The Moment of Judgment

"you have sinned!"
the emerald-clad Wrath of God looms above me,
his pale finger,
a lightning bolt of judgment frozen in this moment,
hovers a heartbeat away from from my own heart's last beat;
his cold eyes,
pure white fire blazing from a bone-colored face,
hold no pity,
no mercy,
no compassion,
and in those eyes i see
that no reasonable argument,
no heartfelt remorse,
no desperate pleading
would stay this divine executioner's hand,
and so, with closed eyes and bowed head,
i await my final earthly punishment,
my last experience in this life
before my new birth
as eternally living food
for the poison-fanged, burning worms of perdition's dung pits.
my heart beats,
the bolt strikes my head,
and I begin to scream
forever

Pride

"Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly." -GK Chesterton, Orthodoxy

Did the demons fall because they took themselves too seriously? Is that not the real essence of pride, not merely an awareness of your accomplishments, but taking them too seriously? Not self-awareness (false modesty is a lie, thus the "fals" bit), but self-importance. Is it, perhaps, not pride to be proud of your accomplishments, but only pride when you elevate your view of yourself based on your accomplishments? After all, your ability to accomplish anything is based, in part (arguably, a large part) on circumstances beyond your control: the time and place of your birth, your family and friends, your early education, your particular genetic code. True, there is much within your control, choices and efforts you make, but isn't it the case that all such choices and efforts are in arena not of your own making? Enjoy success, let it encourage you to continue to grow and succeed, but don't let it make you think that you are, therefore, better than those around you. From dust you were formed, to dust you will return, and all is vanity.

What is Life?

From Wendell Berry's Life is a Miracle:

To experience [life] is not to "figure it out" or even to understand it, but to suffer it and rejoice in it as it is. In suffering it and rejoicing in it as it is, we know that we do not and cannot understand it completely. We know, moreover, that we do not wish to have it appropriated by somebody's claim to have understood it. Though we have life, it is beyond us. We do not know how we have it, or why. We do not know what is going to happen to it, or to us. It is not predictable; though we can destroy it, we cannot make it. It cannot, except by reduction and the grave risk of damage, be controlled. It is, as Blake said, holy.

So Long, Larry!

Every Christian I know has people who helped them grow when they were young in the faith. Some of those people you know personally, and you form very close bonds of love with them. Others you know through their books, others through their songs.

When I was a young whippersnapper, moving from a religiously varnished humanism to a deeper relationship with my Creator and Redeemer, one voice that spoke to me through the headphones on my Sony Walkman was Larry Norman. Larry was one of the early of the so-called "Contemporary Christian musicians." His music moved my feet, and his lyrics moved my heart. I spent, literally, hundreds of hours listening to Larry, stopping the music to pray or reflect on something, and then hitting "play" and going back to some strange blend of worship and entertainment.

Larry has been sick for a long time, including some serious heart problems (which is weird, because no one can say the guy didn't have a big heart). Anyway, Larry has gone on to sing for his Lord in a face-to-face kind of way, or, more prosaically, he died, last Monday. He's undoubtedly happy, jamming out with the heavenly band. But, as is typical of us fallen people on this side of the vale, we're faced with loss and more than a bit of sadness. I'm not a huge fan of "Christian" music, but Larry's music truly brought me into a state of mind where I realized I was a fallen human living by the grace of a wonderful God. God bless, Larry, I hope I'll see you in Heaven.

Powerless

Life gets crazy. Not my own life, which (of course) is a paragon of balance, but lives around me. The older I get, the more I want to just fix it, and the more I realize I can't. I have two friends in mental facilities at this moment, one friend who called me at an ungodly early hour this week, and another who called earlier this evening weeping so hard I had no idea what was actually being said. And, other than listen, I can't do a blasted thing to change any of their situations. As a kid, all I did was listen, because that seemed like the most Taoist thing to do. Now I'm older, I actually care more, I want to make a difference, but I also realize there's less that can be done in so many situations.

OK, so this isn't exactly a post, more of a venting. Not against my friends (because Jesus, Mary, and Patrick know that I've been the one on their end of the conversation more'n my fair share), but venting against my occasionally perceived futility to see life and love making the difference.

Of course, I know that it does. I have anecdotes, you have anecdotes. We have faith, we have hope, we have love. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish we had miracles (and not just our 21st century ones "ooh, it's a miracle", I'm talking the Big Biblical kind: "Lazarus, come forth" and stuff.)

I'm really not coming down on God's methodology and strategy, I trust His wisdom. Chaos makes little sense without faith in a higher order. In truth, I have no idea what I'm actually trying to say, or why I'm saying it publicly, but there you have it. Maybe next time I'll go back to blogging about computers :-)