When God Laughs, So Should We

It is unbecoming for Christians to get antsy and anxious over conspiracies to dethrone the Lord of the Universe.

Conspiracy Spotter: OMG did YOU see this, Lord?

Ex-Lord of the Universe: Crikey, what can I do NOW? All my plans for the future are being foiled!

Uhhhh, no. Psalm 2 tells us that when God sees the conspirators and their machinations, He laughs. Talk about evidence of omnipotence: when you are pointing the best ya’ got at Him and He bursts out laughing ... O man, you’re toast.

Sadly, Conspiracy Aficionados (CA) not only grimace and fret over every perceived sneak-attack on the Almighty and His plans, they spread their anxiety like a disease to all who listen to them.

CA: What? You aren’t angry and anxious like me? Here, read this book, listen to this radio program, watch this guy on TV, and go to this web site. Your eyes will be opened!  

Opened to what, exactly? That God is no longer … God? That you have discovered something He has overlooked? That the earth is no longer the Lord’s? That ultimately hate will prevail over love? That a cabal in DC has rendered the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ meaningless?

Yes, nations conspire, peoples plot, and rulers rise up and band together against God and His rule. Their efforts, however, are only so much grasping after wind. The One enthroned in heaven laughs and scoffs, and then reminds us all that there is only one King and one unshakeable kingdom.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014

The Morality Police v Jesus

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.  St. John

So. There were these teachers of the law along with some Pharisees who were getting fed up with Jesus and how the people were hanging on His every word. Everything about Him was love, love, love, which was making them look bad, because they had none. As they had just caught a woman in the act of adultery, they took the opportunity to trap and expose Him as an antinomian: a man who was actually against God’s Law and, therefore, not sent from God. The Morality Police thought they could set Christ up for a fall. It’s not going to end the way they had envisioned.

“Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?”

Jesus, apparently ignoring them, stoops down and begins writing in the dirt. The self-appointed Sherriff’s of the Kingdom are thinking they’ve got Him. “Answer the question!”

“Okay. Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”

And He goes back to writing in the dirt.

At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.

We have no idea what He wrote but it clearly hit them in the sol plexus of their consciences. I wonder if it was their offenses: maybe some that, under OT law, deserved stoning?

When you remain blind to your own offenses, it’s easy to carry around stones just looking for some sinner to whack upside the head. Self-righteous people are notorious for lacking self-awareness, for the hubris of behaving as if their souls are stainless, and for ignoring the hell their own behavior has unleashed on others.

Jesus wasn’t going to have anything to do with such a lynch mob.

After the yahoos scurried away, He was left alone with the woman. Standing up, He then asks, “Where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?” She replies, “No one, sir.”

 “Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

People already know they are condemned. What they don’t know is that God has provided them with forgiveness and freedom in Christ.  

In my youth, unlike Jesus, I would have made the Pharisees eat the rocks. But not Him: He simply and gently provided a mirror with which they could see their own sorry souls. And what of the woman: at the very least, she deserved a strong rebuke, didn’t she? But there was no sermon about the wrath of God on sin, no monologue on the wickedness of her adultery. He didn’t even wait for “signs of repentance” before letting her know that He didn’t condemn her but He did want her to stop living this way.

St Paul wrote that, when we see someone who has fallen and can’t get up, we are to seek to restore the person, gently. (Galatians 6.1-5) This is assuming their lives are any of our business. When people are down and out, we are not to throw rocks at them, kick them while they’re down, or condemn them. As with Christ, we are not sent out into the world to condemn people, but to manifest God’s love for them by laying down our lives, so as to see them restored.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014

When The Obstacle Is The Path

The Quest We jump, we throw ourselves in: aaaaaand we’re off and running toward the goal of becoming whom we were created to be and doing what we were made to do in the world. Somewhere along the line, however, we aren’t getting anywhere. Everyday we are faced with the same issues: we’re doubtful, discouraged, depressed, despondent: whatever. We are at a stand still.

We decide the obstacle on our path is with the people with whom we have surrounded ourselves. Maybe it’s the church/ community/ friends, the leaders, or the job that is keeping us from moving out and moving on. “Come on. It can’t be me.” We criticize and castigate, we condemn and we depart, seeking a more faithful people or a more advantageous atmosphere for “becoming” and “doing.” In no time at all, we are doubtful, discouraged, depressed, despondent: whatever.

From here, we will make one of two decisions:

1)    The Quest is nonsense, idiotic, bogus;

2)    Stay put

Choosing Door Number Two, we accept who we are, where we are, and what we are. (This doesn’t necessarily mean we approve.) We live our lives, we go about our work, we seek to love God, others, and self; we eat, we pray, we go to bed. Tomorrow, we rinse and repeat. And in the forgetting of getting on down the path, we actually end up getting somewhere.

Sometimes getting from Here to Here is exactly what we need to be doing.

Sometimes the drive for making progress is filled with pride and vanity.

Sometimes we idealize The Path, and “progress” becomes an idol that beats the living daylights out of us.

Sometimes it is not growth we are after but escaping from dealing with the consequences of our past failures.

Sometimes staying put is the only way to move forward.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2013

Life as a Fiary Tale II

Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious … I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it. –St John, Revelation 2.17

“I don’t know my name.”

He slaps his knee and bursts out laughing. “Of course, not! None of us do. O, we have names that can be useful in this world, but they are like scaffolding the King uses while He is building the real you. Most people mistake the scaffolding for the building.”

“King? What King?”

When he answers me, his voice sounds like an echo from another world. “The King who has been invading your head and heart all these years, of course! Where do you think the visions and voices are coming from? What you are calling ‘torment’ is actually the wooing of the King. It only feels like torment because of the contours of your heart.”

“I want to meet Him.” (I wonder if I should have formulated my reply as a question.)  

“He wants to meet you infinitely more. Then you still intend to jump?”

“Yes.” Hearing myself, I sound far more confident than I feel.

“When you do, you will land on a path at the bottom of a mountain. You will know you have found the right path when you see a raging fire.”

“Well that explains all the paintings of mountains being consumed by fires. They’re metaphors.”

The counselor squints his eyes while scanning the paintings. I can tell that he is recalling the fires he walked through. “Metaphor? Yes. No. There will be days where you wish the fire were only a literal one. Whatever you do, don’t run away. There is no way around it—if you want to meet the King. But know this. If you will keep choosing to press forward in pursuit of the Name Giving King, keep embracing the fire, then it will gradually begin blazing inside your soul.”

“Is there any other path?” I was being facetious. He was not amused.

“Don’t ask questions for which you already have the answer. The fire is necessary -- it is burning away all that is not the self the King created you to become. Make no mistake: this path is perilous. Sometimes the fire will take the shape of friends offering you solace and an easier way up the mountain. Their paths only lead to cul-de-sacs. Sometimes it will appear as another king offering you magnificent treasures, if you will leave your path and serve in his realm. It’s different for each of us. In my case, I was almost felled by the fire taking the shape of people who wanted me to rule over and care for them. In my vanity, I succumbed. It took me years to escape that dark place.”

I am now certifiably terrified. “How will I do this? How will I know the difference between a ruse and a gift from the true King?”

Handing me a book, “This contains the history of many of those who have set out, as you are, to meet Him. There are also songs you will want to sing, poetry you will find comforting when reciting and, best of all, there are the memoirs of the King’s closest Princes who knew Him well when he walked among us two thousand years ago. If you will learn from the book, adhere to the wisdom it offers, your ability to keep going in the right direction by making the wisest choices will increase. Most importantly, as you continue to read this book, you will get to know the King you are seeking.”

“One last thing: wherever you find yourself, the King hears your heart. Talk to him, question him, ask for what you need, and call to him for help. He will always hear you, always be there for you in ways that you need most. But beware: He doesn’t count time, as we do. He’s notorious for being late, while always on time.”

I ask him about my amnesia. “When will it pass?”

“Don’t be in a hurry. The amnesia is what motivates us. Yes, you will get insights here and there as to whom you are becoming and what you are here to do. The thing you want to hold on to most of all is meeting the King face to face, when He will give you a white stone with a new name written on it, a secret name known only to you.”

Lost in thought, I am startled when I see a cup about two inches from my face. “Drink this. It will dissolve your fears and strengthen your heart.”

As I am drinking, I begin falling through the couch, the building, the foundation, the earth, further and further down, into another world.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014

Life as a Fairy Tale

Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious … I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it. –St John, Revelation 2.17

Well, isn’t that special. My friends organized an intervention, demanding I go for counseling. I shouldn’t have been shocked. You can’t keep telling people you never feel like you fit in, that you are tormented by hearing voices telling you there is another self that you need to become, and that sometimes you can almost see into another world, a parallel universe, without raising a few eyebrows. And now here I am about to step inside a counselor’s office.

When I step inside the office I can’t help but wonder if he is the one with no oars in the water. He looks like Jack Elam, only his eyes are even crazier. His desk is cluttered with parchments that appear to be maps and the walls are covered with paintings of mountains being engulfed in flames. When I go to sit down on the couch he is pointing toward, I have to shove dozens of old books out of the way.

Looking at the maps, I ask him if any have written on them, “Here be monsters.”

“You know about the monsters. Good.”

I look for a knowing twinkle in his eye that says, “I am pulling your leg,” but it isn’t there. His demeanor is intensely earnest and utterly genuine. I want to laugh but don’t. And then I feel like a bell has been rung in my heart. At last: a fellow psycho.

I am expecting a litany of questions that will help in his diagnosis. He takes a different tack.

“You are standing on the edge of a precipice. You can turn back, deny the reality of the visions and voices that are tormenting you, and take your place with what society calls normal and sane. Or you can jump, throwing yourself into the quest that your heart has been begging you to embark upon. Choose normalcy and you will need to find another counselor. Choose to throw yourself in and I will do what I can to help you find your way.”

My first thought is of my friends and how they are expecting me to come back looking and sounding like them. But the second thought is more powerful. What if this is my last shot at finding the door at the back of a wardrobe? I’m going with Lucy.

 “All my life I have been tormented by this angst. I have tried to be normal. I threw myself into work, hoping the flurry of activity would drown out the voices. I have joined groups and crowds seeking to look like everyone else, but the feelings of not belonging were only exacerbated. I have tried every alternative path I have seen, but the one right in front of me is always – right in front of me. I have to do this. I have to jump. There is no other way for me. One way or the other, I have to see where jumping will lead me.”

“Good. Now. Who are you,” he asks.

Dumbfounded, I sit there with my mouth agape. I draw a blank. “What’s happening to me?”

“Okay. What is your name?”

I try to answer him. It’s on the tip of my tongue. My mind races ...

“I don’t know.”

(To be continued…)

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014

Fairy Tales and Mental Health

The madman is not the man who has lost his reason. The madman is the man who has lost everything except his reason. –GK Chesterton

People who see Fairy Tales as a means for escaping “reality” have never read one, or, if they have, didn’t understand what they were being shown. For example, wicked witches, rulers, and invisible forces are encountered in most every chapter, as are their antidotes (ethical behavior), counterparts (brave Knights), and destroyers (Christ figures). In my own experience, I have learned far more about the nature of evil and the power of goodness from such stories than from many of the sermons I have heard over my lifetime. Far from producing in the reader various forms of neurosis or psychosis, the truth is, as Chesterton states: “The fairy-tale is full of mental health.”

Consider the realities of Faith, Hope, and Love, as demonstrated in Fairy Tales.

Faith I have heard countless parents say that they would never permit their children to read Fairy Tales as such stories embed fears that would haunt the child for years to come. Fairy Tales, however, do not introduce the reader to previously unknown horrors. All children are fairly sure there are terrible creatures in their closets and under their beds. What Fairy Tales do for us is impart a belief that there are more powerful forces in the world than evil.

In Tremendous Trifles, GK Chesterton writes, “Exactly what the fairy-tale does is this: it accustoms him by a series of clear pictures to the idea that these limitless terrors have a limit, that these shapeless enemies have enemies, that these infinite enemies of man have enemies in the knights of God, that there is something in the universe more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear.”

Fairy Tales elicit faith in the face of terrible ordeals. This faith, however, is not rooted in this world but in another. Many of the characters we meet here suffer temporal defeats and die, yet they die with faith that evil will not have the final word on Creation or mankind. 

Hope In most all Fairy Tales, there is the miraculous turn of events. Where there had been failure and sorrow there is now victory and joy. In words coined by Tolkien, “dyscatastrophy” becomes “eucatastrophe.”

“The consolation of fairy-stories, the joy of the happy ending: or more correctly of the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous ‘turn’ (for there is no true end to any fairy-tale): this joy, which is one of the things which fairy-stories can produce supremely well, is not essentially 'escapist', nor 'fugitive'. In its fairy-tale—or otherworld—setting, it is a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur. It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe, of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief.” (On Fairy-Stories)

As we read of the hero or heroine’s battles, we experience their fear and dread. And then, just before the Final and Great Catastrophe occurs, “a ‘turn’ comes, a catch of the breath, a lifting of the heart,” (Tolkien) There is always hope, both in this life and in the one to come.

Love Fairy Tales display the reality that true love is transformative. Kiss the frog and he will turn into a handsome Prince. Kiss Snow White and she will cast off the evil Queen’s enchantment and awaken. Lay down your life for love’s sake and the land that had been cursed, whereby it is “always winter but never Christmas,” and Narnia is delivered. Once love does all that love will do … “And they lived happily ever after.”

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014

The Spiritual Nature of True Love

In George MacDonald’s Phantastes *, the central theme of Anodos’ journey is his heart: more specifically, the nature of true love. Throughout his adventure, he encounters women with whom he fancies himself being in love. Some of his attractions are merely physical, some end with discovering the woman is evil, and some are obsessions. In all of these experiences, there lies within Andodos’ heart a self-centeredness that is the antithesis of love. Love is all about him: his feelings, his needs, and his projections upon the beloved.

At one point in his journey Anodos enters a house with a great library where he discovers books that, upon reading, pull him inside the story where he experiences first hand what the protagonist is experiencing. One such story is about a man named Cosmo. In this story, Cosmo finds a mirror; in this mirror he espies a woman with whom he falls in love. Cosmo is mesmerized. Does she see me? How can I get her to pay attention to me? How do I meet her and let her know of my love? He is obsessed with her.

Finally being able to communicate with the lady, he tells her of his love and asks if she might feel the same. As she is bewildered by her predicament, she replies that she cannot know as long as she is under an enchantment.

“Cosmo, if thou lovest me, set me free, even from thyself: break the mirror.”

A fierce struggle raged in his heart. “To break the mirror would be to destroy his very life….Not yet pure in love, he hesitated.”

“With a wail of sorrow, the lady rose to her feet. ‘Ah! he loves me not; he loves me not even as I love him; and alas! I care more for his love than even for the freedom I ask.’”

Upon investigation, he learns that the lady is a princess who has fallen deathly ill. Lying abed, she is “a form more like marble than a living woman.” What he is seeing in the mirror is an apparition. As he seeks to discover how to free the woman, his love for her is converted from being a self-centered obsession into a love that transcends his self. All he cares for now is her welfare.

Cosmo finally breaks the mirror. The princess opens her eyes and calls out his name, and then runs to find him. Seeing him, she proclaims, “I am free—and thy servant forever.” But Cosmo has been mortally wounded by a shard of glass.

For Anodos, experiencing the story of Cosmo and the lady in the mirror leads to the transformation of his heart so that, at the very end of his journey, before returning to his own world, he has learned the spiritual nature of true love:

“It is by loving, and not by being loved, that one can come nearest the soul of another; yea, that, where two love, it is the loving of each other, and not the being beloved by each other, that originates and perfects and assures their blessedness. I knew now that love gives to him that loveth, power over any soul beloved, even if that soul knew him not, bringing him inwardly close to that spirit; a power that cannot be but for good; for in proportion as selfishness intrudes, the love ceases, and the power which springs there-from dies. Yet all love will, one day, meet with its return. All true love will, one day, behold its own image in the eyes of the beloved, and be humbly glad.”

* George MacDonald, “Phantastes,” Wm Eerdmans Publishing Co., Grand Rapids, Michigan, 1964

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014