What's the Kingdom?

The Kingdom Wha-HUH???        

Between moments of bold pontificating and spouting off as if I really had any idea what the heck I was talking about (a great failing of writers who think expertise on a subject comes about after 45 minutes of research), someone had the audacity to ask me a direct question: what is the Kingdom?

I scratched various parts of my body in consternation. I should know this one!

“It’s, er…well, ya know, um…right. Okay, it’s kinda round on one end and has that antenna-looking thing poking out, and it gets great gas mileage.”

Anything except, “I’m not sure.” I was famous for that as a kid. Ask me anything, go on. If I don’t know the answer I’ll make one up and probably make it sound pretty convincing. This time I just ate the crow-under-glass and decided to plead ignoramus-ness and respond with a very honest, “Let me get back to you on this.” Okay, that’s not true either. I threw out some pat answer that (I thought) sounded good and then quickly wandered off topic. Not sure how honest even that response actually was because I had every intention of leaving the country in shame at not having a ready answer, but now…I’m ready!

The Kingdom is…

-          The King: first and foremost the Kingdom of the Heavens, the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom Among Us is the King Himself. That may be the most capitalization I’ve ever put into a single sentence, yet all are appropriate. Christ is the Kingdom and the Kingdom is Him. In human history when a European monarch traveled to another realm, he was considered to have brought his own kingdom with him by his very person, so that is not only a very human precedent but a logical one as well. We still do this today. Travel to France or Mozambique or wherever and enter the United States Embassy there. The first thing you’ll see are United States Marines and for good reason; they are technically standing on U.S. soil. This not only makes good spiritual sense but is also quite convenient, as one must merely reach out to Christ and invite Him to join in your life to be able to touch the actual Kingdom. A little Kingdom, anyone? Every Happy Jesus Meal comes with a free Kingdom inside.

-          The Rule: the Kingdom, any kingdom, is also the law that governs said realm, and in our case it’s the very Rule of God. Grossly misunderstood by man in what Dallas Willard calls “consumer Christianity”, the Rule of God is often confused with the rod of God, meaning a list of “do’s” and “don’ts” that goes on endlessly for the sole purpose of making life miserable. DON’T play electronic music in church was an old rule that held for decades in most circles, but is now commonly accepted because it was, in every aspect, completely stupid. Likewise the notion that tithes were specifically for building funds, church utility bills and pastoral salaries. Great, the lights are on and Father Ted’s Lexus payment has been made, but there’s a homeless guy sleeping in frigid temperatures on the side of Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering and Hypocrisy. The real Rule of God was explained in detail on Mount Sermon, or whatever that place was; do unto others as you would have them do to you, forgive, don’t judge, turn the other cheek and most importantly, love God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself. Thank God that Jesus was a firm believer in the K.I.S.S. principle because complex, legalistic concepts just aren’t my forte. So the Kingdom is law; perfect, just, merciful and all-encompassing law.

-          The Place: rationally, the Kingdom is also a place, a legitimate where (interestingly, it is also a time and we are told that the time is now). The actual geographic locale of the Kingdom of God is…drum roll, please…right here. It’s not so much being built as it is being reclaimed; one stick, one stone, one soul at a time. It might be a stretch to say that God ever lost it since He doesn’t strike me as the kind of Lord to lose His wallet or car keys, but His perfect creation was certainly invaded, or infected if you will. Since then, all of creation has been in one long, slow, stumbling fall into anarchy, chaos and evil. When asked about who’s going to be the next president my answer is always the same: I don’t know, but historically the next one is always worst than the last. The same with history. Julius Caesar was outdone by the barbarian hordes, the Vikings were one-upped by the Crusaders, Genghis Khan kicked everybody’s butt yet couldn’t hold a candle to Napolean and Mr. Bonaparte was a rank amateur when compared to Hitler. In fact, it’s been said that more people have died in the 20^th century than in all the Chuck Norris films combined, and that more Christians have been martyred in the last 100 years than in the previous 1000. I haven’t checked the facts on this, but it feels right…if “right” is the proper term to be used here. All this was said to demonstrate not only what the Kingdom is not, but where it is not. It’s not to be found in greed and hate and ugliness, in violence and bitterness and sadness. But it is to be found in love, in kindness, in gentleness and compassion and understanding and especially in the patience brought about by faith and obedience. When you love and laugh, when you are generous and forgiving, when you smile at your children while they’re sleeping or tell someone who owes you money or wronged you foully that it’s okay, then I get to dab your cheek with a napkin, baby, because you got a little Kingdom on you.

So the Kingdom is the King, and it’s His Law of Love, and it is His people loving one another and being kind to one another, here and now. These days you might have squint a little to see the Kingdom, like a hazy mirage on the horizon, but it’s there all right and getting clearer all the time. Brick by brick, soul by soul, our Lord is building Kingdom all around us and amongst us, and He will not be thwarted no matter how many thwarters come out of the thwartwork.

But the best description is, to me, the Kingdom fulfilled and accomplished. You’ve seen it, in your dreams or in your mind’s eye perhaps. Perfection. Perfect beauty, perfect love, perfect health, never ending life, total absence of pain or suffering or death. A garden that ever blooms and never dies. Bees that don’t sting and snakes that don’t bite, rivers of bathwater temperature water that is clean and perfectly fit to drink. Gentle rain showers that make you giggle and are not at all uncomfortable. Freedom, strength, power, joy and a good night’s sleep where you never once have to get up and go to the bathroom. All your friends and family gathered together without a single argument or resentment. Every dog and cat you’ve ever owned playing happy and healthy at your feet, devoid of fleas and the itchy hairs they left on the furniture last time.

But wait, there’s more!

Communications between loved ones that are never misunderstood. Noble, gentle thoughts that are never interrupted. Creativity that is never stifled. The utter absence of depression and those wonderful pharmaceuticals that sometimes make it better and sometimes make it worse. Even the memory of pain and poisoned thoughts will be gone, yet the lessons learned will remain and just be a part of who you are and what you do, and you’ll do that thing (whatever it is, for we are all so unique it’s eerily similar) forever. Every skill you’ve ever had perfected. Every talent fully expressed. Perfect order, perfect justice, perfect peace both within us and around us. Apparently my divine calling is to be a Kingdom salesman! Step right up! Grab the Savior and drive a 2015 Kingdom away now!

Sound like heaven? Well, I suppose it is because like the Kingdom heaven is not so much a place (often supposed to be some other place than here), but a person. The Person. To be in heaven is simply to be with God, and contrariwise about hell, the other other place. And so to be in the Kingdom is to be with The King. If you’re with the King then you’re in the Kingdom, here and now.

A "New" Look at Psalm 23

The Divine Shepherd, Psalm 23, A Psalm of David

Back when I was a Baptist and knew everything by virtue of my likewise perfected teachers I would have considered any rewrite whatsoever of God’s Holy Word and Scripture the King Jimmy 1611 to be blasphemy of the most heinous sort, not to be tolerated. There just wouldn’t have been a stake big enough to burn me on. But I’m in recovery from the real blasphemy now, undoing years of false indoctrination that made God out to be the meanest guy in the universe and rewriting a legalistic interpretation of scripture that has probably sent more people to hell than pornography and gluten combined!

My biggest problem was, per Acts 8:31, that I could recite bible verses all the live long day until the hypocritical cows came home but basically I had no idea what the hell I was talking about. And having come clean about doing this most of my life I now see it all the time. It’s no wonder that Christ Himself was so angry with the Phrarisee’s and a wonder that He didn’t do some serious smiting on them, or maybe He did. In any event, and forgive me for criticizing the Almighty here, it seems that to allow legalism to run rampant throughout human history is akin to allowing Bubonic plague to infect the Garden of Eden. It’s that bad. It’s totaled that many souls, very nearly my own. I used to joke that if the rapture occurred Sunday morning, would anyone notice…not that we believe in such things in our modern enlightened age!

So without further adieu, let’s have a look at that most famous of Psalms, Psalm 23, The Divine Shepherd and break it down in terms that I can understand and that mean something to me.

God is my protector, my keeper and my guide, and I have everything I need or desire.

Because of him I can relax in a place of security and plenty where all my needs are met.

Because of him I can relax in a place of peace and refreshment where my innermost fundamental being is restored to a right working order.

He guides me in a way and to places that are the very best for me, just because he wants to.

Even when I’m traveling through grim and terrifying places I don’t have to be afraid: he won’t leave me.

He has tools he uses to both protect me and correct me, and these are a great solace and comfort.

He even provides everything I want and need and more and does so in front of people who hate me;

He treats me like an adopted son, like a king treats his prince, like royalty, so that I have more in life than I can possibly use.

I know for a fact that good things and right actions, and even absolution for my many mistakes, will be a part of my life for the rest of my life, and that I get to live with him, right next to him, together with him, for the rest of my life and even into the life to come.

I’m looking above my head right now and I see no sign of a thunderstorm or lightning strike. Blue skies indeed, and what’s more is that I didn’t just recite a well known scripture out of rote or ritual; this means something to me. It gives me hope and confidence and more than a little joy. I can’t speak for you or anyone else, but just by putting this in my own words, his living Word took on new meaning and application. Thank you, God.

Healing, Needs and the Fallacy of Manipulations

‘Da Troof!

How honest are we, really? I mean self-honesty, not the easy kind where we do our taxes right or tell someone else they have a piece of spinach in their teeth. But the real, deep-seated, hard-to-admit/ouch-that-hurts/am-I –really-like-that kind of honesty. Experiencing the feeling of epiphany when even discovering the topic and coming to understand it (as I am trying to) would seem to be an indicator that I have little actual experience of being truly self-honest when I’m just now getting a grasp of what self-honesty actually is. As always, there are examples.

I want something from someone. It scarcely matters what that thing is, I just want it: praise, affection, a cookie…who cares. This person isn’t stepping up to meet my needs to my satisfaction (and after all I’VE done for this relationship! That’s a joke, by the way, and a pertinent one as you will see) so I slip a dagger slyly into their ribs, some cut-down, some jab. The attack, for that is certainly what it amounts to, may even be based on some factual instance or behavior, as we are all imperfect creatures and wide open to criticism, but my motivation is unsound and unhealthy and quite selfish. Let’s say I’m just lonely, feeling hurt and alone. I “reach out” to someone, if that’s what one calls a heavily landed psychological blow from an uncaring flailing fist! Because they didn’t respond or respond favorably to my expectations I point out a fault or failing of theirs, a course of action sure to further deteriorate an already twisted scenario. If they’re wise they simply avoid the whole mess and don’t engage with someone who’s approaching them in such a manner and with such a motivation, and in fact our gut instincts are usually correct about how “safe” or gentle the intentions of another human being are; we can just tell, and get a bad vibe when it doesn’t feel right. If they do engage it is unlikely, since I’m now getting what I wanted which is their attention (positive or negative), that I will recognize the poor basis and motivation of my own approach. Or it may just devolve into a fight, which might also be what I wanted…scary thought, but not without merit. Don't get me wrong here. I'm not talking about jumping out of a dark alley and screaming at someone like a slathering psychopath. The original approach (which I have both given and received many times) is usually something very subtle like, "I guess you're real busy these days, huh?" Don't buy it. What's really being said is, "I guess you're too busy to care about me as a human being because you're so wrapped up in yourself while I suffer like a dumb animal." That may not come out of my mouth, but it's pretty close to what's coming out of my heart.

But let’s say they don’t respond and don’t take the bait. Silence ensues. That heavy, thought-provoking silence which is sometimes just another person being very busy (or just not giving a squat) or maybe their guts are telling them to steer clear. In that silence I am faced with my own intentions for initiating the original assault. More silence. I’m now officially out of “the river” (the flow of God’s Holy Spirit where intentions mean everything). I sense this about myself and am sensitive to it, fairly close to a redeeming quality if ever there was one! So I apologize, filling the silence. Or do I?

“Hey, I was just kidding! I didn’t mean anything by it.”

That…is a lie.

I wasn’t kidding. I did mean something by it. I wanted your attention, I wanted you to comfort me, I wanted to get things from you which should come from myself or from God or which I should be doing without like a grownup. But you didn’t respond the way I wanted, and since there’s a nugget in every sinful nature that wants to be God and control other human beings (ironic, since God loves and respects free will more than anyone), I lashed out. Now I’m adding manipulation to my crime of being pathetic, adding injury to insult as it were. It’s not MY fault for being needy and manipulative, you see. It’s YOUR fault because you don’t know how to take a “joke”. Indeed. Was there a joke anywhere in this mess? I think not. Definitely a joke-free environment, and you can always tell because, well, it wasn’t funny. It was manipulation, trying to get others to do what I want, to get my “needs” met at no expense to myself and with minimal effort. Recognizing this behavior is a good step, and recognizing the unmet needs is an even better one. I wasn’t being funny, I was being frustrated but not ready to give up yet, so I made it your fault instead of stepping up and accepting responsibility for manipulative behavior. Sometimes I may succeed in making you feel bad, which drags me farther into denial about the original intent, but more often than not I’ve just twisted myself and the situation to a point where I can’t see my way out of it. That’s why silence is, indeed, quite golden at tmes.

So what’s the truth, or ‘da troof? The truth is that we’re all hurt, we all have injuries that create a sense of need. I am not only not an exception I’m a poster boy for hurt! But is the solution to my hurt a pain pill, a feel good instance? Will it really help me to have someone feel sorry for me in my state and put some emotional salve on the wound instead of addressing it? No, in fact that’s the worst thing that can happen because the wound itself is never addressed, only the selfish need to “feel better” is at issue here. The wound can only be healed by God. People can, and sometimes should, be there for comfort but one should never have to beg or coerce. They might actually be quite busy with their own hurts and a mess like this may be interfering with their own healing path, that place of healing that only exists between God and human being. I originally reached out/lashed out because I did not want to go to God for healing. I probably don’t like the way He does business or trust Him enough to do it right, and that speaks entirely for itself. But His healing is healing, and far better than the band-aid I would receive from another human being. Compassion, yes. Empathy, sure. Nothing wrong with any of that in healthy doses. But using another to avoid God, no we probably need to draw the line there.

As an addendum, the responses of others can be brutal in these situations, which sort of turns the table on the needy aggressor and can exacerbate a conflagration. Instead of kind, gentle words of “Hey, what’s really bothering you?” the approached person may lash out in their own turn. This has happened to me, from a family member. They were right, of course; I was being manipulative. But because they’d been the victim of many manipulations in the past their response was inordinate and angry in its own right. In such an instance you just come clean about it, man up, admit your fault and as much of your motivation as you can see, apologize and move on with a vow to try never to do it again. I can’t help your hurt which manifested itself in such ire at being twisted up, nor can I expect you to help with mine. Supporting each other is a different matter from playing god/healer with each other, and gentleness is almost always a fine approach, laced with firmness at times, because gentleness avoids the whole tug-of-war approach of human nature which, when you pull one way commands me to pull the other.

So (speaking to the rest of humanity), I’ll make you a deal: I’ll not turn to you for soul healing and try to manipulate you into doing what I want for my own needs if you’ll correct me gently and not lash out in your own turn. And vice versa. It may take some work but with self-awareness and a good heart, self-honesty

Kingdom Gentleman

What a guy! One of the more overlooked attributes of the King of Kings is that fact that he was and remains a true gentleman. I suppose I'll have to capitalize that "G" and I don't have a problem with that, seeing as gentlemen are in notoriously short supply. I speak primarily of myself, as I have lived the majority of my life under the guise and guile of a gentleman while usually acting a true Baalam's ass. What good does it do to say "please" and "thank you" and then cut someone down with scathing sarcasm? Or to hold the door open for a lady walking into a building for the overriding reason of taking a long, lingering look at her hinder parts? And, again for my own part, most of the times I've used the term "sir" it came off phoney even to me. So gentlemanly behavior is perhaps a tad deeper than just pleasantries or outward appearances, and as with all things of value there just might be a Kingdom value and application here worth looking at.

Firstly, and I stole this from the movie "Dances with Wolves", no man can tell another what to do. Of course, you can but the results are often quite predictable. Put simply, there is umbrage and this is not unexpected. People, sons of Adam and daughters of Eve all, are made in the image of their Creator and are in their own right creative beings themselves. Whether straddling a wheelchair or perched in the highest tower of glass and steel (or ivory), we are immensely powerful beings. No matter your political affiliation, if you came across Obama throwing down on a ham, pork and bacon sandwich with some of his friends in Washington D.C. would you say to the man, "Hey boy, fetch me a napkin."? Almost certainly not, mostly because it would be the sworn duty of several Secret Service agents (there's the "gent" word again) to pound you into oblivion if you did so. But why not? Maybe you really needed a napkin, maybe he was already getting one and preparing to return to his seat right next to you? Maybe, as has been the case far too often with myself, you thought you were a really funny guy and couched your "request" in such a way and such a tone as to come off with an innocent humor and not sounding like an order at all? The answer is that you are still telling someone else what to do, giving an order where there is no cause to do so. I'm sure that every employer in America may take exception with me on this point, and I'd hate to make my argument before a military tribunal during a major conflict, but the fact is that to my knowledge Christ never told anyone to do anyone...and he made the world, as well as ourselves.

Take this concept to its appropriate level. You're walking down the street and come to a city park, perhaps at night. Some thugs or perhaps some Quakers drunk on power and apple wine are getting ready to beat an AIDS-ridden transvestite prostitute to death. Remember, we're still talking about sons of Adam and daughters of Eve here, creative beings of terrific power and potential. The first blow lands, what is the Kingdom response? "Stop it, you funny-hat wearing, hate-filled, overcoat sporting crazy people! Don't hit that poor woman...guy...whatever!" Now, you're doing a good deed, a real mitzvah, standing up for a brother/sister who cannot defend themselves, and you're about to wade in like a rescuing hero resembling Harrison Ford in "Witness" when he thumped that yokel who stopped his pickup truck in front of the Amish wagon and wiped ice cream on that one guy's nose. Who could gainsay or debate the rightness of your actions?

I could, and here's why. I'm going to almost certainly quote you now, as I am without utmost certainty quoting myself: "It's not what you did, it's how you did it." How often have we judged, correctly in many an instance, the motives and methods of someone who was quite sure, correctly in again many an instance, that they were doing right? Was it their tone, their inflection? Maybe it was the look on their face or that sharp gleam in their eye. I concede here and now that you're right, because no man has cause or justification to be barking orders at another. It's just not cricket, mate...or Kingdom-like in this context. And if you are right and just in your cause, wouldn't you want to go the extra mile in staying right, in staying firmly in the area of justness in both appearance and approach? And think of the results, or possible results. How would a thug react as he (or she) is about to commit violence on a helpless human being and you quietly walk up and ask them to stop? Ask them.

"Well, Mr. Writer," perhaps retorts my dear reader, "They'd probably stop what they were doing and beat the living tar out of ME!" Yep, they might very well do that, and guess what? You just succeeded in your goal, because they are no longer affronting the innocent and the helpless. You just lived a Kingdom principle, and good things are always the result of this, whether in this world or the next. It's possible that as soon as they're done turning you into a red mist they'll resume their original intent and go back to pummeling our poor prostitute, but I think it unlikely. They'll probably be too tired, or perhaps too bemused with confusion or too wracked with laughter. In any event, you have done your part and God can now take over. I've found in every instance that he does a better job of everything than I do, so that's a good thing.

But it's also equally possible that, having approached a situation such as this in a Kingdom manner then Kingdom power will then be applied and perhaps in generous doses. Maybe the assailant will, in a state of disbelief that a hero such as yourself approached in such an uncharacteristic heroic fashion that, after a little good-natured ribbing and mockery (something we Christians should be used to or at least willing to acquaint ourselves with) they'll seek better sport elsewhere. Then you can lovingly pick your prostitute up off the ground, brush him or her off, get him or her cleaned up and live happily ever after just like in "Pretty Woman".

A point is that Kingdom living is infectious. What would be the result of such excellent testimony in the life of the prostitute, or the assailant, or some passerby? The possibilities are limitless and unpredictable by the humble mind of man, especially mine. All this just by asking instead of telling, and this is an extreme scenario. Apply the same principle in line at the DMV or when dealing with an employee who is used to having orders barked at them. Better yet, apply it with your wife or children, whom are now being treated as equals and peers, people whom you want to grow with the kind of self-esteem your treatment of them inculcates. Christ came that we might have life, and that more abundantly. And that sounds like pretty good life to me, being asked instead of told. And not all smarmy either, something of the order of "Would you puhhhh-LEASE give me a cheeseburger and fries, if it's not too much trouble?" That hardly merits the question mark at the end of that sentence, and again I'm utterly guilty of this kind of self- and public deception, couching an angry, unhappy spirit behind formalities that, in all honesty, don't mean squat.

Getting back to our beloved daughter-of-Eve (or Adam) prostitute, that actually happened. Christ came upon a woman caught in the act of adultery, about to be stoned to death for her infraction. He didn't tell anyone to do or not do anything. In fact, he just sat on the ground and played with his heavenly Etch-O-Sketch for a bit until people pondered the question he asked. Granted, it was a really killer question but his approach was as Kingdomly as it gets. This has a lot to do with his motive: he wanted to spread the Good News, the love of God and the coming of his Kingdom...and keep the blood off the rocks, I might add. I don't know exactly what happened to those "gents" so quick to judge and kill, or even the woman whether she went on to join his ministry and lead a women's group at the local Baptist potluck, but it's a good guess that Christ's approach had some effect. The nature of that effect, just like with you or I, depends greatly if not entirely upon our own position of receptiveness. We might get fastly furious, we might even pick a new target for our rock-chucking...or our lives might be changed forever and the Kingdom again enhanced and enlarged. Pretty sweet, eh? That's the power of asking and the power of Kingdom living, and it never fails. Christ was and is a true Gentleman, THE faithful and true Gentleman.

I Don't Wanna!

Definition of Fuss:
Webster's defines a "fuss" as follows - both noun and verb (1.) to have or throw a fuss and fit / to be a little fusspot / snapshot of a hissy fit / to figuratively or literally roll around on the floor thrashing one's arms and legs in an immature display of humanness. (2.) Any member of the judiciary or bar association.

Writing is as easy as advising others on what to do, it's following one's own advice and taking one's own medicine that's hard. So, to segue smoothly from the previous post, Confessions of an Unrepentant Cheese-Weasel, first let me say that I am in the process of doing what I recommend but haven't actually pulled it off yet. Secondly, let me say that I am THE proverbial fusspot, the King of Fuss, a real fuss-a-roo/fuss-a-rama, I fuss therefore I am, etc. Thirdly, since we're all God's children and children tend to fuss, I ask that you join me in vulnerability and self-honesty and proudly take your place in the ranks of God's Special Little Fussers. We're all in this together....

The Transcendent Healing Path of an Unrepentant Cheese-Weasel

"What don't you understand? I found the cure for the f***ing plague of the twentieth century and now I've lost it. Haven't you ever lost anything doctor Bronx? Your purse? Your car keys? Well, it's rather like that: Now you have it and now you don't."- Dr. Robert Campbell (Sean Connery) in "Medicine Man"

Beats me how it happened. One day your prayers are uplifting, energizing, invigorating, the next day you can't summon the strength to complain. One day you're on top of the world (Ma!) and know exactly who you are, what you're doing here and how to go about it. The next day you couldn't find your butt with both hands and a map, with the added insult that it now looks exponentially bigger in those jeans than it did a month ago. One day you have God, and the next you seem and feel completely and utterly alone.

Kind of feels like dying doesn't it? It only feels that way because that is precisely what is happening to you. And I wouldn't be writing this if it hadn't happened to me as well.

It doesn't have to be this way. While you can never change your nature (after all, in the words of John Ortberg, "God doesn't make appliances, He makes masterpieces.") you can be assured that if Tiger Woods can summon himself into "the zone" even after the world's most expensive and embarrassing divorce then you can too. Then, in the parlance of the game, you can go back to being deliciously and successfully teed off again!

Separation from God, from our maker, from The Source is death indeed. There is perhaps as much confusion over the nature of salvation as there is over the nature of damnation. If being saved was simply an insurance policy that, once signed, allowed me to go chummily along my merry way without a care in the world then I would have been the first to sign up. Actually, I was. It sounded like a good deal but it didn't work out as the fire-breathing Baptist preacher I was named after told me it would. He may very well have pounded people from the pulpit because, in spite of following all the Biblical rules and guidelines of salvation as preached from Protestant circles, he was miserable. I have gone on for years pounding people on the internet, in chat rooms, in emails, in personal missives, in person and so on for the very same reason. In spite of heart-wrenching confessions, in spite of proclaiming with my mouth that Jesus is the risen Lord, in spite of tithing and praying and even having an attitude of gratitude (which turned out to be a platitude!) I was miserable. I'm not entirely sure that is salvation, even if I am a knock-knock-knocking on heaven's door with the assurance of gaining entry. Eternal life may be the blessed hope but who has the strength or desire to even hope when every day is a burden? Being saved in the next life yet utterly and inexpressibly unhappy in this one is not salvation.

(there is a great deal more to convey on this concept, but suffice it for now to say that it is a Kingdom concept, meaning that He, Jesus, came that we would have life and that more abundantly. In other words, God is one of the few people you can look dead in the eye and say, "Well...yeah. Thanks, I guess. But what are you going to do for me today?" and He won't take offense. In fact, like any good father the happiness, health and well-being of His children, His masterpieces, is of paramount importance to Him. You were meant to be whole and complete, in this life and the next, and you can be. You should be.)

All this begs the question, "How did I lose my salvation?". And in response to your query I might ask you right back, "Which time?" Now if you're an absolute literalist when it comes to Scripture you might be having an adverse reaction to the thought of one losing their salvation, being quick to cite such verses as "No man will pluck thee out of His hand" and so on. Well, also one must work out their salvation with fear and trembling, and one verse that fits like a glove is (paraphrased) that it's a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the Living God...especially if He's not happy with you or your choices. So if you're working up a good old-fashioned fuss then maybe it's time to take a chill pill, Phil, relax a bit and admit to yourself one very important fact: if God is all-powerful, all-knowing, all-American and altogether fourteen shades of awesome then do you really think you're going to understand everything He said in the Bible on the first read or two? I found a very effective cure for my fusses when it comes to the Word of God, and that is the great liberation of declaring "I don't know." Is Noah's Ark on Ararat or Pike's Peak? Did Job see a dinosaur or did Jonah get gobbled by a whale or a fish? Why do men have nipples and why did you make a mosquito and a flea in the first place, 'O Lord? The answer is...we don't know. If God were fussy like we often get then the answer might be formulated a bit like like, "Nunya bee's wax. I've been God for a long time and the position is filled, so relax and have some apple juice." 

As for losing one's salvation, I don't know...but it sure feels like it. And while the sum total of our lives is a lot more than how we feel at any given moment, some feelings are pretty danged important. I want to feel like I'm in communion with God. I want to feel His transcendent love. I want to feel saved and not just know that I'm saved so I can nibble over potluck in a church gymnasium on a hard plastic chair expressing half-felt sympathy for all those other poor suckers who just don't get it. And when I feel like I'm not saved that's as important to me as that distant tingling sensation I get when I place my hand into a nest of angry wasps. My body, my spirit, my soul are all telling me something vital to my continued comfort and even survival, and it sounds like a pretty good idea to listen.

Life. The moral of the story, its beginning and its end and all the gooey stuff in the middle, is life. Life everlasting, life today, life tomorrow. Life for you, life for me, life for everybody. Call it whatever you like that makes you feel comfortable; losing one's joy, being bereft of stillness, down in the dumps, chronically depressed. I call it my salvation, my day-to-day experience of the greater life and reality all around me all the time...and I've lost it more times than I've lost my car keys, my wallet and the TV remote combined.

I don't want to lose it again. I want to be back in the zone, back in communion and as Duane Dyer says it, "back in the spirit". This is about the return journey, the road home. It's a how-to piece on salvaging one's salvation. Most of it is pretty simple and straightforward, except for the hard parts. I'll skip those to make it easier, because that's what I've historically done whenever life gets hard: just skip a bit, brother.

First and foremost, know that since God is everywhere He really can't go anywhere. And if He's still there then why aren't you with Him? He never moved. Where's He going to go? It's not like He has to go to work because unlike a great many of us He loves His job and pretty much lives at His desk. The bad news is, you turned. We all have. You turned like a saucer of mayonnaise getting a sun tan, like one of those fancy lawn mowers that big companies use for their big company lawns. You were moseying right along, happy as a half-baked clam, then zip! Off you went in the other direction without so much as a "C-ya" wave over your shoulder to the mightiest being in the universe. You left, He stayed. Then you got unhappy about it. That's Human Existence: 101 and nothing to be ashamed about. In fact, 9 out of 10 patriarchs in the Bible recommend acting like an idiot in order to figure out some of life's most basic principles. The burned hand teaches best, but when it comes to walking away from one's Creator, one's Source, it might be best to just dip one pinky toe in the pool to test the waters instead of cannon balling off the diving board only to find that the pool is filled with liquid nitrogen. Or worse, that there's nothing in it at all.

Having established the obvious, mainly that He rules and is slicker than sliced bread while we struggle with basic motor skills and personal hygiene, we can move on a bit. It is important however to take responsibility for this, and it only stings for a moment and the only thing injured is our pride, an overrated human attribute if ever there was one. That's the bad news. The good news is this: much like those fancy zero degree turn lawn movers that make gigantic lawns such a breeze, you can zip right back towards God without so much as running over a sprinkler head. And best of all, He'll have you back.

How do I know this? Easy, because I've done it a gazillion times. The only reason I'm writing about it now is because the stakes are a little higher, I'm a little older and there is a winding debris-ridden trail of wrecked human relationships zig-zagging behind me as if I were a garbage scow with a leaky cargo hold. He will take you back. He has too. It's in His contract (ie. the Bible) and He never breaks His word. But that's not why He takes us back. The why is likewise simple: because He loves us, and love is everything. Why does the Earth orbit the sun and the moon orbit the earth? Why does the grass grow towards the sky and the electron circle the nucleus? For the same reason I go to Dairy Queen and get a double chocolate Blizzard (that's chocolate ice cream with hot fudge poured on it) and extra candy of the Butterfinger variety. Because I love to. Love overcomes all without raising a voice or lifting a finger. Love determines all without getting fussy or bossy or even writing a memo. Love...in the immortal words of my favorite green sock puppet, Yoda...surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we indeed, and not just this crude matter.

There's another great movie out there, one of Bill Murray's more serious roles which I think he pulled off quite nicely, called "The Razor's Edge" based upon the book by Somerset Maugham. In it our hero, Larry, is a spiritual seeker and winds up in India, probably not just for the vindaloo. He travels high into the mountains and goes to work in a Tibetan monastery, then travels even higher up to the snow-covered peaks of the Himalayas where he reads his books in a hut with no walls and slowly begins to freeze to death. He takes one of his last remaining matches...and uses the holy books for fire fuel, then saunters off to the enjoy the breath taking view all around him with eagles soaring and dancing amidst clouds that are beneath his very feet. Larry travels back down to bid the monks good bye, having completed this particular essay in the school of life, and tells the holy man, "Isn't it true? It's easy to be a holy man when you're sitting on top of a mountain?"

The monk responds enigmatically, "You're closer than you think. The path to salvation is narrow, and as difficult to walk as a razor's edge."

Hooray! We have a title. But allow me to quote another great movie in response, this time Al Pacino in "Scent of a Woman". What a crock of sh*t!

It's not narrow. It's not difficult. And it's certainly not a razor's edge. It's easy-peasy lemon squeezy. All you have to do is turn. You don't even have to understand love or manifest unfailing love for others or walk around with a little love in your heart. You just have to accept love, just be on the receiving end. Turn and catch.

Ah, but you've screwed up ROYAL, haven't you? Yeah, me too. Don't sweat it, just turn and be loved. And much like I told my beloved wife, best friend and love of my life, when she was heading to get me something to drink: "Don't screw it up." (charming, eh?) But it's sound advice for oneself, though something of a relationship killer I now see with 20/20 hindsight. Don't be saddled with guilt and shame about being "God's loser", about screwing things up royal, about all the mistakes you've made. Just turn and be loved. God absolutely goes ga-ga over prodigal sons and daughters making their way back. He's weird like that. I think of Charlie Brown and Lucy, the lovely girl who happily holds the football that Charlie never successfully kicks, but instead pulls it away at the last moment again and again. God's love is kind of like Charlie's foot swinging away trustfully over and over, ever flailing never connecting.

It doesn't have to be like that. To sum up with one of my all-time favorite verses, "Be still and know that I am God." That's right, it's a 3-part plan but they're pretty simple parts. Turn, be loved and then be still. And rest assured that the loving, cleated foot of God will finally connect and boot your buns right between the goal posts if only you'll let Him. May seem like a funny way to get one's salvation back, but much like a certain writer made in His image, God's a funny guy.

The Quest for Bliss

“Behold! Behold the opening of the way to the Tower!”

It may be trite but there’s a little Eden in all of us. As with many things in our marvelous, modern civilization some of our question’s answers can be found mathematically. Case in point: politics.

In Europe they have multiple political parties; 9,270.5 to be exact. That’s because they’re educated, mathematically educated to be precise, although it may be my own lack of numerical skill that skews me into that perception. Here in America, we divide things in two’s. When in doubt, cut it in half – at least that’s what Solomon used to say. Two’s are manageable. Two’s are simple. Two’s are good. And as the old preface goes for any piece of pretentious, pontificating wisdom….”there are two kinds of people in this world.” And indeed there are.

One kind really, really, really suck. Or smell. Perhaps they smell suck, who knows. Whatever their dilemma it is painfully obvious that they just…don’t…get it. The other kind are like us, like you and me. You know…awesome. They see the important camouflaged amidst the horrifically lame and awful mundane tedious horror that we call “modern urban uber-hipness” or “life”, if you will. They get it, and we always will. They’ve tasted Eden and found it sweet. And since art imitates life as surely as Americans hack things in halves, there is as always a movie reference readily available. This time, oddly enough, it comes from the Star Trek franchise, “Star Trek: Insurrection”.

In the ultimate Cliff’s Notes version, the movie is about an Eden planet where you never grow old and never get sick and never die. The rather quiet and deliciously happy people that live there broke in half, with a younger generation going off rebelliously and the other half staying put and raising goats while making stone ground flour for fresh bread. Since it’s the future it’s assumed they washed their hands between these activities. ‘Lo and behold that  younger generation spends about a hundred years out in space, exploring, getting older….and older and (to them) unbearably older. Think about it. If your neighbors never aged or worse, you irritating brother or sister never got any older, wouldn’t that just really tick you off?  Well, it irritated our young Trekster whipper snappers and they came back to destroy the planet and relocate their cousins, and we’ll call that “plot”. But it’s the sub-themes that best capture what I'm after here. Questions arise from the Edenic denizens like, “Can you imagine a perfect moment in time? What if there were an entire universe captured within that moment?” And they’re right. Captured visually and stunningly, a hummingbird enjoys the bud of a flower in slow, slow motion. The colors of red and blue are vibrant and as alive as the hummingbird. The air is quiet and still and pleasant. The setting is perfect and stretches into eternity. And behind it is a life-giving woman and a life-protecting man, simultaneously making and participating in and enjoying this moment which has now taken on a life all its own. And while that scene with Donna Murphy and Patrick Stewart is a brilliant bit of movie making in a flick that will momentarily see phasers and warp cores, the subject of Eden is barely brushed upon yet, momentarily, perfectly depicted.We received a glimpse of Eden.

“For behold, the Kingdom of God is within you.” – Luke 17:21

Eden is in us, all of us. Almost as if it were programmed into our DNA without our knowledge, so that we may occasionally stumble upon it and manifest it in our lives, but never fully understand how we did it or how to recreate it. It’s been said that the Kingdom of God comes not with observation and I can see the merit to that statement; it comes from experience. When we live it we share it, and when we share it we manifest it. And if we can do that with each other then real peace and harmonious love lies just within our reach.

Ordinarily I would look at myself and declare emphatically that I’m babbling like an idiot, except that I’ve experienced this and recently. It was a perfect moment in time, when time stood still, when every worry and care fell from me like the sloughed off skin of a reformed snake.  In moments like that people around me will say, “Yes, that’s him! That’s the real him. He’s not really that Nimrod who hates balloons and teaches his llama to poo in my front yard, he’s decent and worthy and wonderful…and look at those abs!” Okay, I ab-libbed the last bit but you get the gist: I experienced a perfect moment where time didn’t just stand still, it ceased to exist like the fiction that it truly is. Some call this phenomenon synchronicity with God or getting in touch with one’s feelings. Others have called it lost in love and one poor soul referred to it as a 1933 Studebaker, but he’s no longer with us and is unavailable for comment. Call it what you like, you know of what I write. You’ve been there. You’ve experienced love of simply being at its finest and most sublime. You’ve seen time stand still to the point of disappearing. You’ve been lost lovingly in a moment, not even possessed of enough negativity to wish that the moment would never end but only content to enjoy it. A wistful ribbon of sadness might ensue when the moment ends, as it always does and usually abruptly and in a violent back-to-reality manner, but the moment is so (dare I say?) holy that you have no desire to interrupt it. In fact, for that one brief, shining Camelot-esque moment you were actually free from desire altogether.

When was it for you? Was it teenage love with all its passion and hormonal enthusiasm? Or the sweet rapture of a beautiful piece of music or, better yet, creating said musical harmonies? This could have been the Rite of Spring strings of Stravinsky or the jews-harp of John Barry’s Dances with Wolves. Or perhaps some other artistic venue such as painting or sculpting or another method of bringing refined beauty out of raw materials? The moment might even be sheer emotional poignancy; a mother holding her newborn babe, a last conversation with a dying loved one or the unexpected words of a beloved friend.

Whatever it is, Jack…there ain’t enough of it!

I don’t know how to make it, this perfect time-free moment, but I can at least identify it as the most blissful, transcendent state in the human experience. In that moment you not only desire to do no wrong, you can’t conceive of doing wrong. In fact, all wrong has been set right and becomes altogether inconceivable. All your words are right, all your feelings are harmonious and loving, all your joys are to be shared and not squandered. As Whoopi Goldberg said in yet another Star Trek movie, “It’s like being inside joy”, and indeed it is.

That, my friends, is the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth, and the first step in a quest which has required my entire life to take.

Stephen King wrote about the Dark Tower and I’ve always thought his premise to be mistaken, that some unknowable and rather scary powerhouse of reality is meant to be found and scaled and overcome, all the while lovers and mothers and heroes have been quietly slipping into this transcendent state and, in a direct contrast to combat veterans who’ve been there and can’t talk about, they never say a word. Survivors of militarized violence will decry that only those that have been there would understand, but that’s an understanding we can all do without, for something far better, far more noble and glorious, resides within the tentative grasp of our fingertips: Edenic bliss. And in this case, we’ve all been there, and we all wish to go back. And stay, forever.

Join me in this quest. Seek your tower, the pinnacle of the joy of your existence,to just be. And learn from our common mistakes by looking…if not in the right direction then at least not in the old directions such as money, fame, power and sex. It’s not there, and never has been. The Kingdom of God is within you, and perhaps of equal importance, among you.

I don’t know the way to the Tower, I only know that I’m heading in the right direction when I recognize love as the key that unlocks it. Love and acceptance of one’s self, love for one’s friend and neighbor, love for God. I have experienced these moments alone in nature or in communion with the Lord Who Loves Me, but I’ve more often experienced them in sweet fellowship with those that I love, and that’s where the quest might very well begin for you. For you may not always have slow-mo hummingbirds or a colorful garden with murmuring waterfalls and babbling brooks in the background. But you’ll always have God and you’ll always have each other.

Happy hunting. And in the words of Winston Churchill, “Never, ever EVER give up.”