Alright, so I was walking back and forth to the bathroom, mulling over some random thoughts in my head that sprung from reading Chapter 8 in "Orthodoxy" by G.K. Chesterton. It is always scary to explain one's train of thought, but I would like to do so now:
First I was thinking about G. K.'s comment that for a split second, Christ became an Atheist when he proclaimed, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me." I thought that Atheism is the belief that we live in a world absent of God. If Christ were truly forsaken, then his existence was without truly one without God. Then I thought about how many people believe that hell is a place absent of God. Then I thought about how many also believe that the devil rules hell and tortures sinners, which I concluded was probably an idea passed on to Christianity from Greek/Roman mythology in which Hades rules the underworld. I thought that this is terribly inaccurate because hell is ruled by God and the devil and his demons are punished in hell. If anything I would say the angel Michael rules hell because he chained the devil. Then my brain took a leap and I was reminded of a Wheaton College astronomy professor that was asked to stop publishing papers because he theorized that perhaps there were dozens of universes, each created by God, and perhaps Christ had died on every one of them. This may seem crazy, but it almost seems prideful to think that our little world is the sole focus of the Father. I thought that there must be scriptures and drama and romance and adventure and pain and love on these worlds as well. I thought that perhaps the angels are really the souls saved from these other worlds, enlisted into service to help fight for the next world. I know, I really let my brain loose, but I didn't get much sleep last night because I was painting all night. I thought that perhaps I would be enlisted to serve in the next great adventure on the next world to be created by God. Then I thought, "No, it has already been revealed that the New Jerusalem is our ultimate destination." Then I considered, but what if I were to elect to be born again (physically, not spiritually) on the next world, in order to play out another grand drama of life, to wrestle with doubt and faith, hardship and wealth, grief and joy, only to find my savior once again. I thought, "I would do that, it would be fun; but I would want a guarantee that I would make it back to the New Jerusalem." I figured I would probably have my memories of the New Jerusalem wiped, only to have them all rush back to me once my life on the next world had come to an end. Not that I believe in reincarnation, but who am I to tell me what to think about. That led me to think about two movies, one that I saw very recently: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and that crazy movie about heaven starring Robin Williams. I thought, "my journey would kind of be like theirs. I wouldn't know it, but I would always find my way back to Christ just like they always found their way back to the soulmates." Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, "These stories ring so true to us because they are echoes of a Creator that we were meant to love. We will make our own decisions, and have great adventures of our own choosing, but we are drawn like a magnet to our Savior." Then I thought about Calvinism. This mystic fatalistic love is a perfect illustration of Calvinism; or, at least the Calvin Light that I tend to subscribe to (I beleive that ultimately God has to chose for whom he opens the gates of the New Jerusalem, but he can also set up whatever conditions he likes; further, I tend to believe that there are elements of both predestination and free will at work, kind of an 80/20 rule). We are at a loss to describe this type of love; it feels as if it was destined to be, that it was unavoidable, but it is apparent that it takes work and the daily discipline to chose to act in love. Somehow, we chose love; and somehow love chose us. This popular idea of romance is exactly the sentiment for how I feel about Christ. My life is filled with twists and turns, and some seemingly unimportant decision turns my life in a new direction that spares my soul from destruction and leads me into the arms of my waiting Savior. It seemed that one wrong turn could have meant my end, and somehow it seems that it couldn't have ended any other way.
Huh.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
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1 comment:
"mystic fatalistic love is a perfect illustration of Calvinism"
Fascinating.
Get some sleep, you hippie.
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