Showing posts with label darkness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label darkness. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

good and bad, cynicism and hope, The Silver Cord, justice on lowercase people



Oh my gosh, a post! It's been forever and a half. But I finally had some coherent thoughts and there were three or four people I was interested in sharing them with and then realized that instead of writing it out in four different letters or emails, I could just post it here. Not sure if this is the revival of the blog but I am seriously interested in some legit discussion and this is often a good medium. (Hint: comment. Please.)


I think we've all heard the "There is no bad without good: there is no dark without light, cold without heat" argument. (If not, I've probably written a post about it.) The shadow proves the sunshine, etc. I believe this. I believe that we are inherently good in the sense that (as C.S. Lewis has said) we never sin for the sake of sinning. We do it to feel better, for pleasure, for selfishness, etc. Even the devil - the ultimate force of evil in the world - is motivated by pride. That being said, when it comes down to it, stripped down, we are not trying to be bad, we're just failing at being good. There's only one standard, and it's not a spectrum with two ends. That is to say, you can't much say you're good at being bad just because you're bad at being good. 'Bad' is given its identity by the standard of good - it's a broken piece of good (again, a bit taken from Lewis). There is only one conscience and set of morals to be abandoned, and when that happens you can't say you've adopted another, because all it really is is a broken version of the first. And it's broken by us failing at the given; it is not an original creation.

This conclusion that humans are, in fact, inherently good (in this sense at least - we are inherently bad [in my opinion] in the sense that we are so bad at being good) for some reason isn't particularly comforting to me. I suppose it is a large comfort that there's no such thing as incorruptible evil, or even corrupted evil, just corrupted good; but, on the other hand, isn't it sort of depressing that we're so bad at it? With the perspective defined above, there's only one standard and one line of judgement (so we only really get one shot) and we all suck. I'm not sure if I'm making any sense.



I was suddenly very tired of being cynical today. I think I'm just gonna keep my negativity to myself because that's probably what I hate most about it. I don't like sucking optimism out of conversations and I cringe at the thought of deflating dreamers (not to assume I have that power). It's not like I think there's no hope left in the world, I'm just more of an advocate of hope on a smaller scale. (Can I really call myself a cynic, then?) I think our efforts are more effective directed towards people on an individual level than they are towards the salvation of the species as a whole, or whatever the endeavor.

"The Silver Cord" by The Classic Crime is one of my favorite albums, ever. It's extremely thematic and, in my opinion, the theme is ridiculously legit. It's a fifteen track cd broken in the middle by an instrumental track called "The Ascent" that's named entirely appropriately. It's a chord progression that's literally an ascent. All the songs before The Ascent are sort of cynical and dark and very much minor - for example, a song called "God and Drugs" about drug addiction and another called "Just A Man" about manipulative advertising in Christianity - and the songs after are far more uplifting, major, and imbued with a sense of powerful hope. The song "Closer Than We Think" is the second-to-last song on the cd and its main idea is that we're "closer than we think to home." The first song is called "The End" and is probably the darkest song on the album; the last, on the other hand, is called "The Beginning". So, the entire album promotes an idea on life that pretty much illustrates my personal perspective: that humanity is a screw-up species but that there is a way to be good. I guess you can see why I like it so much. Not to mention all the musical qualities, which are copious. I highly recommend it and am willing to send a copy for those of you that don't have one.


Also, go here, click into the site (a very cool one, discovered thanks to Jon Foreman), mouse over the 'justice' tab and click 'feature'. It's a really good, moving article: this is the kind of hope I believe in. It was a very long time ago that I read it but I just checked and it's still up.


I'm sure anyone who reads this has already heard me rave, but: read One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. It's one of the best books I've read in my life, ever. I'm halfway through it for a second time right now.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

light vs. darkness, light and rain, language of love, Jesus' death and life

I just finished a book, on recommendation of companionableills, called Story, by Steven James. It was very good. Highly recommend it. There were a few things I would depict differently, I think.

Anyway, tidbits:


James talks about light and darkness in this story a lot. They don't seem such opposites to me (fighting forces, though, yes), because darkness is the absence of light. Darkness cannot exist without light, it is not without light. It is not.
And light and darkness (as good and evil) work their wonders in such different ways.

At one point James says, "...i need some of your light to glow in my life/and burn away the darkness...i still have an echo of your image within me,/battling with this creeping stain upon my soul..."
I wrote notes:
"wash away
Rain. Leaves its own stain?
Washes in light.
Light can be heavy."
For a while I've been struggling with expressing the reason I enjoy rain so much and, specifically, Arizona rain and not necessarily any other rain. (I am determined to hate Arizona, so maybe this is why I have so much trouble.)
I have come up with this: Rain is substance.
I think I know what I mean now. I think that light can be heavy in the same way that rain can be heavy. It may wash away impurities, stains, but it also leaves a stain of its own. It penetrates and illuminates and leaves things raw and real. I am definitely blending light and rain now.
I'm sure I'm being completely incoherent.


I think that our fallen nature is not our desire to do evil, for that does not exist in that pure sense. It is our loss of touch with God and our weakness to Satan. It is our tongues and ears wrapping themselves around, becoming fluent in, the language of dark and sin rather than of light, of love.


There is so little focus on God becoming Man and I believe that this is a mistake. There is an implication, I think, that God's sole sacrifice/gift for us was His death for us but His life for us is immensely important. Because of Jesus' death, our sins can be forgiven and we can break through death, but only because of His life can we bring Him into ourselves. God became Man when we had fallen so far from the image He created us in, allowing us to don the Jesus persona. He gave us a model to mold our lives after but also made it possible. God wants us to be like Him. And so He became Man and somehow reconciled His perfect nature with our worldly, sin-stained one, making it possible for us to do the same. He found a means for cleansing our bodies so something as perfect as Christ can exist within them.
This is so difficult to explain.


These posts always form themselves at absurd hours. Not nearly as intelligible in the morning.



Current music:
Fallen Man, Relient K
Hallelujah, Rufus Wainwright