adios amigos, adios

Behold, the end of the blog has come.
No longer am I musing to myself, doubting every word I write.

May we never lose our wonder.

May you too be absolutely taken in like this and turned around and set back on course.

May you lose all things you cling to for dear life, that will never float you on the ocean.

G'day to ya.

Nay, may we meet again on the other side.

Jainism - or anything else really

Does it bring life?

Does it ring true?

What is its highest value and the centre around which is revolved?

What is the goal? What is the means to that end?

What greater worldview/philosophy does it fit into? Is this worldview consistent with the actual reality? Can it at all be reconciled with reality or is it on another plane of existence entirely constructed in the minds of the believers? i.e. Is there any external evidence to this belief system?

Is the basic philosophy of this belief system internally consistent, or does it contradict itself? If it contradicts itself, does it cease to be a viable and trustworthy belief system/worldview or can these contradictions be reconciled? What is an absolute contradiction and what is an irrelevant contradiction and how should one differentiate?

What is meaning? Why is it important? Why do we test beliefs according to facts? Why is there the concept that facts and truth function in separate areas of life and should not be confused? When did we start to separate the two ideas from one another? Is there such a thing as a truth gradient? Is there such a thing as an irrelevant fact? What would it be irrelevant to? Are facts relevant? What to? Are they relevant to truth?

What is truth?

Is truth the most relevant fact, or does it not need external relevance to substantiate itself? Is it in fact relevant without needing to be relevant? How can truth need to be anything, whether relevant or irrelevant? Is it truth that needs substantiation, or is it our human need to find and investigate and derive and prove that the world holds together in some way? Does truth need to be acknowledged in order to be true?

Jainism after all

I do still feel compelled, however, to do as I said I would and explain why I don't  believe in Jainism.

A question that I believe to be a good test of any philosophy of life is does it bring life? In other words, does it lead to greater goodness, stronger and more genuine love, and revelation of truth in the lives of those who adhere to it, or does it lead in the other direction?

In Jainism, there is a concept known as Moksha where one annihilates all karma (good and bad) and become a Siddha (one that has attained the ultimate goal). They can then go on to Moksha where their souls are finally freed from the endless cycle of birth and death (reincarnation), and ultimately achieve it’s pure self.

That, in a nutshell, is what Jainism is all about. - www.modernjainism.com/testimony/

What I consider to be the primary problem with Jainism, as with all religion*, is that it is inherently selfish. In Jainism the point is to reach Moksha. Most religions have the idea that some sense of 'heaven' can be acheived - whether Paradise, enlightenment, Moksha, or the like, Some religions, such as Christianity and Islam, also believe in an alternative which involves eternal pain. This alternative, the consequence of failing to please God, then inspires fear in the members and drives them to work harder for their place in paradise.

How the Jesus-movement differs, is that once relationship with Jesus is entered, heaven (or 'salvation') is already secured, so there should be no more striving. All good deeds are not done in order to merit a place in heaven, or to outweigh the bad ones. Rather, good deeds are done because they are good, because they benefit another, and because as our love for Jesus grows so does our desire to be like him. This is love -  to give or do for the benefit of another, at cost to yourself and not for your own gain.

Unfortunately, members of the Jesus movement, those who know him and are known by him, very easily fall into a fearful religious mentality where they return to their old ways of trying to earn God's favour and their own merit and in doing so misrepresent who he is and what his love means. I am one of these, but I hope I will learn quickly to rest in his love and already-pleased-ness instead of striving for what cannot be earned.

* Religion -  a human system of serving a philosophy, person, God or another , usually in the interest of attaining a goal that serves personal interests.

Jesus and Jainism

Dear friend

You asked me to defend my disbelief in Jainism. I thought it better to defend my actual beliefs, to figure out a statement of defence of my faith.

The conversations we've had, among other things, has nudged me to question my beliefs, at least to ask the question why?

Why do I believe in a God, a Creator? Why do I 'give my life' to Jesus? Why do I believe in Him?

When I was fifteen years old these questions plagued me, and the thoughts whirred around and around in my head, questioning and contradicting one another, and a great fear gripped me that I don't believe, do not have the evidence to do so, and therefore am condemned. It was very scary, so scary that at times I could hardly even eat.

At a point it dawned on me, with the aid of my dad's wisdom, that I could choose to believe, and this set many fears to rest. So yes, it was a choice.

But still, why choose this way? Why choose Jesus? Why choose the God who is said to have revealed himself to Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Samuel, David and many many others?

Firstly. I believe creation is ample evidence for a Creator. It seems to make logical sense that existence does not come from non-existence, and that complex systems are made by intelligent beings, and that life does not come from non-life. Stands to reason that there is an intelligent being behind it, who breathed life into the living.

But why believe in this specific God? Why believe that the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is the creator? Why not the pantheon of Rome? Why not the Flying Spaghetti Monster?

So.. my answer to that, is Jesus. Haha, cop-out right? Swimming in circles? no.

I'm arguing from the resurrection. Jesus said that only the sign of Jonah will be given to those seeking a sign, the sign of Jonah is his death and resurrection. If Jesus was resurrected from the dead (evidence to follow), then it follows that he was no ordinary man, that supernatural powers were at work and are real, that there is more to life than we can see. His resurrection would prove his wildest claim (that he is to rise from the dead), and gives him resounding credibility.

Much research has been done with regards to his death and resurrection, more can be read here. In summary though, historical evidence suggests he died on the cross, a few days later his body 'went missing', and around five hundred people saw him alive and breathing after even more had seen him die. The fact that the resurrection accounts depict women as the first witnesses to Jesus' resurrection draws serious question to the theories that the accounts were fictional - women's witness were not considered all that credible in 1st century Middle Eastern culture. Of all the possibilities, the idea that Jesus rose from the dead seems to be the narrative best supported by historical evidence.

"The silence of history is deafening when it comes to the testimony against the resurrection" - Tom Anderson

The resurrection draws sharp attention to Jesus.  While the resurrection in itself is not conclusive proof that Jesus is the Son of God and the coming Messiah, it does demand that Jesus be given serious consideration. Upon closer investigation one finds that Jesus fulfills many prophecies given by the prophets of Israel throughout the centuries, foretelling of a Saviour and Messiah who would suffer for the salvation of his people, the fulfilment of God's promises to Abraham, the father of the faith.

Many feel that faith is a leap in the dark, a self-inflicted blindness, a mindless submission to tradition, but this need not be the case, and indeed should not. The story is told of Thomas who, shortly after Jesus resurrection, refused to believe that Jesus was alive until he had seen it with his own eyes, and had touched Jesus' wounds. To this, Jesus appeared to Thomas, and invited him to touch his wounds, to examine the evidence and see for himself that Jesus was as alive as ever.

to be unintentional

I have a thought.

I have had this thought peeking its head around corners for the last few months, reminding me of its existence, yet seeking deeper and deeper into vagueness as time went on.

The thought is this: to be unintentional*

Back in the day (about a year ago), being intentional was big in Church. Don't just let life float by you, waving at it as it passes by (thanks Johhny Depp**). Be intentional. Don't just want to read your Bible, read it. Don't just wish you'd pray more, do it. Get up at six in the morning, or at five in the afternoon, open your Bible, close your eyes, and get down to it.

Be intentional.

beintentionalbeintentionalbeintentionalbeintentionalbeintentional

My truly lovely small group leader had the words pray, love, something-else-that's-also-important, and be intentional on her pin-board. It is really cool, and really true, and she carries an authority that would be wasted without intention. Being intentional is a part of her.

And yet, true and right and very Christian as it is - being intentional - a voice in me said be unintentional.  

Be unintentional.

do you know what that means? To be intentional, as far as my little brain understood it, meant to do things that you intend to do, on purpose, with the result that those things you intended to do got done, with the result (since Church was saying it) that God's intentions were realised through our doings and becomings.

so to be unintentional? not quite the opposite. to my little heart (which sometimes strained [strains?] at the seams with intentionality and confusion about realising the Lord's intentions), to be unintentional meant to relax - to let the Lord realise his intentions without my efforts and anxiety, without me knowing what I'm doing, or trying so very hard to know and to do and to fit my puzzle piece at the right moment into the right pigeon hole so I can breathe a great deep sigh of relief that at least that was over, and hope I don't get any more assignments of the devil, to piously carry out with clenched teeth and deeply suppressed groans of frustration.

To be unintentional meant that I could sit down, take the squawking birds out my ears and my hair, and put down the suitcases I didn't know I was carrying and couldn't remember picking up in the first place, and to breath an actual cry of relief.

Sometimes repentance looks like giving up. Giving up the fight, giving up the effort, giving up the works.

And my hope was and is that when I miss it completely, and finally come to the end of my strength and admit defeat, declare that I surrender the war on me, and go take a nap, the Lord's intentions will be realised.

I have a testimony about that, which combines intentionality with unintentionality. One Sunday, on the way back from SOS, still in a bit of a daze, I walked by two ladies sitting on the sidewalk, and turned around to sit with them and talk with them and pray with them. They turned out to be Zimbabweans, new to the country. This was a non-anxiety laden encounter. I then breezily walked off, pushed myself into the nearest old-age home to ask someone (anyone!) if I could pray for them, who regarded me from above their glasses (which should have been horn-rimmed for literary effect) and begrudgingly allowed me to do so and dash out again in a flurry of righteous embarrassment. Having fled that scene, I found the ladies mentioned above in the street before the old age home, one of whom told me that her back pain too had fled the scene when I prayed for her, and where could they find my church.

So that's what I meant by unintentionality. I did not get a word of knowledge about backpain, I did not rebuke the backpain and command it to leave because I didn't know about rebuking things and I also didn't know about the backpain. I did not rummage up enough 'faith' to withstand the backpain because, as I said, I didn't know about the pain. And I didn't pray about it at all.

All I did was go with the feeling (a feeling external to myself) that I should return to them, and sat and prayed with them. And left. I think you could call it obedience. I guess that's what Sias meant when he said "God desires your obedience not your performance".

absence leaves

I have not been writing here much the last while, and this intends to change. A few months ago i had some pressing ideas which I wanted to pin down, but did not for one cowardly reason.

I realised that I might look back on what I had written and feel stupid. Or feel that I had been stupid. Now I look back on that and realise I have been stupid.

I learnt in the past few months (or the Lord taught me), that it is okay, even  good, to fail. He showed me a cracked jar, and that the light shines through the cracks. The cracks are good, serve to bring Him glory and let His light shine. This helped me immensely to relax.

I enjoy writing, and some of my thoughts are actually important and can make a difference. (What I just said is the kind of thing I would be afraid of looking back on and being ashamed of). But it's true. We all have important thoughts sometimes, that can influence each other and the world at large for the better.

I look forward to putting these thoughts into words and stringing them together and rearraging them and so forth. I hope you and the aforementioned world at large enjoys it (apparently Russia is quite interested in my blog).

:)

Secret Sevening

Today, I went for a wander. I walked about the campus, earnestly in search of the entrance to the tower, the tower that grants one vision over Jerusalem. I found the entrance and it was decidedly like one of those abandoned towers one finds in the Secret Seven or the Hardy Boys. The dusty glass doors were shut tight and the shutters hung askew. Had there been rays of sunlight to fall through the dirty glass panes, dust motes would have been lit up as they floated in that leisurely fashion so reminiscent of abandoned buildings.

But the Secret Seven never give up. This was only more reason to set off on a search for that promised view, and set off they did. I thought the security of my venture slightly devious dubious, but that did not thwart me on my journey of discovery. Behind the tower, an ancient chair of black plastic adorned the outdoor living room of some highly suspect individual who was evidently trying to hide something (like the quiet spot and the chair for instance). The chair was placed on a trapdoor of some sort, evidently to distract attention from it, and distract it did for no one thought of moving the chair and descending to the deep dark depths of who knows where. Instead they belted it out of there to find a place less reminiscent of teenage boys having fun with herbs and smoke. The suspect individual mentioned above did not make his appearance, as suspect individuals are known for not doing.

Scoping around I wandered more and more into solitude, and the sound of male voices was not at all reassuring. The nice bit about being in the Secret Seven was always that if three of us got injured there would be one person to accompany them and the last to go find help. Not being in such a well-organized group, numerically speaking, I was a bit worried about who would go for help, when the voices stilled and I scoped a young lady running by. This did not appear to be the kind of girl who generally goes for sporadic runs without something chasing her, but this is what she seemed to be doing, since the carriers of the voices were not involved, and neither were carriers of other voices in sight.

She ran by. I followed her, at a leisurely and nonchalant speed (or I would have if I was one of those people). We came out to an open-air auditorium, with several gates that form what one could call an arch. One would not notice it much had the person you had been following (semi-nonchalantly, shall we say) not proceeded to climb the arch.

I reached her almost before she reached the top, and asked if I could join. See, such freedom – to run without being chased, to climb without having a mountain, resonates with me, and the child in me (me, really) wants to climb the arch too, instead of passing through like any normal person would. (No offence to normal people, you’re great. And you’re probably not that normal either, be careful around arches and blue skies and such. But actually please don’t, please stop and run for the sky).

She was running for the sky. She had spotted one, one which to me seemed really ordinary. It was in the sky, it was white and grey and it moved and changed shape and brought promises of rain, but otherwise it was really ordinary. But to her, this cloud was worth running like someone not being chased, climbing an arch despite the evident lack of signposts pointing “up this way,” and despite the danger of being followed by strangers who don’t understand clouds, and perhaps had never really seen one.

Together we tried to remember the names of East European countries and how they split up. She apologized for her English and I apologized for my Russian. Jerusalem feels like home, we agreed.

And then I descended the arch and she started walking across it to the other side. I asked her what she was doing, and without walking back she replied, “Just walking. Bye.”