolerant judgment; wishing I were funnier, smarter, more athletic,  more musical, better liked…perhaps you get the idea.  And, in the middle of the night I am sometimes haunted by my past decisions as I lie awake.  Sometimes people refer to this stuff as “baggage.”  It seems the longer one lives the more baggage one accumulates.  At least that is my experience.

As a Christian fellow I know that God has forgiven me and continues to forgive me for all this stuff.  He takes the baggage from me and yet I still feel its weight; that is one of the tensions of the Christian life, I think.  I’m forgiven, but I have to persevere in the battle against myself and endurethe consequence of feeling the pain of people I hurt.  At this moment, in the ordinariness of life with nothing to distract me, this battle within me seems particularly wearisome; the old baggage seems especially heavy.  And in this ordinariness with no distraction my dissatisfaction with myself becomes more acute.  I can hear the echo of that same voice, the voice of God who spoke me into existence, calling to me to become who He created me to be.  I long for that restful life.

Sure, I have hope in the ordinariness.  As I have said before, I have the ordinary hopes of experiencing small, God-made changes in me and the great foundational hope of one day being a child of my Father in a way that I am only now through, or in, Jesus…that way of living seems heavenly to me.

But, to remain as I am now for all eternity, after all these years still being unable to change my basic character by trying harder…oh my, no, I do not want that.  I remember not too many years ago when I didn’t even have Jesus in my life, which meant that my only hope of any changes in me came from my teeth-gritting effort and through gurus and self-help books…all of which had ultimately failed me up to that point…and, well, living for all eternity with only that hope seems particularly hellish.

Foundational Hope

09 Sunday Sep 2012

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Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go forth from your country, and from your relatives and from your father’s house, to the land which I will show you; and I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great; and so you shall be a blessing; and I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse. And in you all the families of the earth will be blessed.” —Genesis 12:1-3

Previously I talked about the two types of hope: ordinary hopes, those many day-to-day hopes, and a fundamental hope, that which is left when all other hopes are gone. Philosophers, theologians, and psychologists all generally recognize that we each seem to have an intrinsic, foundational hope for something better, for us as individuals to become something better and for our world in general to be better. Sometimes this hope is referred to as not-yet-being, implied in this hope is the idea of becoming, that we are each on a journey of becoming better, moving toward some ultimate good?

How does this happen? You can imagine that the answers are manifold. During the 19th and early 20th centuries, people believed that we were progressing toward this good through the sciences, both in our understanding of nature and human nature. However, the atrocities of World Wars I and II stopped this thinking. Yet, as our memory of those wars dim we seem to be moving back to that thinking, that science and now government can bring about utopia (see philosopher Thomas Hobbes 15th century writing on the Leviathan, or benevolent dictator). Even if true, this does not really address foundational hope for the individual. From where does foundational hope come?

For many, foundational hope lies beyond death, that there is something beyond this life that will be ultimately good, however we define “good.” Every religion that comes to my mind offers this foundational hope for a ultimately good existence after death. Many who have attempted suicide have reported that it was not fundamental despair that drove them to try and take their own lives. Rather, it was fundamental hope! The ordinary day-to-day despairs overwhelmed them and they felt all that was left was fundamental hope, something better awaiting a them after death.

However, there are some who believe this world is all there is (nihilists). For these, there can be no individual, foundational hope; only foundational despair can exist if they were to be honest about it. With no greater good toward which to hope one is left only with what this world offers: temporary, ordinary hopes and the distraction of busyness to keep one from the falling into the abyss of fundamental despair. Blaise Pascal put it this way:

I know not who put me into the world, nor what the world is, nor what I myself am. I am terribly ignorant of everything. I know not what my body is, or my senses, or my soul, or even that part of me which thinks what I am saying, which reflects about everything and about itself, and does not know itself any better than it knows anything else.

Just as I do not know whence I come, so I do not know whither I am going. All I know is that when I leave this world I shall fall for ever into nothingness or into the hands of a wrathful God, but I do not know which of these two states is to be my eternal lot. Such is my state, full of weakness and uncertainty. And my conclusion from all this is that I must pass my days without a thought of seeking what is to happen to me. Perhaps I might find some enlightenment in my doubts, but I do not want to take the trouble, nor take a step to look for it; and afterwards, as I sneer at those who are striving to this end…I will go without fear or foresight to face so momentous an event, and allow myself to be carried off limply to my death, uncertain of my future state for all eternity.

I began this topic by noting that the writer of the biblical book of Hebrews says that the things on which we Christians most often focus our thoughts, repentance, faith toward God, resurrection from the dead, and eternal judgment, were the elementary things (Hebrews 6:1-2); there is something much better (for mature audiences!). The writer goes on to claim that this better thing is hope (Hebrews 6:19-20):

This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast and one which enters within the veil, where Jesus has entered as a forerunner for us, having become a high priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.

This promised hope is “as an anchor of the soul.” Strong words. What is this foundational hope, this sure and steadfast anchor of the soul? It is what Christianity, Christ, has to offer us and the world. It is God’s promise first given to Abram (above) and repeated and unwrapped throughout the four millennia since. What is this profound promise and what does it offer to us and the world?

Two Hopes

05 Wednesday Sep 2012

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Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.

—Psalm 42:5-6

“Hope springs eternal.” I wonder why. What is it about hope that causes it to be an integral part of the human soul such that it “springs eternal”? Bernard Schumacher, in his book, A Philosophy of Hope, says this (2):

…hope is philosophically significant by virtue of the fact that it constitutes a fundamental and central mode of human existence; it is the principle driving force of the historical-temporal human being… A human being without hope is like a walking corpse, which is both physiologically and metaphysically absurd.

“The principle driving force of the…human being.” Imagine that. If hope is that foundational to us as humans, it seems we should be able to answer the seemingly simply question, “What is the object of our hope?”. What is your answer? Perhaps it is not so easy for you.

Philosophers often talk of two types of hope: ordinary and foundational, and their opposites, ordinary despairs and foundational despair. Ordinary hopes (plural) are those things for which we hope every day: the local team to win, get a job, find the right house, rain, sun, pass a test, make it to work on time, stay healthy, our various plans…the list can be long. When the object of an ordinary hope fails to be fulfilled, we face ordinary despair, the depths of which depend on the strength of our ordinary hope in the object. Our day-to-day lives are filled with fulfilled and unfulfilled hopes, with ordinary hopes and ordinary despairs.

Perhaps at this point it is good to make several distinctions. Hope differs from desire. I have a strong desire to one day walk on the moon; however, I have no real hope of accomplishing it. Hope finds its basis in at least the real possibility that it can be fulfilled whereas desires have no such condition. Hope differs from optimism in a more subtle way. Optimism is rooted in a positive attitude toward a positive outcome. “Things will turn out for the best,” or “This too shall pass” are common statements of optimism. The “best” or what we want to “pass” is too vague to be called a hope. Optimism sits on the surface of our soul and doesn’t penetrate deeply.

These distinctions are important. Desire or optimism mistaken for hope can lead to unwarranted despair. Continuing my example, I desire to walk on the moon; it will not happen, it is simply not a realistic expectation for me to hold. To despair over it is to live in a fantasy world of unreality. So it is with optimism. In reality we know that things don’t always turn out for the best as we want to define “best,” meaning comfort, happiness, financial security, etc.–the Disney movie sort of happily ever after world in which the animals sing and dance around us. Again, despair from failed optimism is unwarranted.

Hope, real hope, according to some philosophers, has at least six characteristics: it is at least possible for the thing hoped for to occur; what we hope for must be good in some respect; it is difficult to obtain and requires effort; it is outside of our control; the thing hoped for may not be fulfilled (uncertainty); fosters an attitude of expectant waiting.

Foundational hope (singular) is different from ordinary hopes. Foundational hope remains when all other hopes are gone. This is best imagined in an end-of-life scenario: the martyr, the dying patient, or the death row inmate with no more hope of appeal. Without foundational hope we would be like a “walking corpse.”

Foundational hope sounds interesting….