I saw the new movie Avatar this morning. Wow. This blog is about Contemplation, and those of us who practice it have a tendency to find deep connections and meanings in the most everyday sorts of things. So, pop culture is as rich a trove as ancient books.
Avatar is destined to be one of those gems. No doubt it will take it's place alongside LOTR, the Matrix, and Star Wars. Not only for the ground-breaking movie-making, but for the rich story and the boundless new world it has created. I'm sure there will be fans and games and all the customary goofiness to go with it, but amongst it all is a deep resonating truth.
Perhaps best of all for me was that the movie didn't attempt to explain everything. It created a world nearly as full of history and life as Middle Earth and set the story against it. But the whole time I kept feelinglike there was so much I just didn't know yet. Just like Middle Earth's ruins and dialects are full of well-crafted backstory, if only in the imagination of the creator, so is Pandora and the Na'vi. They didn't bother to explain every detail, and becasue of it, I'm sure the fans will gladly take the leaps and develop the world into something far bigger than it started out. It will become an alternate universe of it's own.
As an Environmental Scientist, I also have a certain way of viewing the world just like any professional develops. In that right, it is easy to disappoint me in movies because of simple flaws. For example, Reign of Fire, which had potential to be an excellent world fell short in that dragons burned wholesome food to make into far less valuable ash, which they ate...Not ecologically possible. Better to make them full-on magic creatures than try to scientificize them and do it poorly. But Pandora did not disappoint. From the design of the creatures, to the plant life and even the more mystic elements. This treads the lines enough to be fantastic but without violating any of the veils necessary to suspend disbelief. In short, I bought it.
The story, while certainly applicable to many current events, and certainly full of homage to great works in the past, has a philosophy and a truth that I am still absorbing and processing, applying to my worlds. Without this, it would simply be a good movie. But with it, it has power. It can change people. Affect them. I am not naive enough to think a movie will revolutionize the world, but just as the Matrix has already entered popular thought in ways that many don't even realize, Avatar will do so, I believe. At least it has already for me and likely will for those who think along my lines.
It's too early for me to express it just yet. But it has grabbed my imagination and the webs are forming. Go see it and let's talk about it.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Faith
I have been reading Martin Luther...finally. How much we miss by not diving and slowly swimming through these deep seas that support our small lakes of circumstance and experience. Waters upon waters. I know how this works, being an environmetnal scientist. A natural column of water is not uniform, but changes as one descends. Deep oceans can even harbor unique ecosystems in various levels with minimal interaction between levels.
Anyway, I am constantly struck by points which force me to stop and consider more thoroughly. The most recent is faith. I have often considered this. What is faith? The answer is as usual, so simple it elludes us. I have even done a thorough study of every instance of the word in the Gospels and it bears this out.
So now, so simple, and yet another dimension has occured to me from Luther. What is faith? It is simple trust. Trust in the sense of confidence. Even in the financial, business sense. Luther tells me that faith is thus:
The law, precepts, are provided to convict. They are so strict that no one can comply. We often dumb them down to a manageable level through interpretation because we recognize the futility of accomplishing them. All covet. All hate. All dishonor. All lust. None of us can help ourselves. And the law is clear that no violation will escape. No sliding scale. It is final. Therefore, the law does not provide a means of salvation or hope, but of condemnation and despair. If we honestly look at the extensive detail of the precepts and compare our lives, we are quite frankly screwed. What to do? We cannot help ourselves. Sentence is passed, effective date is set. Upon death, the sentence takes effect.
So into that world steps someone who says, "I fulfill the requirements of the law and you are pardoned." But are we? Who is this person? By what authority does he speak? We can weigh the evidence, and it is substantial. But we can't step over the sentence date to verify. Ultimately, we will be faced with the choice. Is this accurate? Do I trust this person to (1) have the authority/means, (2) to follow through with the promise. What else can I do. I cannot save myself, but if I will trust that this person can and will do as he says, I am free. I won't know until after the reprieve.
This is faith. Those with little of it may find themselves freed, but only after a life of despair and fear; escaping as one through the flames. But those who take their benefactor at his word find that he is increasingly proven to be true.
As I type, hundreds of references and connections are racing through my mind like Paul Atreides watching the lines of destiny and time. This fits incredibly well with what Paul, and Peter, and Jesus, and the entire Bible say.
Why like this? So that all begins and ends with God himself. There is nothing for us to do, but comply. I wager that the entire universe and human history is one big conglomeration of metaphors designed to rectify the one sin...the only real root of all sin...the unholy "I"...pride.
Check my accounts. I invite you to point out where I may be wrong. Truth is refined through debate and criticism. Just approach it honestly.
Anyway, I am constantly struck by points which force me to stop and consider more thoroughly. The most recent is faith. I have often considered this. What is faith? The answer is as usual, so simple it elludes us. I have even done a thorough study of every instance of the word in the Gospels and it bears this out.
So now, so simple, and yet another dimension has occured to me from Luther. What is faith? It is simple trust. Trust in the sense of confidence. Even in the financial, business sense. Luther tells me that faith is thus:
The law, precepts, are provided to convict. They are so strict that no one can comply. We often dumb them down to a manageable level through interpretation because we recognize the futility of accomplishing them. All covet. All hate. All dishonor. All lust. None of us can help ourselves. And the law is clear that no violation will escape. No sliding scale. It is final. Therefore, the law does not provide a means of salvation or hope, but of condemnation and despair. If we honestly look at the extensive detail of the precepts and compare our lives, we are quite frankly screwed. What to do? We cannot help ourselves. Sentence is passed, effective date is set. Upon death, the sentence takes effect.
So into that world steps someone who says, "I fulfill the requirements of the law and you are pardoned." But are we? Who is this person? By what authority does he speak? We can weigh the evidence, and it is substantial. But we can't step over the sentence date to verify. Ultimately, we will be faced with the choice. Is this accurate? Do I trust this person to (1) have the authority/means, (2) to follow through with the promise. What else can I do. I cannot save myself, but if I will trust that this person can and will do as he says, I am free. I won't know until after the reprieve.
This is faith. Those with little of it may find themselves freed, but only after a life of despair and fear; escaping as one through the flames. But those who take their benefactor at his word find that he is increasingly proven to be true.
As I type, hundreds of references and connections are racing through my mind like Paul Atreides watching the lines of destiny and time. This fits incredibly well with what Paul, and Peter, and Jesus, and the entire Bible say.
Why like this? So that all begins and ends with God himself. There is nothing for us to do, but comply. I wager that the entire universe and human history is one big conglomeration of metaphors designed to rectify the one sin...the only real root of all sin...the unholy "I"...pride.
Check my accounts. I invite you to point out where I may be wrong. Truth is refined through debate and criticism. Just approach it honestly.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Space & Silence
I just finished watching a promotional video and reading the website for Virgin Galactic. This is a company created by Richard Branson of the Virgin brand. Today they unveiled their second generation commercial spacecraft. The spaceport and runway are under construction. Everything done to the Greenest specs. Reservations are being taken now. The promotions are impressive. This is not an airline, so much as an adventure tour designed to make a reality of what Epcot and many others have dreamed of. The current price is $200,000 for a flight with a $20,000 refundable deposit. Still out of range for most people, which will give it time before it becomes a bus for a villanous rabble of crowded seats and bad service. Right now it is clean and pure.
Looking it over and reading the material, I am struck by the intense emotions it stirs in me. It is this sort of thing that keeps me in the Bright Green camp. A vision of a beautiful merger of human ingenuity, poetry, science, and nature. Humans at their best, which is pitiful rare and less than is necessary. We cannot save ourselves, but the divine spark is in us. We are not all bad.
Thinking of the otherworldliness of such an experience, reading the descriptions from the test runs, it will be a world of experiences pressed together. The expectation, the intensity, the release, and the compression back into the everyday. I have often looked for good descriptions of what it is like to experience space. To live outside of our realm. I am struck by the silence that they describe. As the rocket engines cease, there will be utter silence it says, surrounded by sublime otherworldy visual beauty and the experience of no weight pulling against ones muscles and bones, the loss of up and down.
Space is silent. If God is "up" in our conception, then this is His realm. Amazing that the metaphor extends so well into an experience the writers of those metaphors could never have known. God dwells in silence. In perfect peace. Be still and know... Our senses fail and cannot fully appreciate what it is to be in that mode. But it is attractive. Once it repelled me, but it has drawn me in as I have glimpsed pieces of it.
I am not wholly ignorant of it. I have often sought out these kinds of otherworldy experiences. I am reminded of free-diving. The stillness, the cold, the quiet, the loss of up and down, the beauty. I wonder if in space, I would hear my heart beat as clearly as I do under water?
I have taken a deep breath (the expectation) and plunged head first into the blue deep (the intensity). No air, so sounds are perverted, and ultimately stilled, though those that persist are long and distant. The rhythm of my lungs, my constant accompaniment, is stilled and the pulse of the liquid within me replaces it, slowing, slowing, as I hang between planes(the release). Up or down, right or left have no meaning save in relation to my own body. The zen masters were right. The center of the universe is 6 centimeters below my navel. Strange shapes move about me, sleek and fast. Eyeing me and ignoring me. I am insignificant here. And as my body undergoes the mammalian reflex and shadowy webs begin to obscure my vision I am at perfect peace. Just then, I am keenly aware that I am not at all alone. There is a presence pervading this place, pervading me, dwelling here. And it jolts me. My vision recovers, I look for the glimmer and glide toward it. My chest expands with some invisible substance (the recompression) and then I burst back into my world with a deep inhalation.
In some ways this seems the same as the description of space. In other ways it is different. But in both, God dwells, depths and heights. He inhabits these worlds that are not for us. It is sublime.
Looking it over and reading the material, I am struck by the intense emotions it stirs in me. It is this sort of thing that keeps me in the Bright Green camp. A vision of a beautiful merger of human ingenuity, poetry, science, and nature. Humans at their best, which is pitiful rare and less than is necessary. We cannot save ourselves, but the divine spark is in us. We are not all bad.
Thinking of the otherworldliness of such an experience, reading the descriptions from the test runs, it will be a world of experiences pressed together. The expectation, the intensity, the release, and the compression back into the everyday. I have often looked for good descriptions of what it is like to experience space. To live outside of our realm. I am struck by the silence that they describe. As the rocket engines cease, there will be utter silence it says, surrounded by sublime otherworldy visual beauty and the experience of no weight pulling against ones muscles and bones, the loss of up and down.
Space is silent. If God is "up" in our conception, then this is His realm. Amazing that the metaphor extends so well into an experience the writers of those metaphors could never have known. God dwells in silence. In perfect peace. Be still and know... Our senses fail and cannot fully appreciate what it is to be in that mode. But it is attractive. Once it repelled me, but it has drawn me in as I have glimpsed pieces of it.
I am not wholly ignorant of it. I have often sought out these kinds of otherworldy experiences. I am reminded of free-diving. The stillness, the cold, the quiet, the loss of up and down, the beauty. I wonder if in space, I would hear my heart beat as clearly as I do under water?
I have taken a deep breath (the expectation) and plunged head first into the blue deep (the intensity). No air, so sounds are perverted, and ultimately stilled, though those that persist are long and distant. The rhythm of my lungs, my constant accompaniment, is stilled and the pulse of the liquid within me replaces it, slowing, slowing, as I hang between planes(the release). Up or down, right or left have no meaning save in relation to my own body. The zen masters were right. The center of the universe is 6 centimeters below my navel. Strange shapes move about me, sleek and fast. Eyeing me and ignoring me. I am insignificant here. And as my body undergoes the mammalian reflex and shadowy webs begin to obscure my vision I am at perfect peace. Just then, I am keenly aware that I am not at all alone. There is a presence pervading this place, pervading me, dwelling here. And it jolts me. My vision recovers, I look for the glimmer and glide toward it. My chest expands with some invisible substance (the recompression) and then I burst back into my world with a deep inhalation.
In some ways this seems the same as the description of space. In other ways it is different. But in both, God dwells, depths and heights. He inhabits these worlds that are not for us. It is sublime.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Real
What does it mean to be real? The term was popular a few years ago: keep it real, be real, get real...they've all been used. But what does it mean? I guess in its basic sense it has to do with genuineness. No pretense. That carries with it a tone of simplicity, of singleness. And also focus on what is important.
I want to be real. I want to know what is real. I want to live life in its realest, purest form. I want to be ever moving toward greater perfection, greater reality.
So what is real and which direction is more real in my circumstances right now? I want real connections with people. I want to share my life with people. I have this with my family, but I want it in a larger circle. A band, a group, a tribe, stripped of its wierdo connotations. A group of like-minded people to be a part of each other's lives.
What would that like-mindedness center on? Simple reality I think. I have no expectations other than to make our lives better by the synergy of our relation. In other words, to be true friends. To raise our kids together, to share our struggles and joys. I don't mean in any kind of pie-in-the-sky hippie way. Just in a real, genuine, organic, unforced, unartificial, undictated way. No programs, or rules, just people living who get me and I get. A group where our differences make us stronger because they play together instead of against each other. A place where wounds can heal and bonds can grow strong and unbreakable.
This is possible. It is emphactically and empirically possible in our very existing world. Many people already have these kinds of relationships. When is it my turn? When is it yours?
I want to be real. I want to know what is real. I want to live life in its realest, purest form. I want to be ever moving toward greater perfection, greater reality.
So what is real and which direction is more real in my circumstances right now? I want real connections with people. I want to share my life with people. I have this with my family, but I want it in a larger circle. A band, a group, a tribe, stripped of its wierdo connotations. A group of like-minded people to be a part of each other's lives.
What would that like-mindedness center on? Simple reality I think. I have no expectations other than to make our lives better by the synergy of our relation. In other words, to be true friends. To raise our kids together, to share our struggles and joys. I don't mean in any kind of pie-in-the-sky hippie way. Just in a real, genuine, organic, unforced, unartificial, undictated way. No programs, or rules, just people living who get me and I get. A group where our differences make us stronger because they play together instead of against each other. A place where wounds can heal and bonds can grow strong and unbreakable.
This is possible. It is emphactically and empirically possible in our very existing world. Many people already have these kinds of relationships. When is it my turn? When is it yours?
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Sheepdog
I knew someone who once said, if Jesus is the 'Good Shepherd', we should be sheepdogs. This is an excellent metaphor if you think it through.
In order of existence, no human could be equal with God, so an 'animal is to human as human is to God' analogy works well to describe humans. Not to mention that anthropomorphism has always been used to cast a spotlight on aspects of human nature.
Dogs are familiar animals. They are well adapted...actually bred by humans to be companions and assistants to humans. Our two biological paths are intertwined nearly as far back as we can trace. If there is any one animal that would best represent our existence in relation to God's on our own level, I think it would be a dog. They understand us, though not completely. They trust, but think for themselves. They are dependent on us, but capable of surviving alone if conditions are right...though even then, mostly still adjunct to humanity. Few stray dogs actually go wild like, say, a cat might. They are moldable into various behaviors and modes of being...that is, trainable.
Beyond this, dogs exhibit some of the best qualities in humans. Loyalty, affection, devotion, service, selflessness, altruism, etc.
So to extend into the realm of sheepdogs, they go where the shepherd commands. They hear his voice and they know their job. They encircle the sheep and keep them safe. They are extensions of the shepherd, but he is the head. They serve with joy and abandon, because the tasks they perform are what they were bred for. It is instinctual, though it must be refined by training.
They respond only to the Shepherd and will not deviate from his commands, though they are free and unleashed to adapt to their work as they see fit. They also thrive on the praise and affection of the Shepherd and seek no other reward.
In order of existence, no human could be equal with God, so an 'animal is to human as human is to God' analogy works well to describe humans. Not to mention that anthropomorphism has always been used to cast a spotlight on aspects of human nature.
Dogs are familiar animals. They are well adapted...actually bred by humans to be companions and assistants to humans. Our two biological paths are intertwined nearly as far back as we can trace. If there is any one animal that would best represent our existence in relation to God's on our own level, I think it would be a dog. They understand us, though not completely. They trust, but think for themselves. They are dependent on us, but capable of surviving alone if conditions are right...though even then, mostly still adjunct to humanity. Few stray dogs actually go wild like, say, a cat might. They are moldable into various behaviors and modes of being...that is, trainable.
Beyond this, dogs exhibit some of the best qualities in humans. Loyalty, affection, devotion, service, selflessness, altruism, etc.
So to extend into the realm of sheepdogs, they go where the shepherd commands. They hear his voice and they know their job. They encircle the sheep and keep them safe. They are extensions of the shepherd, but he is the head. They serve with joy and abandon, because the tasks they perform are what they were bred for. It is instinctual, though it must be refined by training.
They respond only to the Shepherd and will not deviate from his commands, though they are free and unleashed to adapt to their work as they see fit. They also thrive on the praise and affection of the Shepherd and seek no other reward.
This is what I want to be. This is largely how I feel. Deep down, I honestly don't care for status and accomplishments, career, etc. I just want to do what brings me and others joy and have enough to be sufficient. I want to be free to lay at my master's feet and feel his touch. and when he speaks to me, I want ot respond instantly.
I find this metaphor especially strong in the service I do with children. I find it sheer joy to play with them, to let them be children with me. I would sooner die than have any harm fall to any one of them. But I know the bounds they must have and I am not shy about enforcing those disciplinary boundaries for the sheeps' own good. Better a nip or bark from me than a greater harm that they can't see. I will not allow a sheep to mislead the others and I am fiercely protective of them against any wolves. I know my master's voice and his commands to me and I will obey them until I am called off by him alone.
I hope to be a good sheepdog.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Church
This is a difficult topic for me right now. I just read a book that was ironically recommended by a pastor friend. The book comes from a movement of reformers that are a little over 20 years old. They believe that the modern popular expression of church is flawed at the root and should therefore be done away with in favor of something strictly Biblically based. It goes by different names depending on the flavor of the group. I've heard the arguments before for most of it, but some of this book's arguments are really resonating with me and I'm not sure how that will play out.
I've had a problem with the dry knowledge-based church style. It is dead and changes very little of very few people. I've been involved in charismatic-tilted church and seen the personality cults, the blind devotion to 'signs & wonders' and even those who move across the country repeatedly, chasing the latest 'move'. I've been in the growth-based seeker-church and seen the blatant marketing principles applied and worked on people as if God were a Ad Exec. I'm sorry, when textbook marketing gets butts in your seats, you can't call that God.
I've even been involved in home churches that were cloisters of ungrounded, disenfranchized people who just thought they could do it as well as anyone else...who needs the regular stuff, we'll make our OWN church. And the converse where they think all who meet in buildings are apostate servants of the antichrist.
I've also been involved in radical dregs of the earth ministry church that goes in deep and helps people who couldn't even begin to set foot in traditional churches. And there I've seen the hurt create cliquishness and let's just face it, damaged people do damage. When your whole church is made up of people with serious issues, those issues will play out.
Not that all of these things were all bad. I've seen people's lives changed. I've seen transformations and real moves of God. But I tend to think these things are in spite of and not because of the church structure. Afterall, we're all flawed people. Can we really expect our organizations to not be flawed? This is the conclusion I'd come to and lived under for years.
But then, somewhere deep inside me, I've never been able to shake this small voice, almost too hard to hear, calling out for something more. Longing for a group to share my life with...not a life group or some other forced approximation, but a real connection. A community to live into and to raise my child in. A group like Bunyan's troop making their way along the road in the footsteps of Christian. A group where strong faith carries weaker, where helpfulness arises, where there is a palpable realness of spiritual unity. How do I know this exists?
It's in the New Testament. It's in Bunyan's work. I've even experienced it myself...no really, I have. Not for long, but there was a time and a group, several of whom I am still deeply connected to. For a time, we were a real community. Flawed, yes. But there was a real unity that is beyond human ability. It wasn't just a Sunday thing, or a semester study group. These people were brothers and sisters and we shared everything! Not like some hippie commune, but our lives were a part of each other entirely. Our worship, our problems, our challenges, sicknesses, jobs, marriages, social circles, were all intertwined in this group. It was Holy.
But then it ended. Perhaps we tried too hard. Perhaps we tried to do too much. Perhaps we fell victim to the insidious attacks of an enemy that would do anything to bring down that kind of unity. Honestly, I don't care what happened. I don't want that group back. It ended for good reason. But I do want that reality back. THAT I can't let go of. I wanted to spend my life in that.
Every church before or sense has been ok for a time, and then turns miserable. Something just eats it up. The common denominator here is me. So I have tried to change myself and as hard as it has been, as unnatural as it has been, I have been making progress. But then on the heels of a visible, palpable "issue" at my church, there comes this book. And as critically as I have taken it, as much as I have checked references and confirmed his Greek and sniped his logical fallacies, there is a piercing dart of truth in it that echoes across all of what has been good in church in my life.
I feel like Lucy who has just seen Aslan go left when Peter (human authority) and the group (the majority) go right, saying she is a silly little girl. If I don't run after Him, will it be on my head? I know what I saw! I know what I want! Is this the path to it?
My heart beats at my ribs screaming, "YES, YES, YES, for the love of God THIS is it!" But I distrust me heart. It is easily enticed away by sirens who echo what it wants to hear. I have to go down this path, but I will go slowly. God forgive me for it. I want to abandon myself to the current that I know is true, but must test, must know it is the right stream first.
Please God, pull my foot from under me and I will go headlong n spite of myself!
I've had a problem with the dry knowledge-based church style. It is dead and changes very little of very few people. I've been involved in charismatic-tilted church and seen the personality cults, the blind devotion to 'signs & wonders' and even those who move across the country repeatedly, chasing the latest 'move'. I've been in the growth-based seeker-church and seen the blatant marketing principles applied and worked on people as if God were a Ad Exec. I'm sorry, when textbook marketing gets butts in your seats, you can't call that God.
I've even been involved in home churches that were cloisters of ungrounded, disenfranchized people who just thought they could do it as well as anyone else...who needs the regular stuff, we'll make our OWN church. And the converse where they think all who meet in buildings are apostate servants of the antichrist.
I've also been involved in radical dregs of the earth ministry church that goes in deep and helps people who couldn't even begin to set foot in traditional churches. And there I've seen the hurt create cliquishness and let's just face it, damaged people do damage. When your whole church is made up of people with serious issues, those issues will play out.
Not that all of these things were all bad. I've seen people's lives changed. I've seen transformations and real moves of God. But I tend to think these things are in spite of and not because of the church structure. Afterall, we're all flawed people. Can we really expect our organizations to not be flawed? This is the conclusion I'd come to and lived under for years.
But then, somewhere deep inside me, I've never been able to shake this small voice, almost too hard to hear, calling out for something more. Longing for a group to share my life with...not a life group or some other forced approximation, but a real connection. A community to live into and to raise my child in. A group like Bunyan's troop making their way along the road in the footsteps of Christian. A group where strong faith carries weaker, where helpfulness arises, where there is a palpable realness of spiritual unity. How do I know this exists?
It's in the New Testament. It's in Bunyan's work. I've even experienced it myself...no really, I have. Not for long, but there was a time and a group, several of whom I am still deeply connected to. For a time, we were a real community. Flawed, yes. But there was a real unity that is beyond human ability. It wasn't just a Sunday thing, or a semester study group. These people were brothers and sisters and we shared everything! Not like some hippie commune, but our lives were a part of each other entirely. Our worship, our problems, our challenges, sicknesses, jobs, marriages, social circles, were all intertwined in this group. It was Holy.
But then it ended. Perhaps we tried too hard. Perhaps we tried to do too much. Perhaps we fell victim to the insidious attacks of an enemy that would do anything to bring down that kind of unity. Honestly, I don't care what happened. I don't want that group back. It ended for good reason. But I do want that reality back. THAT I can't let go of. I wanted to spend my life in that.
Every church before or sense has been ok for a time, and then turns miserable. Something just eats it up. The common denominator here is me. So I have tried to change myself and as hard as it has been, as unnatural as it has been, I have been making progress. But then on the heels of a visible, palpable "issue" at my church, there comes this book. And as critically as I have taken it, as much as I have checked references and confirmed his Greek and sniped his logical fallacies, there is a piercing dart of truth in it that echoes across all of what has been good in church in my life.
I feel like Lucy who has just seen Aslan go left when Peter (human authority) and the group (the majority) go right, saying she is a silly little girl. If I don't run after Him, will it be on my head? I know what I saw! I know what I want! Is this the path to it?
My heart beats at my ribs screaming, "YES, YES, YES, for the love of God THIS is it!" But I distrust me heart. It is easily enticed away by sirens who echo what it wants to hear. I have to go down this path, but I will go slowly. God forgive me for it. I want to abandon myself to the current that I know is true, but must test, must know it is the right stream first.
Please God, pull my foot from under me and I will go headlong n spite of myself!
Monday, November 2, 2009
Impermanence
This is a concept I have never quite grasped. I get the idea on the surface. We die, things decay. We are not permanent. But what is? Love? No, we like to say that in romantic ways, but it isn't true. The truth is, I don't have anything in my experience that is permanent, none of us do. Therefore, I can't understand it really. But I can take clues from my experiences and infer what permanence must be like.
Still, even this inference has always alluded me...the images of perishable and imperishable, of type and archetype, or ideals, of illusions, they all fell flat in some way. But recently, I was rereading something my teacher, Jack, wrote and it fell into place.
Every bit of our existence is composed of atoms, of motion and energy and space. These things do not sit static. They are constantly turning over. We borrow them for a while and then they are released again. This matter is part of the whole of the universe. To bring it to a more human, observable level, my cells are constantly dividing, constantly being replaced. The building blocks for that replacement are received through food, which comes at the expense of some other creature's life. I injest its matter to make more of my own, which is then lost through skin replacement, blood cell recycling, waste, and replenished again through food and sun and complex relations with microscopic organisms and larger organisms. All of what is physically me at this moment will not be me in several years, it will be something else. And what will be me then is something else now. I am not solid. I am a constant flux of matter and energy over the duration of my existence. All things are.
Upon realizing this, it was like Neo seeing the matrix code actively transpiring through the world around him. He had seen through the illusion of it. I am not a constant thing. I have never been and will never be in this life. Nor is anything around me. All things are flux and change, even those that seem permanent, are merely constant reconstructions of the same structure moving through time. As Jack says, I am the curve of a waterfall. It seems solid, shaped, but is actually made up of a constant torrent of water droplets replacing the ones that just passed at such a speed that it seems to hold a shape and a place.
This is impermanence.
To follow the metaphor, something more solid, more permanent, can actually reach into a waterfall and pass through it...this is a new thought...so if Jesus gives us a glimpse into that permanent humanity after His resurrection: He passes through space and time. He appears in a locked room. Therefore His body must be more permanent than space and time. A less permanent object can't pass through a more permanent one. A vapor or thin paper is dispelled by the waterfall, only something more solid can pass through it! Wow!
Still, even this inference has always alluded me...the images of perishable and imperishable, of type and archetype, or ideals, of illusions, they all fell flat in some way. But recently, I was rereading something my teacher, Jack, wrote and it fell into place.
Every bit of our existence is composed of atoms, of motion and energy and space. These things do not sit static. They are constantly turning over. We borrow them for a while and then they are released again. This matter is part of the whole of the universe. To bring it to a more human, observable level, my cells are constantly dividing, constantly being replaced. The building blocks for that replacement are received through food, which comes at the expense of some other creature's life. I injest its matter to make more of my own, which is then lost through skin replacement, blood cell recycling, waste, and replenished again through food and sun and complex relations with microscopic organisms and larger organisms. All of what is physically me at this moment will not be me in several years, it will be something else. And what will be me then is something else now. I am not solid. I am a constant flux of matter and energy over the duration of my existence. All things are.
Upon realizing this, it was like Neo seeing the matrix code actively transpiring through the world around him. He had seen through the illusion of it. I am not a constant thing. I have never been and will never be in this life. Nor is anything around me. All things are flux and change, even those that seem permanent, are merely constant reconstructions of the same structure moving through time. As Jack says, I am the curve of a waterfall. It seems solid, shaped, but is actually made up of a constant torrent of water droplets replacing the ones that just passed at such a speed that it seems to hold a shape and a place.
This is impermanence.
To follow the metaphor, something more solid, more permanent, can actually reach into a waterfall and pass through it...this is a new thought...so if Jesus gives us a glimpse into that permanent humanity after His resurrection: He passes through space and time. He appears in a locked room. Therefore His body must be more permanent than space and time. A less permanent object can't pass through a more permanent one. A vapor or thin paper is dispelled by the waterfall, only something more solid can pass through it! Wow!
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