The Twins

The news hatched another monster story today. This time children were among the victims. This has to stop, I thought as I filed it under tragedies that are far away, but may come close all too soon. While this tragedy was unfolding, I was waging a battle of my own with evil, and it all happened during church. 

Contemplating evil and trying to sort the levels of evil is not a job for the faint of heart, but it seems that if someone could just take out the maniacs who keep blowing themselves up along with whoever's close, the world would be a better place, and certainly a safer place.  This form of evil is so very crystal clear. And I myself do not engage in it. Subject closed.

Not really.

A small voice reminded me that to hate is to kill. The smallest act of hatred is evil that can blossom into all forms of murder. The subtle cold shoulder, the snide remark, the well-placed lift of the eyebrow, the suggestion of one's own superiority can be ever so camouflaged in a show of humility so convincing that only those who know you well can detect it. You can, of course, even fool yourself. 

And in my very morally superior castle, I reign as the queen. But there, you see, lies my problem. I cannot see to solve another's problems for the beam in my own eye. Though I harangue and rightly so, condemn evil and ego alike, it resides within me. The suburban American housewife who shops at Costco, attends church and is faithful to her husband of 30 years. In other words, crystal clear evil has an opague evil twin and it is self-rightousness. If Isis has a corner on evil acts, the American church has a corner on self-righteousness.

I venture to say, that until we all are able to swallow this bitter pill, we can have no hope of understanding the world. It is all very well to hope for a brighter future, and to give to charities, and world missions, to support the troops, and to buy girl scout cookies, but the real hope of the world is truly a heartbeat away from every one of us.

The Savior told us, 

"I am the light of the world"

"I am the bread of life"

"I have living water"

"I have overcome the world"

 and most reassuringly --

"I am with you always". 

So unless we are looking to him for the quintessential answer, indeed unless we realize that the question is, "Who shall save us?" we may as well all strap on the explosives and give it up now. Death and destruction is the only paradigm that makes sense. Without the hope of the world, it is no wonder people are destroying each other.

One result of recognizing your own weaknesses is compassion for others.  Make this small change in your heart daily. Every action has a consequence. We can't afford to go the other way much longer. 

Always Mercy

Being a new devoted Doctor Who fan, I can't resist a stab at some thoughts on Episode 2 of Season 9. Aficionado's may wish to go and fetch a cup of tea whilst I give a little insight to the rest of you.

The Doctor Who series is a BBC original television show which began in 1963, went into dormancy in 1989 and experienced a revival beginning in 2005. It features the Doctor, a Time Lord who travels through time in a  Blue British Police Box called the TARDIS (acronym for time and relative dimension in space).

The vulnerability and ultimate triumph of mercy is showcased quite brilliantly. The Doctor responds to an ominous and pitiable summons from Davros, the creator of the Daleks, robotic machines who are quite possibly the biggest evil threat he faces. We are shown a flashback where the Doctor has saved Davros' life as a child, and during the course of the episode we learn that it is the Doctor's compassion for this boy-turned-evil-mastermind that has allowed the birth of so much evil, and indeed been the primary reason for the predicament that the Doctor and his friends find themselves in at the moment. We are drawn in horrified fascination to the Daleks whose individual and collective mantra is 'EXTERMINATE!', but we are also drawn to the Doctor because he is good, and it doesn't hurt that he is usually able to get out of fantastically bad circumstances, managing to also rescue his companions and any other such innocents.

As Davros begins to tighten the noose on the Doctor he makes a pitiful plea for the Doctor to help him see the sunset and even sheds real tears. There is some cheesy comment about how they are in this moment on the same side, and the Doctor's compassion once again leads him to offer help by giving some of his lifeforce to the (apparently) dying Davros. He finds himself, in his attempt to help, led into a trap, being drained of energy which is used to strengthen the Daleks even more.

This tragedy is then turned to victory when the Doctor's current companion Clara, trapped in a Dalek's apparatus is able to articulate 'mercy' through the Dalek's voice box - which concept is unknown to the Daleks, but enabled by the Doctor's sacrifice of energy - to recognize her and save her. 'Always mercy.' the Doctor says, in what appears to be a spiritually teaching moment.

At one point a question is posed, 'Davros made the Daleks, but who made Davros?' As far as I can determine, the question is never answered, within this episode anyway.

You connect the dots. I did.

Good vs Evil

Woke up this fine morning from the middle of a dream where I was being held captive by a sadistic scientist. There was fear, anger and a question in my own mind about whether or not he'd kill me and the others that he'd entrapped in his wacky hi-tech complex where elevators turned into passageways and back into elevators that lead to other rooms. Adding to the threat of death was the question of how he'd kill us, and the very real possibility that it would involve terror and torture of some kind since he'd already given us some hints that involved animal cruelty. Survival was my sole motivation, and I hoped I'd be rescued when I strategically placed my backpack in front of a window hoping that my family would see it and know where I was.

Although waking up was the best part of this dream, I'm fascinated by what the dream gave my imagination, and what it told me about myself. You see, I've been on a fifty six year long faith journey that has certainly included ups, downs, doubt, zeal and probably a very typical American Christian mindset. The problem of evil in my personal life has been limited to the banal. In other words, I have yet to meet a real life sadistic scientist, and the possibility of being captured and held hostage by one is remote. That doesn't mean I'm a stranger to evil, just that using the term evil would be a little dramatic when describing my problems.

Maybe.

Unless you believe, as I do, that unseen forces of good and evil are at work everywhere. You see, everyday I fight the urge to be self absorbed, to be greedy, to be deceitful about my motives, to meditate on fear, and to let survival swallow real life as it passes through me. The pull to the dark side is real.

But, there's always a window somewhere. Just like in my dream prison, I have the sunlight of good streaming in. The choice to walk in step with evil is always a prison, but a real world of good exists brighter and bigger outside. Just like my dream, it all happens in the mind.

The Gospel According to Who?

The British are clever.

They've created a story with a built-in revolving cast of characters that has continued to appeal to the masses for multiple generations. 

I'm not sure that the fan mania over Doctor Who has as much to do with the clever, yet sometimes cheesy story lines, or the superb casting and riveting, attractively interesting characters, although as a shameless Who devotee I enjoy all these elements.  It occurs to me that there might be something subtler at work. There are some elements of our ancient belief system that have informed the writers of the series, and this is the reason I believe we 'get it'.

EVIL 

There is evil afoot in the Doctors's Universe. The bad guys are many: from human fears personified as doll-monsters, hideous figures with terrifying piranha-like teeth for faces, statues that come to life only when you're not looking, walking snowmen, to the Daleks, super robotic machines whose only goal is to "exterminate" the Doctor and all he stands for. I'll spare you the pedantic parallels. 

SPACE AND TIME

The Doctor flies through the universe as a reincarnating (read resurrecting)Time Lord in a machine called the Tardis. It is labelled, ironically? as a police call box painted a royal shade of blue. When a new character discovers the Tardis they often remark in surprise, "It's bigger on the inside!" The idea that there must be more than the here and now creates the most puzzling mystery for all of mankind (almost as puzzling as the actual identity and name of the Doctor). We are trapped in time and space, yet we instinctively "know", or at least we hope there is more to both time and space than we have heretofore been able to fully understand. Oh, and did I mention that the Doctor knows the future? I promised to spare you the parallels but I can't help myself.

 

RESCUE

The concept of rescue and or redemption strikes at the heart of all good narratives. It forms the basis of every hero figures' main purpose. We love a hero almost as much as we identify with the victim figure. In every episode the Doctor saves someone. 

MYSTERIOUS / MISTAKEN IDENTITY

The fact that he is a rescuer certainly doesn't mean that all relations with the Doctor are warm and fuzzy. We don't even know his real name, and when he morphs into the new Doctor, the physical form is new and unfamiliar. He is often percieved as harsh and unfeeling, devoid of mercy and love just before he saves the day, often sacrificing himself in some way. "Is he mad or is he right?" his followers ask, and as one exasperated companion of the Doctor observes, "He'll get us out of here. The difficult part is not killing him before he can."

He is the ultimate savior type, even though in some episodes we are not sure that he will prove trustworthy or that he will be capable of coming through, there is no doubt that we want him to. Danger, peril, even death and suffering run rampant, especially when the Doctor is around. But one thing is clear. He is not called the Doctor for nothing.

A Mother Only a Son Could Forgive

When Philip Oglesby's mother is in the room, the tone is unmistakably, well, not motherly. She has a demeanor that dominates by insulting decency itself. This is precisely why he did not really want to visit her on Mother's Day. 

But, in fact, he did. And that visit rewarded him with a trip to jail for being an accessory to Williemaye Oglesby's armed robbery of a church. But that's not the most insane outcome of the story that Vincent crafts from the sardonic tale of lost childhood, neglect, and dysfunction that runs so deep you can cut it with a knife. Amid the backdrop of the American south, complete with comfort food, nepotistic law enforcement, and what would be a comedy of errors but for the sobering fact that Vincent just might know about this firsthand, we are treated to a backdoor peep into rural America. But the most remarkable element of the story is the choice that Philip Ogelsby makes after the chaotic and  criminal way he has been treated by the woman who should have protected him, proving once again that evil can be overcome with good.