Dissatisfied with selflessness

Question:

"I like to party. I like it when things go my way. I don't like to work. I don't like it when things don't go my way. How can I be a satisfied Christian and still be… ME?"

Answer:

_______________ . . .

WorldView Conversation: London: end of 'Christian civilization'?

WorldView Conversation: London: end of 'Christian civilization'?

What's the deal with "Londistan"?

What world am I in? or: “4 factors that lead me to read old stuff”

Consciousness: I think about more than I need to think about to just survive. I am self aware. I seem to be able to perceive some degree of reality and I can imagine other than reality. That does not even remotely find satisfaction in materialistic explanations. The fact that I can and do imagine, and have aspirations of meaning etc., keep me from imagining how eternal matter/energy over time could create a 'me'. Something spiritual, personhood beyond mere materialism, seems compelling and intuitive.

I am spirit from a Spirit.

Physical: The world is real. People who have argued against the reality of the physical, and then succumbed to physical mortality, have done more in dying to confirm the reality of the physical world than any written rebuttals to their works might have. The physical is real and is quite chronically insisting that it be acknowledged in daily appetite, aches etc.

I am a physical being.

Community: I like people until I don't. The problem comes when I fail to contribute/interact appropriately and feel embarrassed or when they fail to contribute/interact appropriately and I feel offended. There really is a sense of 'right and wrong'. It is more than mere pragmatism, though there are all sorts of practical implications, good and bad. There is a more than practical point of pain/pleasure, of meaningful virtue or disheartening vice (in me or others) that makes me acknowledge that any understanding of life that does not address community is lacking.

I am a social/ethical being.

History: I live in a chain of cause and effect. The realities in the past, for me, for my communities and the communities of others, all continually shape life as it unfolds. There is no immediate understanding of life. Understanding requires some degree of sweeping inclusion of very old and distant movements (in physics and history (earthly and spiritually)).

I am a connected being.

If I pause, I end up with the following conviction:

I am a spiritual being from a Spirit. I live in a physical body in a physical world. I need to figure out how to wisely related to myself by learning to relate to my spiritual source ("God"), my physical source (the "cosmos"), in relation to other people (interpersonal ethics and identity) with an awareness of how previous realities are impacting current realities (historical consequences).

When I take the time to reflect on that, reading the Old Testament, or the Gospels, seems quite natural. If I am just enamored with the flashing lights of the current technologically globally interconnected world community, reading such old stuff seems odd. Reflection is good. I think I'll read The Book of Hebrews now.

no tribe

The warmth of the blankets would not be enough. Time encroached and security eluded him. The day clunked toward him with unevenness. No real dangers, no real dreams, only a stream of minor decisions and minor consequences; hardly a siren's call.

Reluctantly he acknowledged himself, connecting his unsatisfied mind to his increasingly unhungry body. The creep of the mundane almost lurched as he forced himself upright. The rush of blood to the head pushed a swirling reminder that he was entangled with biology, not pure mind. He was a part of the realm of stuff, and not feeling very patriotic about it. And so, the day began.

What was wrong? No tribe.

image: http://mattiasa.deviantart.com/art/moleskine-35923344

People aint' no good? What about dead sons...

Hope (in response to: People just ain't no good)

If Nick Cave (and the cast of Shrek II) are right about singing "people ain't no good", what hope is there? Plenty. In fact, that is the last point of the gospel I came to understand before surrendering my life to Jesus, the Christ.

I used to think: God is good, people can be good or bad, if people are good they go to be with God, if they are bad they go to hell with their rowdy friends and sing bad songs with the devil. Actually, I didn't think that was true, I just thought it was what Christians thought was true. I thought that was silly.

What I have come to think is different. I came to think that living like you just don't care is only exciting when you are able to feed off of the energy of other people being concerned that you live like you just don't care. Of course, the problem with that is you have to care enough about them noticing you apparently not caring for the whole thing to work.

When you live like you just don't care because you really don't, so much so that you don't even notice if anyone is concerned about your self-destructive ways, life really hurts. Its like the flu, really. You just cannot get settled, and even the medication just changes the sick feelings, it doesn't really remove them.

I got to that point, for a while, and I knew I didn't want it. That is when I started to hear the gospel differently. What I eventually heard was:

People, in and of themselves, well, they ain't all that good. But, Jesus, who was in fact a 'people' just like us, actually was good. In him we see a life of the possible being lived actually. I think of screwed up people I have loved. To avoid embarrassment of dipping into people's personal stories, I'll choose a fictional character who represents people I have loved and wished their lives would have turned out better. (BTW, by 'love' I mean in the brotherly way, not the romantic way).

Robert Redford directed a story which propelled Brad Pitt to fame. It was called A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT. Part of the story is about Redford's love of nature, and his balance of wisdom expressed in fly fishing, but that is a different issue. The part of the story that grips me is about the son of a preacher who is gloriously alive, defiant, mischievous, scandalous… he is great, but he just ain't no good. The Pitt character is a handful for his dad, and an enigma to his brother, and fatal to himself. Eventually the Pitt character's refusal to be tamed leads to his death at the hands of people who really don't care that Pitt 'just doesn't care' and they beat him to death. The only solace to the father is an odd one. The father asks his brother who saw the corpse, "did you see his knuckles?" He is reassured that his defiant son died in defiance. Well, at least he has that. ?!#&*@!

The story is really touching because, well, it touches truth. People may be lacking in virtue, but the glory of their defiant will is enchanting and we love them almost because of their defiance. What is that? That is the image of God; the will. The problem is that the image of God in fallen humanity is not able to lift itself up. The unfallen must lift the fallen. Jesus is the glory of the Pitt character without the fallen-ness. He is strong and decisive, nobody's "yes-man". He gives his life to a cause because he chooses to, not because it is chosen for him. The solace for his father? That the son did not change his character in death, but died in expression of his character. The difference, of course, is that it was his outstretched hands, not his knuckles, which represented the loving son died in love. Well, at least we have that!