THE END: Judgment, Resurrection, Burning and That Jazz

It’s been a little while since I posted anything—caught up with leaving DC (there was great sorrow) and family stuff before heading back to school (great rejoicing?).

Prof. X wearing Cerebro, reaching a zen state and maybe reliving his entire life or something.

Anyway, this will be sort of a general overview of Last Days-Judgment-Armageddon-Resurrection stuff, with future posts going more in depth into each of those areas (at least that’s the plan, so look forward to that.).

Part of my view for THE END is colored by my overall view of history. I generally view history in a Hegelian fashion—moving forward and upward, but in a cyclical spiral motion, repeating trends and things from the past, but in slightly different iterations. I think for the most part we are living in a time that is better than that of ages past. This is not to say that there is nothing to learn from studying history. On the contrary, I think looking to the past can give us valuable insights into the workings of the world. We can be aware of the implications of decisions by drawing parallels. Obviously there is some limit to this as it is extremely rare for circumstances to match up exactly and the differences may drastically alter the outcome.

All of that is to say that I don’t really subscribe to the whole ‘world is going to Hell in a handbasket’ framework. Sure, there are awful people doing awful things. But, I have more faith in humanity than that. Generally, I think we’re a more loving, just, merciful, Christ-like world. (At least until I read comment sections I can hold that view pretty solidly.)

It seems to me that there are two components to the Second Coming. First, a bunch of really wicked people that get burned to a crisp. Second, some really righteous people that are so good Satan is powerless (that’s one reading, anyway).  I feel like most talk of the Second Coming typically focuses on the first component, warning us not to be wicked and to pay our tithing for fire insurance (ha ha ha. Seminary jokes are the best…). I think it may be more helpful to focus on the second, but that’s just me.

JUDGMENT. What an imposing word, especially in all caps. I still haven’t settled on a view of judgment that is completely satisfying for me (particularly because TIME. How are we all supposed to be judged in some intimate, individual, incredibly personal experience? There are billions of people. I mean, maybe judgment’s already happening, but I don’t know), but I’ll sort of sketch out the general principles that I think will be a part of it and some ideas that I’ve had that make sense to me.

 So here’s kind of what I think, it’s a little out there and the specifics aren’t that important, but I like them. When it’s your turn you go into some incredibly comfortable room, probably surrounded by bookshelves, walking on thick, shag carpet to be greeted by Jesus with a huge grin and welcoming hug. Kindness beams from his eyes as he hands you some celestial food (popcorn and chocolate milk are good candidates), motioning for you to take a seat in the most comfortable chair you can imagine. You take a seat and then the lights dim and some crazy holographics come up (a bit like when Xavier uses Cerebro to search for mutants). Only this follows your life. There are some bars across the top that show your spirituality, sensitivity to the Light of Christ/Holy Ghost, along with a set of boxes that need to be checked corresponding to various ordinances of salvation. As you interact with people you see chain reactions in varying colors. You realize that the colors correspond to whether the impact you had was positive or negative. The images flash by, sometimes pausing to show an extended benefit or harm to an individual, often people that you had no idea you touched the way you did.  Perhaps these people even come in and out of the room thanking you for the impact that you had on their lives. It’s a very touching experience.

The film draws to a close and then Jesus comes back in and you chat a bit. At this point you receive whatever Kingdom you will be most comfortable in, or earned, or deserve or something like that.

Now, a brief thought on resurrection. People seem to emphasize the perfect frame aspect, which I think has a much stronger spiritual component than physical. Sure, your body will be ‘perfect’, but I think the range of perfect bodies is quite large. Perhaps this is because I sort of like my physical peculiarities (my crooked pinkies most notably). Anyway, that’s the gist—probably perfection in a harmony of the physical and spiritual rather than appearance.

That’s a wrap.

DC Reflections: Slamming Poetic

Here are some thoughts that I had as I pondered my experience in DC. Dedicated to all of you who read this and probably many that won't. Presented in a sort of poetic style, different than my typical prose entries.

Reflections. Not quite what the title refers to, but maybe.

My time in the district draws to a close

I’ve been here not long, but enough to compose

I wish I could stay, but the best I can do is promise to come back

I’ve got other places to be, people to see, promises to keep.

Part of me will stay here, in the streets where I walked

On the poles of the metro, the rail on the escalators, and through the metal detectors

It doesn’t really make sense, but it’s true.

The little things will remind me of my word.

I am drawn to the city, with its gridlock and partisan politicking

The frustration pulls me in, grabbing hold of me and keeping me here

I can’t let go, I can’t look away.

Like a train wreck about to happen, I’m glued to the scene

What’s next?

Why?

I’m disillusioned and disenchanted with the system.

Disheartened with the brokenness.

Politics is a religion and I’ve lost my faith.

Yet I can’t get out.

Some spark of belief remains.

A tiny flame, waiting to be blown into something more.

The spark withstands the torrential downpours of discouragement.

I walk the gilded halls of the Capitol, and something stirs within.

It feels right.

It feels true.

Whatever that means.

How can the building feel true?

Is it the building that gives the feeling of truth?

Or is it what those gilded, tiled floors represent?

The spirit of freedom lives.

In the quiet hours, when the press are silent and the Tea Party’s over, I can feel something there.

It feels true. There’s no other way to put it.

Life.

Liberty.

And the Pursuit of Happiness.

Those things still ring true in those tourist-worn corridors.

And maybe that’s why I have to come back.

To pick up and brush off the dream that’s been trampled and forgotten.

To put aside the left and the right and find the American.

I know we’re there, waiting to explode our powers.

When the moments right, we’ll be ready.

We’re waiting.

Hoping for the day to come when that arc of the moral universe bends all the way toward justice.

I’ve got to do my part.

Grab a hold of that arc and pull it down, bringing it right up to Lady Justice.

We’ve all got something to do.

And we can only do it together. I need you.

The Moral Universe needs you.

To stop injustice everywhere- You are needed.

Really? I sometimes ask myself.

What can I do?

I’m just a tall, scrawny, privileged white guy

How can I fight the system?

I am the system.

I don’t want to destroy myself.

But, I can change myself.

Follow those wise words- ‘be the change you want to see in the world’.

I can change. Changing the system, bit by bit.

That drive, that hope for change.

That’s the real spark.

That’s what keeps my faith going.

Not words on a page.

Not the works of the top dogs.

But the goodness and realness of you. All of you.

Thank you.