Spiritual Beings Having Human Experiences

Bad News and Good News

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I have some bad news-
we’re all going to die

just like old plants
old towns
and old shoes

but sometimes old becomes new

like a new year
to alleviate the sting
of every inevitable fall
with every regenerating spring

a new law
accounting for the dirt and infirmity
staring us curtly in the face
a new judge
abounding in merits and mercy and grace

a new king
that has no ambitions of land or power
his only ambition to save

a new strength
that has broken the bands of death
freed us from the bitterness of its bondage
and the injustice of its arrest

a new reunion
when, free from these mortal morbidities
spirit and body reconvene
reformed, forging a new path toward divinity

a new joy
from a conscience once paralyzed
when, as thieves on the cross
and all seemed lost
he promised paradise

a new gratitude
for the most important of all days
when dawn’s rich sunlight unveiled the Crucifixion’s poverty
a week after palm Sunday

a new understanding
of that hybrid human-heavenly womb
and the irony that fullness
could only come through an empty tomb

a new testament
of what we got when the only begotten
gave everything he had to give
I have some good news-
we’re all going to live

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What is Truth?

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What is truth?

Pontious Pilate famously inquired while looking truth directly in the eye.

He knew.

But when he heard them say
away with him, away
crucify him
we have no king but Caesar

he washed his hands of the matter
and did what pleased them

that trial has never ended
every one of us sits on the jury

we are all Pontious Pilate
conscious of the quiet but unrelenting
testament of the defendant
and the deafening resonance of the prosecution
contending with the same question
“what is truth?”

(I wonder)
who is it that would smile when we say that
that we are incurable cancers to the planet
who would inspire the kind of art that exclaims
that this is all there is
who would spawn such a take
that beauty is bygone
and goodness is a disgrace
who would be happy to have us embrace the nothingness of nihilism
who would slither in with such a worldview
who would be objectively jubilant to have us believe
that there is no objective truth and that
we should modify our morality to fit our behavior
instead of vice versa
I guess its vice versus virtue

we all know the truth
even though sometimes we wish we didn’t
sometimes we pretend there is no wrong
so that we can condone wrong
or convince other people to go wrong
so that we’re not alone in the wrong
but dawning the darkest of sunglasses
does not extinguish the light
right is right even if nobody is right
and wrong is wrong even if everybody is going along

maybe that’s why they convicted the innocent
and banished him to the cross
why they lashed and laughed and mocked
and chanted for assassination
truth can be relative if God is recanted from the equation
with no higher being to set the standard for the people
anyone can call evil good, and good evil
there’s no infraction a rationale can’t be rationed out for
no principle they can’t have it out for

the silence is deafening when you mute the immutable
Nietzsche noticed this and noted it with caution
see, the preachers of the post-modern doctrine
are not the first to allege that God is dead
but there’s still nowhere to go after the funeral
in this post-modern concoction
“who will wipe the blood from our garments
what water is holy enough to cleanse us
what festivals of atonement shall we attend
what sacred games shall we invent”
pray tell

how do we declare rape reprehensible
if it’s just one set of molecules knocking into another set that’s less able to defend itself
or slavery disdainful if it’s just an array of atoms arranged in chain-link fashion that happened to trap another
or the iniquity of murder if it’s just one clump of cells determining that another clump of cells doesn’t deserve the dignity

who will wipe the blood from our consciouses
well, if we consecrate ourselves gods and goddesses
then instead of climbing a mountain fo find truth
we can just drag the mountain to us
and demand that its majestic peaks crumble into dust
never mind the civilizations that we might bumble or crush

but
jumping out of 40 story buildings because gravity is a social construct
doesn’t change the nature of the pavement
these shattered anatomies are shouting
that something’s amiss

God forgive this audacity
God forgive us for thinking that we can never do anything that warrants forgiveness

God forbid this navel-gazing
I’m not saying it’s always easy to look up
to discover
but I can say this
we can search for truth
or we can search for comfort
only one of those two will bring the other

my truth is what makes me feel good
THE truth is what makes me do good

my truth will let me be
THE truth will let me become

my truth might get me through the day
THE truth will get me through this whole life
and beyond

my truth will waver, and change
THE truth will not be shaken by my inclinations or your opinion
it cannot be lobbied, or slackened by sacrilege
it will not falter, and will never be altered by activists

my truth will reveal my entitlements
THE truth will heal, enliven, and enlighten when
darkness swarms
when distortion becomes the norm
when the obvious becomes too dangerous to speak of
we must never underestimate the effects
because when truth is the first casualty of an ideology
freedom will always be the next

truth, beauty, and goodness are true, beautiful, and good
and I shouldn’t have to say so

we are not biohazards
this is not all there is
truth is not what those regarded as important tell us to believe
or groupthink that the mob has compelled us to believe

we do not need to pay the toll that they would take
rape and slavery and murder are wrong
not because of protons or electrons
but because souls are at stake

there’s nothing more important than
discerning the difference
between what truth isn’t
and what it is
because when you have no king but Ceasar
you have no truth but his

ladies and gentlemen of the jury
find courage
do not wash your hands of the responsibility
standing up for truth is worth it
even if you’re persecuted for trying to preserve it

fear not what men may say or do
fear not what we were made to be
because when you know the truth
the truth shall make you free

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For Anyone that Hasn’t Seen an Angel

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this is for anyone that hasn’t seen an angel
or a burning bush
or an empty tomb
for anyone that never got to touch the wounds

for anyone who was never struck down on the road to Damascus
but is struck now by this road and its vastness

for anyone searching for wholeness in the ashes of brokenness

I read a blog post once where an atheist claimed that it’s the believer’s job to prove that God exists
as if God would create a world and proliferate a gospel
thoroughly and utterly based on faith
and then make that faith meaningless by showing His face
in the sky or something

and I thought why?
why do we always ask to be shown a sign
why should we live life like anxious bystanders
always asking for a reason to join the dance
instead of having the time of our lives

why do they try to make me doubt it
they can’t prove love
but they keep making a lot of songs about it

you know who only believes in what they already know?
robots
I am not a zero, or a one
I am infinity
I’m thankful for possibility
thankful for the opportunity to learn
how to see things that aren’t in the latest edition of a textbook
and that won’t be erased in the next one
for the wonder that moves me
to do things I might not otherwise do
to become what I might not otherwise become

to be on a road that I’m convinced is longer than my patience
to go and see if my principles are stronger than my temptations

or else
what would be the purpose
would it even be worth it
if there were no foggy intersections to disentangle
no uncharted adventures
no precarious unknowns to step out into
it’s scary but those stones that form under our feet
are the pedestals of testimony
a test that only could have been passed through faith
a testament to the test that we’re meant to take

God is not the one meant to be proven here

we are witnesses to wisdom
testifiers of truth
orators of the grandest of glory
doubters will never know the full story
and they don’t want to

I’m not saying I never have doubts
but I’ve found that when I doubt my doubts
when I use doubts as opportunities for building
instead of catalysts for destruction
is when the mountains start wilting
and as the light bends over the horizon
my soul arises from asylum
my eyes are widened, enlightenment arrives
and I receive the utmost instruction

the beautiful thing is
no matter how much I come to know
God is still bigger than that
which means there’s always room to grow more

I’m happy with the evidence of things not seen
and the substance of what I hope for
because this journey is everything I was molded for

for everyone searching for wholeness in the ashes of brokenness
when everything else has failed
when it feels like faith is all we got left
maybe that’s because faith is all we got right
and if we got that
we’re gonna be alright

I guess what I’m trying to say is
thank you
thank you for all the angels without wings
thank you for all the times you burned bushes in my chest
with a flame so powerful
that I felt like I could sprout wings
thank you for my savior that busted the tomb
for gathering up all my sins
and repealing them
thank you for touching my wounds
and healing them

thank you for not showing me your face in the sky
thank you for showing your face in my life

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The Meaning of Life

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The last television series I watched was LOST, which aired its season finale way back in 2010. It was a remarkably well-produced sci-fi action drama about plane crash survivors on a mysterious island, most well-known for its cryptic mythology and puzzling paradoxes. The characters were probed by smoke monsters, infiltrated by hostile inhabitants, and swept up in supernatural synchronicities.

The island was rife with ruins, mystic healing powers, and electromagnetic energy that facilitated time travel and spatial disposition. A specific sequence of numbers frequently appeared, implying some sort of consequential code that would unlock understanding and make it all make sense.

However, as the series began to draw to a close, the gap between questions and answers continued to widen. And for all of its mind-bending plot twists and compelling cliffhangers, it became increasingly apparent that in the end, the audience would be ones left hanging.

I wanted resolution. I wanted to know how all these pieces of the puzzle fit together. In short, I wanted it all to mean something.

When it didn’t, it left me feeling empty and deceived.

I’ve since wondered why this broken promise of meaning bothered me so much. TV shows aren’t lawfully required to explain themselves. Holding my attention for six years – 121 episodes, was perhaps proof that they upheld their end of the bargain between entertainment producer and entertained consumer.

But the question of meaning has haunted humans since they’ve been able to formulate thoughts. You can search for the meaning of life on the internet and go down thousands of rabbit holes. Most of the names we know from history, if not conquerors, are philosophers. Countless thinkers have put pen to paper, or parchment, or papyrus, pondering and positing why we’re here and what we should do while we’re here.

It would seem that we are wired for meaning. We light up when we are connected to something meaningful. But when that meaning is taken away, like when a battery is taken out of an electrical circuit, or when we break the connection somehow, our light fades. We become dim and dark and lonely.

LOST did a masterful job wiring us up. They spun a splendid web of connections, but ultimately left us without a battery to power the circuit.

The modern philosophies of man do the same. We are often flat-out told that there is no grand meaning to life. There never was. We’re just temporarily animated stardust, so make up whatever meaning you need to get you through the day. Change it if necessary. There’s no such thing as objective truth or meaning that we can all ascribe to.

Even the tried and true sources of meaning that we’ve esteemed in the past are facing extinction. Young people are admonished:
You’re crazy to believe in God. Or to believe in anything. Or commit to anything. Your country is evil. Your past is deplorable. Marriage and children are negligible at best, and a great burden at worst. Cradles and kitchens are prisons. There’s nothing special about humans. In fact, we’re biohazards. We’re cancers to the planet.

It’s no wonder we are dark and lonely. No wonder that anxiety and suicide are rising. It’s no wonder that we’re likely the most depressed generation ever, even though we live in the time of most abundance. We are starving to death, with our stomachs full. Endlessly fed, but never nourished.

We are vintage Ferraris
sidled up to electronic charging stations
gasping for fuel

Sensing this hunger and lack of connection to meaning, ideologues will come along and offer hacks to short-circuit or bypass the problem. Those regarded as important and influential will extol the choice certainties of political party, popular culture, and identity groups. And they’ll do so using undeniable slogans.

But these are short-circuits and long cons. When current gathers together and travels along an unintended path in a circuit, the result is always explosions and fire. And by the time the forgery is exposed, the engineers are long gone.

So how do we find real, lasting meaning that won’t leave us deceived and charred in the end?

First, we should define what meaning is. For something to be meaningful, it has to have a purpose, and it has to have significance. A hammer’s purpose is to pound nails, but it probably doesn’t have much significance. A family heirloom has significance, but probably not much purpose. But we’re not interested in material items here. How can a person have purpose? How can a person have significance?

We know it’s not enough to simply exist. Even if housed and fed and kept safe, it’s not enough for us. We have to feel like we’re making a difference to someone or to some greater good beyond ourselves.

One way to do that is to work. Having someone else rely on us to get a job done gives us purpose. Having someone else pay us to do something makes us feel valued. We can also see this as contributing to society. Anyone who’s ever been part of settling a new town or building a hospital or starting a non-profit knows that everyone involved has to do their part. They have to work together to make something. There’s purpose in the end result, but everyone has found purpose in the work required to get there. And they’ve most likely learned a great deal along the way.

In times past, we’ve not had much choice but to work. If we didn’t work, we didn’t eat. It was pretty simple. Purpose found us before we could sit complacently enough to contemplate it.

Today, resting in the belly of technology there seems to be an aversion to work. Especially work that requires actual “work”. We see labor as beneath us and leave as much of it as we can to those we feel somehow superior to. But as I see the atrophy of dying towns across the country where work has become unavailable, I can’t help but also see the atrophy of our souls when we unavail ourselves to work.

We can also find purpose in family and friendship. In taking care of other people. In taking on responsibility, which by definition, gives us purpose, because we are responsible for someone else.

But there’s more. Shouldering responsibility also begets love. Everyone yearns to be loved in a real and lasting way, but that can only happen when someone else looks outside of themselves, and takes the formidable but fruitful next step – which is to give up part of themselves. To sacrifice.

Just like we’ve become averse to work, I think we’ve become averse to sacrifice. This generation hasn’t had to fight any major wars. We have our food brought to our doors. Generations before sacrificed for their posterity. Now, we tend more toward sacrificing our posterity for ourselves. Many have been fooled into believing that their life outcomes will be measured by their life incomes, only to find themselves completely broke in the end. Another short-circuit. Another long con.

This concept of sacrifice is crucial. It deserves a deeper look.

Jordan Peterson talks about this in his book “12 Rules for Life”, specifically in the chapter aptly titled “Do what is meaningful, not what is expedient”. He talks about how humans have learned to share with each other. In an ancient context, one tribe shares meat from a successful hunt with another tribe, making a deal that the favor will be returned at a future date, which is mutually beneficial to both tribes. But we’ve also learned that we can obtain something better for ourselves in the future by giving up something of value in the present. We’ve learned how to not eat all of our food at once. Or to not spend all of our money at once. It’s tempting, when you get money, to just buy whatever you can. But it’s better to save what you can, to put it in some kind of account that will earn more money for you in the future. So in a sense we’ve learned how to make a deal with our future selves.

This deal can only happen by sacrificing. By giving up something expedient for something more lasting – more meaningful. For our future selves, or our present family, our friends, our neighbors, or even strangers.

It’s not easy. Admittedly I’m not great at this. By default I’m inwardly focused. But I continue to find that when I step outside of myself, and sacrifice, I feel better. I’m able to help others feel better. I’m more connected. Life has more meaning.

I think of mothers. The sacrifice of bearing children, nurturing them, helping them grow and learn, helping them through all their pain and sorrows, celebrating their victories with them, and then, sacrificing them to the world. But they’ve participated in the most divine endeavor possible as humans – the creation and sustaining of another life. They’ve chosen not to do what is expedient, and instead, by giving up part of themselves they’ve connected their soul to another in the most meaningful way possible.

I think of Mary’s sacrifice. How she had to endure in excruciating silence as her son turned the world’s greatest tragedy into its greatest triumph.

I think of Christ’s own sacrifice. How it would have been far more expedient for him to pass the cup. Far more expedient to succumb to the natural human desire to avoid pain and suffering. A physical, spiritual, and emotional suffering that cut so deep that it pierced eternity. The ultimate sacrifice.

From Abel to Abraham, Peter to Paul, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more prevalent concept in scripture than sacrifice and its inseparable companion – service.

I have to think there’s a reason for this. I don’t think it a coincidence that those that think of themselves the least are the most content, the most fulfilled.

But what if this concept goes even further? What if this life is about sacrificing and sharing with our future life, beyond the grave? What if the deals we make with ourselves are not just of temporal benefit, but spiritual?

After all, if heaven has the best interest rates
laying up our treasures there
would rate as our best interest

What if these afflictions are momentary
and at the end of this chapter of the story
we find that these sacrifices have worked for us
a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory?

I wonder if the apostle Paul and the psychologist Peterson would agree
that doing what is expedient is being carnally minded
and doing what is meaningful is being spiritually minded
and that only the latter can bring life and peace

This brings me to the other important part of meaning – significance. If the atheists are correct, even the grandest of man’s purposes will meet their expiration date. We will perish. Our families will perish. Our work and our sacrifices will perish. Our organizations will perish. Our good deeds and great novels will perish. The Earth itself will perish when the Sun gets hungry enough. Why not turn to nihilism if this is all for naught?

History is twisted and incomplete. But one thing we seem to agree on is that as far back as we can see our ancestors, we can see that they’ve had some sense of a Being greater than themselves. One could argue that humans have always made up gods to give significance to their lives. I think it at least as likely that God made humans with an intuition of His significance.

What if the post-modernists are wrong? What if there really is a Grand Narrative, and we’ve known it all along?

If we are in fact offspring of God – if the promise of eternal life spoken of by Jesus of Nazareth is true, then all of our purposes are given eternal life too. What we do actually matters.

Our causes matter. Our humanity matters. Our families matter. What happens in cradles and kitchens turns out to be infinitely more important than what happens in boardrooms and congresses. All of our efforts spent in searching for truth, learning to control our impulses, and becoming attentive to the plight of others is not perishable, but permanent.

Not only that, being children of God gives us an identity. Not one of the earthly identities that we assign ourselves that can often be divisive, exclusionary, and contradictory, but a divine identity that is uniting, inclusive, and complete. An identity that will always encourage us to build rather than destroy. To look upward rather than downward. To do good, rather than just mean well.

Not only does it change how we see ourselves, it changes how we see each other. Our brothers and sisters become vistas to be explored rather than wastelands to be ignored. We’re more implored to see the good in people. To see them how God sees them. And to see each other as equals.

This divine doctrine was revolutionary when it was introduced to a world that had only known stratified humanism. It shattered all previously well-accepted maxims and elevated all souls to the maximum – equally magnificent before God. It rendered caste systems and slavery and sultans as paltry products of vain imaginations. We forget that those were norms, not exceptions. To grasp the significance of this decree is to grasp the significance of our being.

I would argue that the main purpose of Jesus’s ministry was to show us how significant we are. To invite us to see ourselves in the Grand Narrative. To step into it, and live it. Not just to think of it as a possible philosophy that explains our longing of belonging.

When He fed the multitudes with the 2 fish and 5 loaves, he wasn’t just feeding the hungry droves. He was showing that the sustenance he provides is bountiful and limitless. That when we discover this true meaning, it will multiply. He is the life-giving battery in our circuits – if we stay connected to Him the light within us will grow brighter and brighter. We can finally be fulfilled and settled and satisfied.

When he washed the feet of his disciples, he was exemplifying sacrifice and service. Saying, I know it may not look like it, but this is the way to happiness and purpose. Live as I’ve shown you and you will no longer gasp for fuel.

As I mentioned in a previous episode, there’s the simple utility of a piano as the physical sum of its mechanical parts, or as a collection of atoms stuck together in certain ways. But the real purpose of a piano isn’t revealed until a talented pianist comes along and plays it. It comes to life and becomes far more than the sum of its parts.

Whether one believes in God or not, living life as though we are far more than the sum of our parts, and acting as though there’s meaning above and outside of our own personal desires and flaws results in a significantly higher quality of life than could be achieved even if we were 100% efficient at living only for ourselves.

So, what is the meaning of life?

To answer that, we must first listen to the voice that tells that is there IS meaning to this life. The fact that meaning is so important to us, the fact that we keep asking this question should tell us something.

We were created to seek meaning. At the same time, the breadth of our knowledge is humbly incomplete. We can’t know everything, but to this beautifully perplexing position we find ourselves in, awe and wonder are the appropriate responses. We should lean into them.

We should seek purpose. Rather than abandoning the timeworn and tested tenets of faith, family, work, and sacrifice, we need to rekindle them. Our civilization may be modern, but our condition is ancient, and perpetual.

We should seek to grasp our significance, and fathom whatever we can from where we currently stand. Even if the waters we navigate are unsettled, persistently peering out over them is certainly the best way to discover the promised land.

As we surrender the self-centered story and enter the grand narrative of glory, our quest for meaning will finally come into focus. Purpose, significance, and identity will be revealed.

These transcendent revelations will make four-toed statues and time traveling islands seem like child’s play. We will not be shipwrecked, or plane-crashed, but brought home and made complete. Joy will abound.

For we will not be LOST, but found.

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What Child is This?

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what world is this
where beasts and evil roam
where moth corrupt
and we walk alone
through crowds gone mad
as vagrants scorned
where drought and dread and dust doth blow
and it just doesn’t feel… like home

we press on through the wretchedness
across the valley of the shadow of death and its
all we can manage
to slosh through the sickness
and crawl through calamity
we are all witness to the fall
what humanity is this
that the sky would forsake with such (fury in) hues of hot gold
these bodies baking and burning
shaking and swerving
as we make this journey in shoes with lost soles
behold

what oasis is this
where we can kneel and taste
of water so pure
and partake of bread
that we will never hunger
and find comfort in our salvation made sure

what truth is this
that would come forth to relieve us
amidst all that would deceive us
what warrior is this
that came through the gallows
victorious
against all that would defeat us

what light is this
so bright and glorious
what commandment is this?
love God and my neighbor
but also my enemies that curse me
what medicine is this
that purges me of my own pestilence
that nourishes me in my negligence
that encourages me in adversity
and emerges in emergency
and furnishes me with breath in my breathlessness
whose death is my deathlessness
and whose rise is my righteousness
what child, what child, what child is this

in a world whose heart would harden us
where we would become lost
in the middle and the margins of
what savior is this
so sweet and marvelous
who would believe from the start and
agree to embark for us
who would grieve at how hard it was
but still kneel and (soak) the scars for us
whose pleading would pardon us
whose bleeding in the garden would
be the healing of every broken part of us

hail, hail for the Word made flesh
whose sentence cemented us in the story
and whose paragraphs
would be the parallax that let heaven’s glory merge with our quest
for the verve in our chest
for eternity’s best
they impaled with nails
and pierced with spears
for the break in the veil
we cheer Him with tears
we’re certainly blessed
for no matter what the world thinks might be king
this, THIS is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
praise be to the babe
the son of Mary
the son of God
that sacred fateful morn
joy, joy for Christ was born
and we are saved

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The Eye of the Thunderstorms

I need three hands to count how many years I lived in California. I only need one to count how many thunderstorms I experienced while I was there.

The other night I was out for a walk on an empty Texas road. In every direction there were dark skies and frantic streaks of lightning. Thunder grumbled ominously off in the distance.

But where I was walking, it was calm. I could see stars above me. There was no commotion, no wind, no rain.

If we named the storms of 2020 like they do hurricanes, we’d have exhausted the alphabet many times over. I don’t need to list them. They’re stamped into our skin like a reckless night at a tattoo parlor.

Sometimes, the smoke from the fires is so thick that it’s as if the sun slept through its morning alarm and just said “forget it”. And we go whole days
with no light.

But on that quiet road I remembered.

About two thousand years ago there was a whole night
with no darkness.

That stuck with me, because I’ve been searching for light
in what seems to be only darkness.

I’ve been searching for truce
in what feels like a war of the worlds.

I’ve been searching for truth
in a raucous cacophony of ideologies, so many to choose from.

I’ve been searching for a way, like an x-ray
to see through the confusion.

But on that quiet road I remembered.

What better way to find the truth
than through God’s spoken word?

What better way to find light
than by He who created it?

I can’t always find the why of the storms
but I’m thankful
that I can always find the eye.

The calm. The comfort.
The correctness.

Even with the all hardship, harshness,
and thunder in all directions
if we follow Him
we will not walk in darkness.

He didn’t say when, or even if
these tempests would cease
but that He would walk with us
and in Him, we could still find peace.

On that quiet road
He remembered me.

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