It's been a while since I've written anything concerning faith. I'm at a confusing crossroads in my life right now, and like most times of difficulty, religion is finding itself shuffled to the back of my mind. But, as is true with almost all problems, an hour or two in a quiet diner with coffee and a good book can bring some true illumination.
I've struggled most often with the paradox of my particular branch of Christianity. For those who don't know, I consider myself a Protestant, and in a Calvinist branch of thinking known as Presbyterian. When it comes to actual knowledge of my faith, I've taken enough classes on theology to know that I know almost nothing about theology, but I can understand a few terms and what they mean. Chief among them is a basic tenant of the Prostestant life: Sola Gratia, "By Grace Alone". The idea that God is so perfect, that Christ is so wondrous, that everything we say, or do, or even think, is the refuse of a kegger left in the bathroom stall for three weeks. Not pretty.
For this way of life, there is no getting into Heaven. We're not buying a stairway, or climbing a ladder. We're the line of Chinese toys, hoping that our supervisor Jesus is saying Heaven instead of the garbage bin that is Hell. Either way, there's nothing we can do to help.
Weird as it may seem, I do believe in this. I would like to think I have some input in the resting place of my eternal soul, truly. But I feel like I have the same power in determining my salvation, as I do when I place my hands in the ocean and will the tide to turn. Simply impossible. My soul is in Christ's hands.
Great. Crisis averted, salvation is God's alone. Now what do I do with the rest of my life? I can't help myself get into Heaven, and yet I still feel it's wrong to live my life like a live-action version of Grand Theft Auto. I don't know what God wants of me, or even what I want of me.
This is the closest I've come to an answer: there is a certain duality in our natures. I hope, I pray, that one day - many, many years from now - I'll be standing at the pearly gates. AC/DC will be blasting, while Angus Young is laughing his head off at how wrong they were about where they were heading, and the dress code is not just white robes. I hope it will be even more awesome than that. Regardless, until (or if) that day comes, I am a creature of God. I am living in this place, this wondrous place, by His will and compassion. And I want to be good, do good, in thanks. Not for salvation, or even damnation. I want to be thankful for life.
I believe life is a gift in itself, something that no being can truly express. Ladies and gentlemen, we've all had this same dream as children. Our parents drove us down south to Disneyland. There are plenty of people so it doesn't feel like a ghost town, but there are no lines. Perfect weather, cool breeze, Goofy looks like he actually might be in a good mood, and Space Mountain is ours for the taking. Our parents turn to us, hand us a thousand dollars and say those magical words: "Have fun".
Here's the kicker: God has done this for us, with the entire planet. We are free to do as we please, build as we please, in something of His creation. We've conquered and shaped this world as we have seen fit. And never a word has been said against us. How sweet life is.
Live in this life, love this life. We have a world that continues to grow, amaze, change before our lives, and we have decades with which to enjoy it. This can be seen as the greatest treasure we shall ever receive. I hope to live it to the fullest.
Before you all walk away from the blog of the Happy-go-lucky-Christian Boy, I'm not entirely naive. I'll live, and I'll laugh. I'll also scream, cry, hate, moan, and wish with all my heart for an anvil to just drop on somebody's head (or Washington's collectively, but that's for a later post). I am human, after all. I'm going to screw this up.
But what I'm beginning to understand is that life on this world is a gift with no strings attached, and we should treat it as such. Use it constantly, abuse it a little. Love it, hate it, do everything to it. Make sure it ends up on Facebook more often than not. But at then end of our collective days, when you have to put away the gift of this world for good, try and leave it in a better shape than you received. That's gratitude.
Stay Strange, Folks.
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