The moon rests just the same over New Orleans and Indonesia. The gutters of Japan bucket out the last of their dead onto a radio active ocean. The tsunami heaps onto its record - a prized fighter finding punching his opponents down for count after count. Africa is baked in tyranny as children are fatherless due to years of civil war and bombs burst all over the air.
Resurrection is a subject that is central to the Christian narrative. Lewis addresses the idea of resurrection in his stories (Aslan and Eustace come to mind, for example), in his theological works, and in his letters. In this simple series of articles during Lent, I want to point out several occasions where Lewis discusses resurrection with hopes that his take on the subject might better refine ours as we head into Easter.
Shel Silverstein’s famous giving tree tale points out the gravity that bends us to the ground… to sit, to retrace our steps, to finally die. If you believe nature is cursed with death, you might likewise find aging as a standard fare, but maybe it’s not. The only difference between death and life is breathing. Nothing more.
Trace back. Cain and Abel began the dance with great flare. What follows? The drunkenness of Noah; Abram’s lack of faith; the sin of Lot’s daughters; Isaac and Rebecca playing of favorites; the neglect of Jacob for his other sons; God’s rebuke of Eli for he honored his sons above his faith; the spear that divided Saul from Jonathan…
It began in the orange grove. They were too young to realize that their curiosity had blind-alley eyes. The earth tone pickup truck melted into the turns and weaves of squatty trees that dripped its fruit. Michael’s adolescent senses naturally hunted for a solace space to take his girl. He was a hound sniffing out the chase.
The death of legend Michael Jackson fell near the legendary anniversary of the moon walk. Forty years ago the earth's skin ripped open with a rocket's red glare, bursting out to discover what the moon is made of. "Is it cheese?" asks Wallace. "Is there a man up there?" asks the nursery song. We didn't know. A whole civilization could be looking down at us this entire time, eating cheese and wondering what on earth might be going on... well... on Earth.
“Son,” a voice says. A shadowy figure rustles the darkness in the damp corner and steps forward. Nearby is the lifeless body of Jesus. A few days ago his body was plucked off its crucified perch and given over to Joseph and put into an empty crypt, under a sky swirling with angels. Now this earthen cavity is swollen with two godheads inside.
Faith is trust in something or someone, and that trust involves a positive and a negative element. The positive element is all that I think I know about that thing or person, all the warrants I have to believe that this canoe or this babysitter is trustworthy. The negative element is the genuine uncertainty of the situation, in that I cannot be entirely sure that the canoe won’t fail when I get into it, or that the babysitter won’t make a mistake to the harm of my child. So faith is anchored in knowledge and then is cantilevered over the unknown.
Ansul, Mari, and Abe. Three dueling friends who knew well what defined them as different. Before the annals of history, they lived alone, not used up nor found useless. They nourished each other in most natural ways. Since Mari had plenty of water to spare, he shared it with Abe and in turn, he would receive warmth from his older, wiser brother.
Tolerance is king today. Coexist. Harmonize your habitat. Shake it, shake it, Salome... but not too much. We want to avoid filling platters with our own necks. And to avoid such ends, we exchange statements from "I know" to "I think I know." Why? Because the arch-enemy of tolerance is arrogance, and who wants to be a bastard child to that cold word?
No wonder Jesus liked children. Their naivety allows questions that carry no inhibition. I was telling our children the story about David finding Saul in a cave and he... “pulls out his big sword and slices his head off...” interrupted our seven-year-old. “No, no,” I responded. “Do you know what happens?” I asked with no response. “Most of us would take advantage of the moment especially because Saul was chasing David so he could kill him. But David doesn’t do that. He only cuts off a piece of the king’s cloak and leaves him to his dreaming.”
