Monday, August 27, 2012

A Ramble About Ascension

Daniel Jackson: “Maybe I've done something good every now and again, but nothing I've ever done seems to have changed anything.”

Oma Desala: “These tasks of which you speak were great challenges, perhaps even impossible to achieve.”

Daniel Jackson: “Does that absolve me?”

Oma Desala: “Do you feel you journey must continue until you have found redemption for these failures?”

Daniel Jackson: “Nope. Not anymore. Not if I'm dead.”

Oma Desala: “Exactly true.”
Stargate: SG-1, “Meridian”

This dialogue is from what is perhaps my favorite episode from the series “Stargate: SG-1”. The episode is also my wife's least favorite because in it a much loved main character dies horribly from lethal radiation exposure. But in those moments before death he is visited by someone he had met before, an old friend you might say. She is a member of a race of people that learned to shed their physical form and “ascend” to a higher plane of existence as pure energy. This particular ascended being had then spent thousands of years helping others to do the same thing when they were ready to die and leave their mortal existence behind, and now she was here for Daniel in his final moments to help him. In other words, she was there to help him ascend and become like her.

But Daniel doesn't believe himself to be worthy of it. Part of the journey of ascension for him is that he must release his burden, and for him, this means letting go of his guilt and perceived failures as well as letting go of the mortal life he clung to so he could follow her in ascension. Eventually, she does guide him to the understanding which allows him to let everything go and follow her, becoming a being of pure light.

This idea of the need to die and release everything you're clinging to in order to achieve salvation isn't new, and it isn't confined to science fiction:

“Because whoever would wish to deliver his psyche will destroy it; and whoever would destroy his psyche for mine and the Gospel's sake will deliver it.” (Mark 8:35)

This saying is found, almost word for word, six times in all four Gospels. Twice in Matthew (10:39, 16:25), Twice in Luke (9:24, 17:33), once in Mark (8:35), and once in John (12:25). By anyone's definition of textual criticism, liberal or conservative, this would mark this as something that Jesus Christ not only actually said, but that it was so important to them, the Gospel writers repeated it again and again. (Though not well known, “psyche” is the transliteration of the Greek word used in all six occurrences, and is the most accurate translation of the word as well because, in its strictest sense, it encompasses the emotions, the reasonings, the soul, the memories, and the physical being of the person, and not just the mind or the soul.)

Submission to death and the letting go of the things of this mortal life are fundamental concepts of the path of Jesus Christ. St. Paul wrote about it several times in his epistles, beginning with the letter to the Romans:

“Or are you ignorant that, as many of us as were baptized into Christ Jesus, were baptized into His death? We were therefore entombed together with Him through the baptism into His death, so that just as Christ was awakened from the dead through the glory of the Father, so also we should walk in newness of life. Because if we have become grown together in the resemblance of His death, but also will we be of His resurrection; knowing this that our old human being was co-crucified so that the body of the sin disorder would be abolished, for us to no longer be enslaved to the disorder; because the person who died has been acquitted from the sin disorder. And if we died together with Christ, we believe that we will also live together with Him, knowing that Christ having been awakened from the dead is no longer mortal, death has dominion over Him no longer. So also you figure yourselves to be dead indeed to the sin disorder yet living to God in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 6:3-11)

Death acquits a person from sin. The dead man no longer worries about the guilt and failures in his life. He no longer worries about what he did wrong or right. The sentence for his mistakes in life has already been carried out. Death has absolved him. As Sirach says in 41:4 “There is in Hades no inquiry into your life.” (SAAS) Yet in spite of this, the dead man must still face the natural separation from the things of life he clung to, being unable by nature to sense or recognize the God who surrounds him with His love. Thus Jesus Christ, and His death and resurrection.

St. Paul's argument is this, those of us who were baptized were grafted into His death on the cross. We therefore shouldn't continue in the way we lived before this baptism, being subject to the sin disorder, because we died when we were baptized, and the person who died has been acquitted from the sin disorder. But his argument goes further in that just as we were joined to the death of Christ, so would we be joined to His resurrection. Just as Christ was raised immortal, so would we be raised immortal, if we died with Him; if we accepted our death, and let go of this world and stopped clinging to it.

This thinking was central in St. Paul's understanding of what the path of Jesus Christ was all about. In his letters to the Galatians and the Colossians, he brings it up as the lynchpin of his arguments which all of his instruction hangs on:

“I was co-crucified with Christ; and I live no longer; but Christ lives within me; and that which I now live in the flesh, I live by the Faith of the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself over for me.” (Galatians 2:20)

“But let there be absolutely no boast for me except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom the world is crucified to me and I to the world.” (Galatians 6:14)

“If you died together with Christ from the basic elements of the world, why are you dogmatizing as living in the world? Don't handle neither taste neither touch, all of which is for the decay to consumption, according to the commands and teachings of human beings, which things are a word indeed having wisdom in self-made religion and humility and severe discipline of a body, not in anything valuable against the gratification of the flesh. If then you were awakened together with Christ, look for the things on high, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God; be mindful of the things on high, not the things upon the ground. Because you died and your life has been hidden together with Christ in God; when Christ your life is made to appear, then you will also be made to appear with Him in glory.” (Colossians 2:20-3:4)

In his letter to the Philippians, this death is implicit in his rejection of all the benefits of status which his ancestry and formal education brought him as he says:

“But the things which were profit to me, I lead these things loss because of Christ. But rather I also lead everything to be loss because of the superiority of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, through whom I lost everything, and lead it crap, so that I would profit Christ” (Philippians 3:7-8)

St. Paul knew that it is absolutely important that we accept the sentence of death which has been carried out on us through our union with Christ in baptism, and which is brought to completion in the death of the physical body. We must live as though already passed out of this world. It is nothing less than accepting the original sentence passed on Adam instead of futilely trying to fight it. We must be as a corpse is to the things of this world: unfeeling, disinterested, detached, unmoved, and focused upon the center of our existence, our God and Savior Jesus Christ, paying only the attention we have to in order that Christ might live His life out through us. Accepting that we no longer live, and releasing the things of the world we cling to so tightly is the only path to being joined to His resurrection.

If we reject this sentence of death and cling to our life and things of this world, we incur judgment to ourselves, not because God is cruel or because He wants to condemn us, but because after death the object of our clinging has ceased from our experience and we go insane, or rather our insanity is brought to its culmination, total separation from everything else but God, and unable to welcome or recognize God Himself.

Jesus Himself pleads for this and warns about it in the Gospel of John:

“Stay in Me, and I within you. Just as the branch isn't capable of producing fruit from itself except it should stay in the vine, so neither you if you don't stay within Me. I am the vine, you the branches. This person who stays within Me and I within him produces a lot of fruit, because without Me you are not capable of doing anything at all. If anyone doesn't stay within Me, he has been thrown out as a branch and has been withered and they gather them together and throw them into the fire and they are burned.” (15:4-6)

We see this acceptance of death in the lives of many if not most of the lives of the recognized saints. The more one accepts this death with Christ and turns away from the things of the world, the more Christ-like one becomes and the closer to His resurrection one gets. The more one welcomes the things of the world, clings to them, and fights against death, any death, the farther from Christ one becomes, and the farther from His resurrection. It is movement one way or the other. If you welcome your death with Christ you are absolved of your disorder. If you turn away from it, your disorder grows with all the consequences thereof.

The only path to ascension, as Daniel discovered, was by letting go. The only path to resurrection is by accepting one's death.


(Except where noted, all translations from Scripture are mine.)

Monday, August 13, 2012

A Ramble About Knighthood


I was browsing the shelves at Goodwill the other day and came upon an old friend. It's a small paperback volume called “The Legend of Huma,” which is a part of the “Dragonlance” series of books published by TSR. I loved these books when I was in early High School, although I later gave them up when I felt I needed to for a while in order to concentrate on Christian things. I read “The Legend of Huma” during a time when the Lord had really started to call me towards Him, and Huma, the main character, had become a kind of hero for me when I was fourteen because of his devotion to his god and his beliefs. I remember consciously almost praying at that time that I wanted to do or be for my God what Huma had done for his.

The story of Huma is set in the fantasy world of Krynn, where there are gods, monsters, knights, elves, dwarves, and most of the familiar personages and characters you would find from contemporary epic fantasy. Huma, in the story is a Knight of Solamnia, a holy order of knights which was established by the god Paladine (the chief god of good), and his sons Kiri-Jolith and Habbakuk. The knights live their lives by a strict religious code of chivalry, loyalty, honor, and virtue which had been given to them by their gods in order to hold back the darkness of the evil gods of Krynn.

As I became acquainted with this old friend again over the past couple of days there were a couple of lines which caught my eye and set me thinking. In the passage, Huma's friend and love interest is torn between her duty and her love for Huma. She must lead Huma to a set of trials which, if he fails he will die, but if he succeeds he will find the key to defeating the armies of darkness which have overrun his world:

“Were it not Krynn itself that would suffer, I would tell you to turn from here now, before it is too late.”

The knight stiffened. “Even if you told me to, I would not. I cannot. Not—and remain what I am.”

“Is the knighthood so much to you?”

“Not the knighthood. What it teaches.” He had never thought of it in those terms before.
(p. 184, Knaak, Richard A. The Legend of Huma. Lake Geneva, WI; TSR Inc., 1988)

It's this last line which caught my attention, “not the knighthood. What it teaches.” It wasn't the fact he was a knight which meant something to him, nor was it the order of knights themselves. As with any organization, no matter how honorable or well meaning their intentions, there was often a difference between what they stood for and taught and the internal workings and politics of the order which at times actually went completely against the teachings of their gods. Fallible human beings remain fallible human beings, even in fantasy novels. It wasn't the organization of fallible human beings that meant anything to Huma, but the teachings of his god which that organization represented.

The priesthood of the Church is also made up of fallible human beings. It doesn't matter which denomination you look in you'll still find internal politicking, selfish ambitions, avarice, political interference outside of the denomination, and abuses of every kind. It varies from local church to local church, from diocese to diocese, and from denomination to denomination, but it can usually be found to some degree or another in just about any church you look in. It is because of these things that many have left the local churches altogether, switch denominations, and some leave the Church and even our Lord completely. They have lost faith in either their church in particular, or the Church in general and feel betrayed and lost.

It doesn't help the situation, and hurts a great deal, when churches and denominations “circle the wagons” and hide as much of these failings as possible from the general public. I have a dear friend who grew up as a missionary kid in Papua New Guinea with one of the largest, most well known and well respected missions organizations in the world for which her parents were missionaries. For a long time after meeting her we knew that something wasn't quite right. When other friends and I were finally able to get her to talk about why, she told us that one of her close friends had been raped by a gang of New Guineans who had broken into the Mission compound there. This was bad enough, but the Mission board had made her and everyone else who knew about it swear silence on the subject, and they weren't allowed to talk about it to anyone. It had so traumatized our friend that she became self-destructive.

Beyond this are the now well known cases of sexual abuse by members of the Roman Catholic clergy, and the subsequent denials and cover-up by the leadership of the various dioceses and possibly by the Vatican itself. There is also the merciless emotional abuse inflicted by certain, domineering evangelical churches upon their members. There is also the inconceivable avarice and vanity of some “pastors” living in wealth and luxury and plastering their picture and name all over their houses of worship to the point where you wonder who the congregation is actually worshiping. I could go on with more indictments against just about every church and organization I have seen, but it isn't necessary. Most people have only to look at their own local church with an honest and critical eye.

I have been finding it instructive to look back at the lives of the Saints as well. Though the Church hails them now as examples and heroes of the Faith, during their lives many were the targets of the local clergy for abuse and derision. St. Ignatius of Loyola was hounded by the Inquisition in Spain and thrown in prison on the suspicions of local priests and monks. Because of his extreme dedication to Jesus Christ and his embrace of a life of poverty, many people chose to adhere to his rule and practice his Spiritual Exercises which caused dramatic changes to their lives and devotion to Christ. It scared the local clergy and authorities who then reacted to try and re-establish the status quo. St. Ignatius was labeled a troublemaker and was verbally and physically abused for no other reason than he lived and practiced what Jesus Christ and His Church actually taught.

So then the question for many becomes, “Is the Church so much to you?” Another way of saying this question is, “Is it so important for you to remain within the Church that you are willing to risk all of this?” For many now, the answer has become “no.” They can only see what the visible Church is as the human beings within it practice it, and it is a great disillusionment and disappointment.

For St. Ignatius though, it wasn't the practical, visible Church itself, but what the Church teaches that meant everything to him. It wasn't the clergy who berated him which meant anything, but the God who established that clergy and the rule of Faith which bound them both. Much like Huma with his knighthood.

The greatest question, or one of them anyway, which we can ask ourselves is “why do we do what we do?” The answer to that question will either see us through the tests and trials which could cost us everything in this world, or it will trip us up and see not only our bodies destroyed but our souls as well. We can either dedicate ourselves to the fallible human beings in an organization, or we can dedicate ourselves to the teachings of the God who established it.