"Change is inevitable--except from a vending machine".-Robert C. Gallagher
There I was, doing my scheduled trip to work, but across a terrain entirely different to normal. A sudden substantial drop in the temperature the evening before had swiftly adjusted the routine rain into snow, and although it hadn't lasted very long, it had left a frozen system of roads and pavements.
Doing things that had been commonplace the day before suddenly became dangerous, and the busy rush to work had become a very slow, thin trickle of people and vehicles.
What a difference just one change can make.
In a few hours, the world had been shifted.
Then, I reached the city, and it was as though I'd been mistaken - the roads here were free of any frost and ice, and it looked just like it did the day before.
Two very different worlds very close to each other, each requiring a different way of thinking, of behaving, to use them without harm.
We encounter such changes without thinking, at least until the impact on us is direct and immediate, but such sharp turns should make us think.
When a moment happens suddenly like yesterday, you have to adapt quickly to continue doing what's required, but there are far more subtle changes happening around us every moment of every day that, when they reach a tipping point, can result in an entire world becoming opened or closed to us, at both the smallest and largest of levels.
A relationship is suddenly begun or lost because two people see each other differently, businesses rise and fall through particular choices or what we deem to be free choices become defined by subtle analysis of our prior decisions, so we begin to be 'directed' by specific forms of media or other controls.
Change generally means something quite radical happening to us and our world, but how can we be sure it's for our good?
When we think about just one strand of life - say, the differences between the sexes - we quickly begin to notice that these may often be subtle, but they are inherently there. When changes that seek to deny these realties are imposed (think Russia in the 1920s), they fail, even if there's huge ideological momentum behind them, because they deny something far more important about us.
Change cannot usually erase or adjust for the better what we are at our core. For that kind of change, you need something impacting upon us that is far greater than dogma or stronger than gravity. You need grace.
Grace has the kind of strength delivered by a hurricane, but the gentleness of a nursing mother. Grace has the depth and height of the most breathtaking natural wonder you've encountered (or all of them combined), but the tenderness to speak tenderly to the most troubled conscience.
Our world is often a place that snubs grace.
Grace is something given to us beyond our comprehension, beyond our estimated worth or abilities. It makes it OK for me to live, as I am, gaining light about what I am and ought to be.
God wants us to know that change above and beyond anything else - that's why He became one of us - to say that right here, right now, life can be so much more than we ever imagined.
Grace is always there, even when we think we've moved way beyond its orbit - it's amazing how it can bring recovery.
Every day of your life may bring changes, large and small, but there's one key thing each of us need all the time.
Time to take a look at the world of Grace.
Saturday, 2 February 2019
Wednesday, 23 January 2019
Unwound
"Never let your sense of morals prevent you from doing what is right".
"Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent".
Issac Asimov - Foundation.
A few months ago, a friend of mine got in touch to say that someone in his church was looking at starting a blog on the amazing world of science fiction and needed some help getting started by someone providing something that would inspire further writing. Knowing of my passion for the subject, I was asked if I could provide such a piece, so I quickly set to work.
It didn't take me long to delve back into over 50 years of pretty well continual engagement with the genre and to start mapping out the scope and range of a realm of stories that has seen much of its popular flowering in my own lifetime. Even as I did so, I began to get ideas for other pieces that could also be written, so it really wasn't any great surprise to me that in the end, I had to submit two articles on the key themes and not just one.
Something, however, has bothered me in the weeks following my burst of somewhat nostalgic creativity, and it became more acute in the last week, particularly as I began to ponder a particular question.
What if I had not been born in the 60s, but was born, say sometime in the last twenty years, and I was encountering this realm, not principally through the 'eyes' of the golden age of such fiction, but particularly in what's currently being generated, especially as 'popular' sci-fi, now. What would my impressions and affiliation to the field be?
Well, I'd probably still be wowed by some of the visual scope of what's being done. It would appear we're now capable of putting pretty much anything on screen, from vast spacial vistas, to really strange life, to conflicts involving thousands, so story-telling has clearly come a very long way, but what of the stories themselves? What of the themes, the characters, the deep drama, the excellence of resolutions to sweeping tales and the intellectual pay-off of getting us to think deeply about ourselves?
If the recent ventures of popular long-standing shows in this field are anything to go by, then all of this has suffered terribly of late. The money to make visual 'zing' may be there, but the stories themselves, given the reaction of the died in the wool fans, leaves a great deal to be desired, and this is really troubling.
Science Fiction was never afraid to play with all kinds of ideas about us, culture, progress and these often really got you having to pause and give them time, but this was never done in a 'convert or die' fashion. If something was good enough, deep enough, smart enough, it would keep you thinking, but the days of such craft, such wisdom appear to be reaching a troubling end. Most shows now apply a world-view sledgehammer all the time , making it clear that deviation from the line expressed is a heinous deviancy of the most ugly kind, so woe betide you if you outwardly question what's going on.
It's somewhat akin to what happens in the third season of one of the recent sci-fi shows that isn't following this blandness - the Expanse.
A vast ring in space has been constructed in our solar system by an alien civilization that we know very little about. Humans from Earth, Mars and the Asteroid belt sends ships to investigate and soon discover they can penetrate the field the ring creates to explore what's inside, but this field is as deadly as it mysterious, and all manner of troubles begin to befall the intrepid crews as they seek to learn more and discover what is really happening.
Much of current media, science fiction included, is like that ring - when you recognize the sphere of cultural influence and the 'exotic' notions behind much in media at present, you realize that there are very serious hazards and pitfalls in play in where Western culture is currently heading - a kind of 'right-mind' think that is seeking to eat whole the way in which we speak, act and identify who and what we are. Business, institutions and media are swallowing this apparent 'rightness' wholesale, and it's got to be questioned.
Today, I was reminded again of how brilliant Science Fiction can be when it gets us to question what we're being told we must accept.
Christianity isn't about not asking those questions of what's going on. It's about asking them well and giving substantial answers, so if you find yourself adrift in the current miasma of what's going on at present around us, check out some 'old' stuff - both in Science Fiction and Christianity. I suspect you'll be pleasantly surprised, perhaps even a little shocked, at the treasures that you'll find there.
"Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent".
Issac Asimov - Foundation.
A few months ago, a friend of mine got in touch to say that someone in his church was looking at starting a blog on the amazing world of science fiction and needed some help getting started by someone providing something that would inspire further writing. Knowing of my passion for the subject, I was asked if I could provide such a piece, so I quickly set to work.
It didn't take me long to delve back into over 50 years of pretty well continual engagement with the genre and to start mapping out the scope and range of a realm of stories that has seen much of its popular flowering in my own lifetime. Even as I did so, I began to get ideas for other pieces that could also be written, so it really wasn't any great surprise to me that in the end, I had to submit two articles on the key themes and not just one.
Something, however, has bothered me in the weeks following my burst of somewhat nostalgic creativity, and it became more acute in the last week, particularly as I began to ponder a particular question.
What if I had not been born in the 60s, but was born, say sometime in the last twenty years, and I was encountering this realm, not principally through the 'eyes' of the golden age of such fiction, but particularly in what's currently being generated, especially as 'popular' sci-fi, now. What would my impressions and affiliation to the field be?
Well, I'd probably still be wowed by some of the visual scope of what's being done. It would appear we're now capable of putting pretty much anything on screen, from vast spacial vistas, to really strange life, to conflicts involving thousands, so story-telling has clearly come a very long way, but what of the stories themselves? What of the themes, the characters, the deep drama, the excellence of resolutions to sweeping tales and the intellectual pay-off of getting us to think deeply about ourselves?
If the recent ventures of popular long-standing shows in this field are anything to go by, then all of this has suffered terribly of late. The money to make visual 'zing' may be there, but the stories themselves, given the reaction of the died in the wool fans, leaves a great deal to be desired, and this is really troubling.
Science Fiction was never afraid to play with all kinds of ideas about us, culture, progress and these often really got you having to pause and give them time, but this was never done in a 'convert or die' fashion. If something was good enough, deep enough, smart enough, it would keep you thinking, but the days of such craft, such wisdom appear to be reaching a troubling end. Most shows now apply a world-view sledgehammer all the time , making it clear that deviation from the line expressed is a heinous deviancy of the most ugly kind, so woe betide you if you outwardly question what's going on.
It's somewhat akin to what happens in the third season of one of the recent sci-fi shows that isn't following this blandness - the Expanse.
A vast ring in space has been constructed in our solar system by an alien civilization that we know very little about. Humans from Earth, Mars and the Asteroid belt sends ships to investigate and soon discover they can penetrate the field the ring creates to explore what's inside, but this field is as deadly as it mysterious, and all manner of troubles begin to befall the intrepid crews as they seek to learn more and discover what is really happening.
Much of current media, science fiction included, is like that ring - when you recognize the sphere of cultural influence and the 'exotic' notions behind much in media at present, you realize that there are very serious hazards and pitfalls in play in where Western culture is currently heading - a kind of 'right-mind' think that is seeking to eat whole the way in which we speak, act and identify who and what we are. Business, institutions and media are swallowing this apparent 'rightness' wholesale, and it's got to be questioned.
Today, I was reminded again of how brilliant Science Fiction can be when it gets us to question what we're being told we must accept.
Christianity isn't about not asking those questions of what's going on. It's about asking them well and giving substantial answers, so if you find yourself adrift in the current miasma of what's going on at present around us, check out some 'old' stuff - both in Science Fiction and Christianity. I suspect you'll be pleasantly surprised, perhaps even a little shocked, at the treasures that you'll find there.
Sunday, 13 January 2019
Focus
"Seeing well is all about encountering things with your whole being. It means looking deeper, beyond the labels, and enjoying discovering what's really there".
Freeman Patterson.
"Looking to Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith".
The Book of Hebrews.
One of the things I love about enjoying photography is how it allows you to see things in a fresh way.
I'll never forget my first real lesson on this.
My late wife and I used to travel along a particular road regularly in our early days in Cornwall which used to bend to allow you a view of a field of blood red earth. There was a tall old oak on the far end of the field, and during the autumn and winter, the light would travel over this spot in the most magnificent way.
We would often stop the car and sit, quietly, as she would say to me 'look at the light', and I would watch, transfixed, as the rays would stretch and arc across the rich contours of the ploughed landscape, forming all manner of shapes and forms with light and and shadow - a dance of nature.
I've never looked at things the same way since. Beauty is to be found in the most remarkable of places, and it strikes us, transforms us, when it 'speaks' to our core.
Reading Paul Zahl's 'Grace in Practice' this morning, I came across a statement that caused me to 'look at the light' as I arose.
"When grace is heard and received, when it is not confounded in any degree by the law (God's law - which leaves us condemned in ourselves), it paints a masterpiece: a person unconditionally affirmed who becomes instantaneously the expresser of love, joy, peace, meekness, kindness and creativity".
As a Photographer, I'm constantly seeking to use the 'tools' that feed into the lens of my camera to compose something that will convey the essence of a moment. These include light and form, shadow and texture, colour and mood, all passing through the means that will, hopefully, convey something of the richness of what was happening the moment the shutter opened and, bam, there it is - something wonderful.
The same is true of how God's grace feeds us. We look at the dross of our own pain and misery and strife, and we remain fixed in the futility of our failure, but grace clothes our filthiness, envelopes us in unmerited, astonishing affection, gives us an inheritance undeserved yet of sublime status, takes us in to banquet beneath the banner of everlasting affection, and rejoices wholly in our recovery.
Like sunlight breaking through on a iron-sky day, we're revived when we understand the "unbreakable acceptance of love of our Father" (Jim Mc Neely - The Romance of Grace) which alone causes affection to well up in us as naturally as light beautifies what it touches.
Jesus Christ is the full expression of the goodness of our heavenly Father because He alone comes and gives Himself fully and completely for us. How, writes Paul, can anything then sever us from such a love evidenced in Jesus?
There are always times when we feel so broken and disheartened because of our troubles or sins, but God wants to look at the light, to find rest in the good news of His care and mercy toward us. That is the image that's worth taking and worth sharing.
Freeman Patterson.
"Looking to Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith".
The Book of Hebrews.
One of the things I love about enjoying photography is how it allows you to see things in a fresh way.
I'll never forget my first real lesson on this.
My late wife and I used to travel along a particular road regularly in our early days in Cornwall which used to bend to allow you a view of a field of blood red earth. There was a tall old oak on the far end of the field, and during the autumn and winter, the light would travel over this spot in the most magnificent way.
We would often stop the car and sit, quietly, as she would say to me 'look at the light', and I would watch, transfixed, as the rays would stretch and arc across the rich contours of the ploughed landscape, forming all manner of shapes and forms with light and and shadow - a dance of nature.
I've never looked at things the same way since. Beauty is to be found in the most remarkable of places, and it strikes us, transforms us, when it 'speaks' to our core.
Reading Paul Zahl's 'Grace in Practice' this morning, I came across a statement that caused me to 'look at the light' as I arose.
"When grace is heard and received, when it is not confounded in any degree by the law (God's law - which leaves us condemned in ourselves), it paints a masterpiece: a person unconditionally affirmed who becomes instantaneously the expresser of love, joy, peace, meekness, kindness and creativity".
As a Photographer, I'm constantly seeking to use the 'tools' that feed into the lens of my camera to compose something that will convey the essence of a moment. These include light and form, shadow and texture, colour and mood, all passing through the means that will, hopefully, convey something of the richness of what was happening the moment the shutter opened and, bam, there it is - something wonderful.
The same is true of how God's grace feeds us. We look at the dross of our own pain and misery and strife, and we remain fixed in the futility of our failure, but grace clothes our filthiness, envelopes us in unmerited, astonishing affection, gives us an inheritance undeserved yet of sublime status, takes us in to banquet beneath the banner of everlasting affection, and rejoices wholly in our recovery.
Like sunlight breaking through on a iron-sky day, we're revived when we understand the "unbreakable acceptance of love of our Father" (Jim Mc Neely - The Romance of Grace) which alone causes affection to well up in us as naturally as light beautifies what it touches.
Jesus Christ is the full expression of the goodness of our heavenly Father because He alone comes and gives Himself fully and completely for us. How, writes Paul, can anything then sever us from such a love evidenced in Jesus?
There are always times when we feel so broken and disheartened because of our troubles or sins, but God wants to look at the light, to find rest in the good news of His care and mercy toward us. That is the image that's worth taking and worth sharing.
Sunday, 6 January 2019
Missing the Mark
"In the bleak midwinter".
It's that strange time of year.
I've been back at work for a week and a half, but most of the world here has been in 'hibernation mode', barely appearing except for the necessities.
It's no doubt understandable in the midst of the darkness of the short days, but it can often work hard upon those who are alone.
I've spent many of my free hours in study and had an opportunity to deepen my sharing regarding the faith with someone close to me. They visited church over Christmas, like many do, and wanted to enquire into finding somewhere worthwhile attending to discover more.
Christmas is, no doubt, a very busy season for many churches. The church I attend holds about four times the services in December that it does the rest of the year as people in their hundreds come. The question, no doubt, should be, what do you do about that?
Having found a list of reasonably local churches to the home of my enquirer, I set about searching through their web pages to see what they were about and what was happening in the next few months. I eventually found a church that was very effectively setting out its stall regarding what was going on and where it was coming from, but for that single church that was warmly reaching out there were many others that had nothing to say to people, like me, who were searching for somewhere to connect after Christmas. Sure, there were plenty of 'in house' items mentioned, be they local fetes or "specialized" groups for youth, or worship, or students, but nothing for the average person that was wanting to find a way to turn up and learn more.
What a sorry state of affairs.
We've just had the season which, hopefully, unwraps something of the richest treasure given to our sullen world, and that should at least generate some measure of curiosity amongst those who have passed the threshold of our gatherings, so is it really the time to go silent?
Closing down for a few warm days together is fine, so long as even in the midst of that, we're already thinking about what is just ahead and making sure that we're ready to welcome others in to enjoy the radiance of the glory which Christmas brings.
It's that strange time of year.
I've been back at work for a week and a half, but most of the world here has been in 'hibernation mode', barely appearing except for the necessities.
It's no doubt understandable in the midst of the darkness of the short days, but it can often work hard upon those who are alone.
I've spent many of my free hours in study and had an opportunity to deepen my sharing regarding the faith with someone close to me. They visited church over Christmas, like many do, and wanted to enquire into finding somewhere worthwhile attending to discover more.
Christmas is, no doubt, a very busy season for many churches. The church I attend holds about four times the services in December that it does the rest of the year as people in their hundreds come. The question, no doubt, should be, what do you do about that?
Having found a list of reasonably local churches to the home of my enquirer, I set about searching through their web pages to see what they were about and what was happening in the next few months. I eventually found a church that was very effectively setting out its stall regarding what was going on and where it was coming from, but for that single church that was warmly reaching out there were many others that had nothing to say to people, like me, who were searching for somewhere to connect after Christmas. Sure, there were plenty of 'in house' items mentioned, be they local fetes or "specialized" groups for youth, or worship, or students, but nothing for the average person that was wanting to find a way to turn up and learn more.
What a sorry state of affairs.
We've just had the season which, hopefully, unwraps something of the richest treasure given to our sullen world, and that should at least generate some measure of curiosity amongst those who have passed the threshold of our gatherings, so is it really the time to go silent?
Closing down for a few warm days together is fine, so long as even in the midst of that, we're already thinking about what is just ahead and making sure that we're ready to welcome others in to enjoy the radiance of the glory which Christmas brings.
Monday, 31 December 2018
Jinxed!
"I am not a number - I'm a free man!"
The Prisoner.
So, what's more annoying than having to fix a serious fault?
Discovering that the detector that said you had the fault was the fault (especially if you discover this after spending money to repair a fault that wasn't really there to begin with).
Think it doesn't happen?
Actually, it is a very common occurrence, but whereas it used to be just about fixing a brake light or changing your oil, now it can be far, far more serious.
We're talking, in essence, about algorithms, lines of code that determine not just how your car runs or your phone works, but whether you get off a criminal listing, are viable for benefits, or to be considered a social risk.
The problem is that much of this determination is made in a fashion that is incredibly naive and facile, purely because the character of the programing is often quite superficial, but that doesn't change the fact that people's lives are being decimated by the consequences.
Bad programming quite literally leads to dreadful consequences. The problems arise, of course, because the best these machines have to go on is what's been placed in them... by us.
Is what's true when it comes to A I systems also true when it comes to the way we 'do' our own thinking about the nature of truth? How often are we shaped in our conclusions here by poor or miss-placed notions of what matters?
I was recently listening to Sam Harris debate Jordan Peterson about various evaluations he'd reached and how they diverged on this, principally because Sam had a very telling (and common) view about 'God' informing his objections. This was expressed in various ways, but one popular notion expressed was how vengeful and capricious 'God' was because He required the extermination of those living in the land of Canaan when the Israelites arrived and began their conquest. Entire peoples, Sam noted, were to wiped out purely because Joshua and company were instructed to do so - all finished off, foom, in a heartbeat, because of the command of this 'just' God.
Sounds pretty damning.
Then I thought about it. This was actually a case of a false fault signal.
If you take a look at the prior 400 years of the history of the region (and there are various snapshots in Genesis, Exodus and Joshua on this), you begin to see that this wasn't a snap judgement by some violently-natured ogre. There's a series of jolts in these stories that say 'hey, what are doing being so corrupt that you're murdering innocents - stop it, or there will be a reckoning'.
The remarkable thing about this story isn't that judgement comes. It's how patient and long-suffering God is about this (so, now wait for the atheist analysis that says this shows God is evil because He's too s l o w in dealing with these people!). How long would it be if just one of these tribes set up on our back lawn before we'd be calling the authorities to have them arrested... but God is merciful towards them for centuries, so the usual analysis is just plain wrong.
That's something worth considering in 2019... How good is our thinking about this? Are we seeing the real picture, or just the piece that appeals to our personal whims?
Wholeness often starts right there.
Happy New Year.
The Prisoner.
So, what's more annoying than having to fix a serious fault?
Discovering that the detector that said you had the fault was the fault (especially if you discover this after spending money to repair a fault that wasn't really there to begin with).
Think it doesn't happen?
Actually, it is a very common occurrence, but whereas it used to be just about fixing a brake light or changing your oil, now it can be far, far more serious.
We're talking, in essence, about algorithms, lines of code that determine not just how your car runs or your phone works, but whether you get off a criminal listing, are viable for benefits, or to be considered a social risk.
The problem is that much of this determination is made in a fashion that is incredibly naive and facile, purely because the character of the programing is often quite superficial, but that doesn't change the fact that people's lives are being decimated by the consequences.
Bad programming quite literally leads to dreadful consequences. The problems arise, of course, because the best these machines have to go on is what's been placed in them... by us.
Is what's true when it comes to A I systems also true when it comes to the way we 'do' our own thinking about the nature of truth? How often are we shaped in our conclusions here by poor or miss-placed notions of what matters?
I was recently listening to Sam Harris debate Jordan Peterson about various evaluations he'd reached and how they diverged on this, principally because Sam had a very telling (and common) view about 'God' informing his objections. This was expressed in various ways, but one popular notion expressed was how vengeful and capricious 'God' was because He required the extermination of those living in the land of Canaan when the Israelites arrived and began their conquest. Entire peoples, Sam noted, were to wiped out purely because Joshua and company were instructed to do so - all finished off, foom, in a heartbeat, because of the command of this 'just' God.
Sounds pretty damning.
Then I thought about it. This was actually a case of a false fault signal.
If you take a look at the prior 400 years of the history of the region (and there are various snapshots in Genesis, Exodus and Joshua on this), you begin to see that this wasn't a snap judgement by some violently-natured ogre. There's a series of jolts in these stories that say 'hey, what are doing being so corrupt that you're murdering innocents - stop it, or there will be a reckoning'.
The remarkable thing about this story isn't that judgement comes. It's how patient and long-suffering God is about this (so, now wait for the atheist analysis that says this shows God is evil because He's too s l o w in dealing with these people!). How long would it be if just one of these tribes set up on our back lawn before we'd be calling the authorities to have them arrested... but God is merciful towards them for centuries, so the usual analysis is just plain wrong.
That's something worth considering in 2019... How good is our thinking about this? Are we seeing the real picture, or just the piece that appeals to our personal whims?
Wholeness often starts right there.
Happy New Year.
Monday, 10 December 2018
Amidst the smuged scribblings of rascals
"The problem is not the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem. Understand?" Jack Sparrow.
The festive season looms, so, pull up a chair, take a drink, and enjoy a story...
So, once there was a boy destined to be a king.
To prove his virtue, he was required to spend a night in the forest alone.
Amidst the strange and dark place, the boy found himself overcome by a striking vision.
A voice boomed out from a intense brightness and asked him,
"are you worthy to become the keeper of the sacred cup?"
Before he could answer, he found his mind abuzz with further images - treasures, victories, thousands honoring and serving him. He felt himself welcoming such ambitions, and as he did, a fire fell upon his extended hands and he felt his soul dreadfully wounded and undone.
As he grew older, the inner wound from that night grew deeper, so nothing could fill the void it caused. He found he had no faith, no true love for another, and without comfort and aid, he was surely enslaved to death.
One day, a fool entered the castle and found the benighted king alone. Being simple in his ways, he did not see the troubled soul as a king, only as one in distress and in pain.
"What's wrong?", he asked.
"I'm thirsty".
So the fool took a cup from near the king and filled it with water and gave it to the king to drink.
Instantly, the king's deep wound was healed, for the fool had given him to drink from the sacred cup he had glimpsed that distant day in the woods.
The king turned to the one who had given him aid and said "How did you find what I could not?"
The fool replied "I only saw one in need, and sought to end his thirst".
(The Fisher King).
What I love about this tale is it's truly about us.
We like to think of ourselves resolutely on our way to better things, until of course something far more tempting crosses our path, and then, without exception, we will be pressed till we succumb to something that, indeed, burns us, and however stout or noble we may then appear to others (equally covering their folly), we know, like this king, that we are truly torn and bleeding inside, and the wound is terminal.
The other great thing about the tale is that it takes someone deemed to be outrageously ill equipped - a fool - to see the malady and provide the remedy, purely on the basis of seeking to rescue another.
There isn't any capacity or virtue in the king to change a thing - everything that counts is done to him from outside of himself.
That's the Christmas message.
We can dance and sing, make merry and play, but what's required is a 'fool's wisdom' -
The stable at Bethlehem. The birth of one to take our stead upon the splintered wood of a Roman cross... that's the balm that God wants us to find and drink this season.
The easiest thing is to remain right where we are.
Christmas tells us that we don't have to.
May such warmth warm us this Christmas.
The festive season looms, so, pull up a chair, take a drink, and enjoy a story...
So, once there was a boy destined to be a king.
To prove his virtue, he was required to spend a night in the forest alone.
Amidst the strange and dark place, the boy found himself overcome by a striking vision.
A voice boomed out from a intense brightness and asked him,
"are you worthy to become the keeper of the sacred cup?"
Before he could answer, he found his mind abuzz with further images - treasures, victories, thousands honoring and serving him. He felt himself welcoming such ambitions, and as he did, a fire fell upon his extended hands and he felt his soul dreadfully wounded and undone.
As he grew older, the inner wound from that night grew deeper, so nothing could fill the void it caused. He found he had no faith, no true love for another, and without comfort and aid, he was surely enslaved to death.
One day, a fool entered the castle and found the benighted king alone. Being simple in his ways, he did not see the troubled soul as a king, only as one in distress and in pain.
"What's wrong?", he asked.
"I'm thirsty".
So the fool took a cup from near the king and filled it with water and gave it to the king to drink.
Instantly, the king's deep wound was healed, for the fool had given him to drink from the sacred cup he had glimpsed that distant day in the woods.
The king turned to the one who had given him aid and said "How did you find what I could not?"
The fool replied "I only saw one in need, and sought to end his thirst".
(The Fisher King).
What I love about this tale is it's truly about us.
We like to think of ourselves resolutely on our way to better things, until of course something far more tempting crosses our path, and then, without exception, we will be pressed till we succumb to something that, indeed, burns us, and however stout or noble we may then appear to others (equally covering their folly), we know, like this king, that we are truly torn and bleeding inside, and the wound is terminal.
The other great thing about the tale is that it takes someone deemed to be outrageously ill equipped - a fool - to see the malady and provide the remedy, purely on the basis of seeking to rescue another.
There isn't any capacity or virtue in the king to change a thing - everything that counts is done to him from outside of himself.
That's the Christmas message.
We can dance and sing, make merry and play, but what's required is a 'fool's wisdom' -
The stable at Bethlehem. The birth of one to take our stead upon the splintered wood of a Roman cross... that's the balm that God wants us to find and drink this season.
The easiest thing is to remain right where we are.
Christmas tells us that we don't have to.
May such warmth warm us this Christmas.
Sunday, 2 December 2018
Pointers
"He sighed deeply and asked, 'Why does this generation always seek for a sign?
Truly, I tell you, no sign will be given". Mark 8:12.
I watched a fascinating analysis this morning of one of my favorite movies. Taking several of the major themes and ideas of Villenueuve's epic venture, it seeks to examine what the tale says about ourselves - the way we seek to discover what we are in a world in which we can often feel divorced from what makes life meaningful and our existence worthwhile. Whilst the quest is true for each of us, the longing for that which is distinctively, immortally "us", notes the analysis, is a mistake, an internalizing of worth (fabricating a soul) which leads us, like agent K in the film, into foolishly believing notions about himself which were delusional and distractive, so apparently without worth of pursuit.
Like some pack of zealous assassins, the religious men of twenty centuries ago hounded Christ for something they could quantify and define so they could settle Him into their entrenched mental landscape and thereby revert to their business as usual routine. They called for an evidence to satisfy this requirement because they failed to see what was before them and what that meant to the entire world.
In Blade Runner 2049, K's first "conversation" is with another replicant, Morton, who he deems to be inferior because he is an older model. K's entire clarity in his actions ('retiring' Morton) derives from his ordered perception of what is - any referencing of something greater in respect to himself or other replicants was folly, so he certainly cannot, at this stage, "hear" Morton's reference to a miracle, and yet, what then proceeds to unfold, both in respect to his miss-understanding and the truth, will derive from this one cardinal truth - that a miracle has happened.
Jesus pointedly asks the "religious" mind why it would expect the truly spiritual to conform to its requirements - to just be something such a mind can unpeel and dissect. Like K in that first encounter, such believe they have the tools to unlock what counts, to be and do what is valid, but the lock on their blindness is secure. No sign, no miracle would ever be enough, for they cannot see, as the word is spoken, the action has already been performed - the reality is already, truly there.
The prison must be seen for what it is.
In the film, what is dead and lifeless (Rachel's bones) becomes the key to what is new and vital - the hope of a new humanity.
Jesus tells His disciples to avoid the 'leaven' of the religious - those who can never perceive what counts, and our generation is certainly a time that needs to mark that warning.
In the film, K is finally able to look beyond his own illusions and delusions regarding what counts, and to give himself wholly to safeguarding the people who will take the redemptive nature of what is happening forward.
Christianity is about that very same truth - that the life and death of another is not only the true 'sign' of what must define us, but the true gift that provides that miracle.
This season provides us with two options -
Christ's sigh at the Pharisees inability to recognize what has happened, or God's sign in the incarnation.
May we not be blind to what truly counts.
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