The Gates of Hell

So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’  He refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the debt. -- Matthew 18:29-30

Last night as I was cutting grass, I started thinking about an event that I may attend this weekend.  If I do there is a possibility that I will run into some people with whom I had a negative encounter several years ago.  These people literally got me thrown in jail.  I was in a holding cell for all of twenty minutes, but it was still a humiliating experience, and the way it was done wounded me.  These were, I should mention, ordained ministers in a solidly Reformed denomination.  I think their justification was that I was something of a bully.  That is, I am not easily manipulated and am rather resentful of any attempt to manipulate me.  I consider manipulation a form of witchcraft. 

So, this man of God and his “submissive” wife, along with a couple of other people, accosted me in my yard one evening with a number of accusations.  The wife, in particular, was shrill and abusive.  I took it for a little while, but when they refused to leave, instead of going in the house and locking the door as I should have, I questioned their ancestry, sexual habits, and the legitimacy of their parents’ marriage rites.   I was still off the leash when a patrol car rolled up to the curb.  One of their other confederates had called in a disturbance.  The woman who had been confronting me so viciously suddenly broke into tears – this is a preacher’s wife, remember – and swore that I had threated her.  Her Greek chorus backed her claim, and I was handcuffed and shoved in the back of the cruiser.  It cost me a lot of time and trouble and good money to get it resolved without too much damage. 

As I was mowing, I was recalling all this and thinking what I might say if I ran into this fine, upstanding Christian couple and their family.  They are such self-satisfied, self-righteous prigs that I would not be surprised – if they remember and recognize me – for them to tell me they forgive me for all I did to them.  In my mind, I ran through a scenario like that, and I considered how I might react, what I might say.  After a bit, the words that came to mind were pretty disturbing:  I would volunteer to burn in hell if it was my job to grind your filthy face into the coals. 

You would think, after all these years, my hatred would be not so white-hot.  The unforgiving servant was so determined to “get his own” that he forgot about his own master’s mercy.  He was willing to forgo forgiveness in order to get revenge.   Same as me. 

I had to wonder if my refusal to forgive and my craving for retribution for more than a decade have not contributed to my touchiness and bouts of depression.  I would like to say I had completely forgotten those who offended me, but I had merely pushed them out of sight.  I blamed myself – and I was certainly wrong to explode the way I did.  Predictably explode, I might add.  It caused me to question the reality of my Christianity.  Only now -- looking back, am I able to more easily agree with the assessment my late, dear mother-in-law voiced as I was being shackled – that they had set me up.  Assuming that it was my fault entirely, I preferred not to think about it at all.  Probably, if I went through the details and a little of the background, I could make an even stronger case justifying my response.  One exchange in particular was extremely provocative.  That serves no purpose and does me no good.  It doesn’t solve my problem. 

In the end there is, to paraphrase Yoda, only forgive or not forgive.  There is only a burning resentment so intense that the fires of hell hold little terror, or release.  I have sought another option.  It does not exist.  Therefore I forgive.   

If I did happen, on some odd chance, run into this nemesis, and, if they were to offer me forgiveness, I will humbly accept it.  If they did not offer, I would ask.  As far as I am concerned, they are forgiven.  I prayed several times last night and several times already today that they would be blessed and their lives filled with happiness.  It's bless or burn.  I'll keep doing it until it is easy.

When they had passed the first and the second guard, they came to the iron gate leading into the city.  It opened for them of its own accord, and they went out and went along one street, and immediately the angel left him (Acts 12:10).

A Forked Process

But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.  For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do.  But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law. – Galatians 5:16-18

As high and holy as the Law is, as perfect as it is as a revelation, the Spirit is higher and holier.  The Law is derived from the Spirit and not the other way around.  The Law is descriptive where the Spirit is creative.  A level does not lay a beam straight; it just lets you know when it is straight.  We are at liberty, not because we are lawbreakers, but because we embody the Law:  And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.  And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules (Ezekiel 36:26-27).

There are decisions we have to make, based on imperfect information.  We can pray as long and as hard as we like.  We may have peace about what we do, yet it may not work out as we expected.  These things happen because we live in a fallen world with fallen fellow travelers who sometimes make stupid choices.  On the other hand, I think I always know when I let the old man have his way.  It’s rare – so rare I can’t think of an example – where I genuinely thought my motive was purely spiritual, and it somehow violated God’s Law. 

I am generally skeptical when I or anyone says that he had no idea that operating out of the flesh would lead to a bad outcome.  Just as an example:  do you know how much trouble it is for two married people to commit adultery?  And it’s almost as tough for a single and a married person – at least if the married one doesn’t want to get caught.  It’s not like you can go out on the town or just meet indiscriminately.  You have to think about it, plan it, and work around roadblocks.  It's quite a lot of trouble.  I attribute my own record of fidelity at least as much to laziness as virtue.  So, when someone tells me that something “just happened”, I tend to think that person is fooling himself or herself and/or trying to fool me. 

We are or should be aware of the battle that goes on within us, the incessant warring of the flesh and spirit.  I do not ever remember that not being the case in my own life.  Sometimes it seems I have the situation under control, and sometimes I feel like the Bayonne Bleeder.  What round is this?  Perhaps for some who never heard or thoroughly rejected the Gospel a false peace may be possible -- so long as they stay on their side of a DMZ, which is probably why militant atheists are militant.  For the rest of us, only a surrender to the dominion of the Spirit offers us any hope for lasting tranquility and a satisfactory resolution to our internal conflict.  It doesn’t stop the old man from offering his opinions and telling us that we be fools for not letting him run things.  But the more we live under the Spirit and the more we listen to the voice of the new man, the more at home we become, for he is aligned with the Law, and things stay where we put them. 

Loaves and Fishes, and Beer

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. -- 2 Corinthians 5:17

Today is rather busy.  This past weekend was intense, and I have been fighting fires at work since early this morning.  Still, I wanted to take a minute to mark today.  It's an anniversary.  Thirty years ago today I had my last drunken binge.  It was different.  Normally, a quiet, sleepy beer-drinking drunk, I drank a quantity of tequila that night and blacked out instead of passing out.  It might have happened before, but that time I had a reliable witness. 

I didn't go to AA, and I didn't get miraculously delivered.  I just didn't drink anymore.  I did not know Chesterton's warning against medicinal alcohol at the time, but I only drank because it was fun anyway.  I could not imagine "needing" a drink.  The very few times in the last thirty years that I have considered buying a bottle were the occasions when I would have "needed" one, so I didn't drink. 

I can't say that I miss alcohol.  I miss beer, but it's not worth the calories.  I will once in a great while have a little root beer or sarsaparilla instead.  On rare occasions I think it would be nice to end the evening with some scotch or bourbon, but since I refuse to have any in the house, the urge passes unfulfilled.  Besides, I've kind of gotten used to being mostly in my right mind — not that a drink or two really messes up anyone's thinking.  My trouble was that I always enjoyed the feeling of one or two so much that I was apt to go for three or four. 

War Song

Now war arose in heaven, Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon. And the dragon and his angels fought back, but he was defeated and there was no longer any place for them in heaven.  And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him. -- Revelation 12:7-9

War in heaven just doesn’t sound right, does it?  We have heard it, read it, seen it in the titles of books, and thus become accustomed to what must be the ultimate oxymoron, the most profound joke possible.  In the place of perfection, the ancient serpent arose in rebellion against truth, beauty, and harmony.  As unthinkable as such a revolt might be, it is the beginning of Creation.  Of all creation. 

When we see the scene in Genesis, we see the earth “without form and void” and with “darkness over the face of the deep”.  The serpent’s mutiny created chaos, but there can be no darkness and confusion in heaven.  It is not possible.  Therefore the insurgence was outside from the start.  The very thought of it could not happen without the creation – by God – of an antipode to draw out the serpent. 

God does not unmake.  Improvise is all wrong unless we are thinking about something like a musical virtuoso expanding a theme.  It seems to be God’s joy to do this.  Not going with the flow, but responding to the flow and channeling it to serve His purposes.  Satan sends a flood and God creates the Oglala Aquifer, or He builds a water-wheel to put the streams to work for good.  Every act of ugliness and revolt that the enemy perpetrates, right up to the murder of the Lord Himself is another color added to the Divine palette. 

It’s why we have to live by faith.  We are part of the vast tapestry, and, except now and then, for brief moments of ecstasy, we never really get to see what is going on.  We can’t get high enough.  To see the face of God and remain in material existence is not possible.  Once we see Him we can’t stop seeing Him – as John says, “… when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.”  We are not collateral damage; we are collateral harmony. 

Have faith in God.

Fool's Gold and Chains

 Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. -- 1 Peter 2:16

How high would be the wall to imprison an eagle?

We should live as people who are free because, as we are in Christ, we are free.  The only bondage in life is sin along with its adherents and consequences, and by His Cross, Jesus set us free from both the penalty and power of sin.  

 If I had to boil down my definition of evil to its essence it would be taking the freedom of another – through intimidation, manipulation, oppression, theft, mayhem or murder.  The means, legal or otherwise, are unimportant.  Hemming someone in and denying them their rightful choices as a fellow human being is evil.  Taking what belongs to someone else by force, stealth or subterfuge is taking a part of that person’s life, robbing them of the time they invested in serving, cultivating, or creating. 

I tend to think Peter would agree with me.  He told Cornelius about Jesus by saying:  He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.  That is our mission as well:  to set people free.  We are liberators in a world of slavery.  Our weapon is truth.  Faith is our shield, and prayer is our line of communication. 

What we fight mostly, in ourselves and in those around us, is deception.  We lie to one another and very often to ourselves.  We deceive ourselves as to our true condition and attempt to convince both the world and our own hearts that we are happy in the shackles we wear.  It is why some of the saddest, most miserable people on the planet call themselves “gay”, for example. 

There is no question in my mind that people who were yet in their chains to one degree or another helped to liberate me.  Christians are usually not chained down so much as chained to -- like Jake and Elwood -- a briefcase full of blues.  I am guilty.  We can still be on a mission from God while dragging that around, but there’s really no need for it.  Jesus wasn’t shackled to a trunk, a suitcase, a briefcase, a knapsack, or a fanny-pack.  His liberty still liberates us today.

Think (Freedom).

The Agreement

Agree with God, and be at peace; thereby good will come to you. -- Job 22:21

If we are made in the “image and likeness” of God, how can we know who we are without knowing Him?  How can we know Him without being willing to accept who we are?  This is not a catch we can resolve apart from God’s revelation of Himself, and such an unveiling disturbs the pride and self-sufficiency of man. 

When we see the holiness and power of the Almighty in contrast to our sin, weakness, and mortality, we are abashed and without hope that we could ever meet His standards.  Simply reading through the Sermon on the Mount is enough to leave the swiftest and most ardent pursuer of God gasping in the dust.  But this is who we are in Christ.  The Cross makes all the difference, the exchange of His life for our death, His strength for our weakness, His conquest for our defeat. 

All the Lord asks is that we agree with Him, accept His revelation – especially of Himself in Christ Jesus.  We will never find peace in this world until we acquaint ourselves with Him. 

And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit (2 Corinthians 3:18)