The Death of the Cicadas

A rare species of cicada has recently invaded our little part of the bluegrass. The noise that these swarms create can be deafening. Lydah and I have had a fun time marveling at their beauty although she didn't particularly care for it when one landed on her bare foot. This particular species has red eyes and a black body and, if what I've been told is correct, they only appear every seventeen years.

Today we returned home after two days in Indiana to find that all of the cicadas are now dead. Their brief lives had served its purpose and now the once mighty roar of the swarm has fallen silent. Lydah saw one of the dead cicadas on the ground today and asked me to pick it up and throw it into the air so that it would fly away (one of the games we had played in the preceding weeks). I tried to explain to her that they were dead and would no longer fly, but she didn't understand. So I picked up the dead cicada whose red eyes had faded to brown and threw him into the air. Lydah watched in disappointment as it thudded to the ground and, giving up on this form of entertainment, was quickly distracted by a nearby bird.

Are we humans like these cicadas? Do we appear briefly on this earth, make some noise, procreate, and then die off almost as quickly as we came? Are we just a blip on the timeline of the universe just as this species of cicada passed through birth, life, and death within a few weeks and then disappeared? Surely, if this is the human story -- if we are cicadas and nothing more -- then all hope is lost, all efforts to improve humanity are in vein, all striving after God and goodness and love is entirely meaningless. Please pardon the sacrilege here, but if this is the human story then can we really call the holocaust or the current crisis in Darfur a tragedy? Are these not simply brute facts and somber reminders of the fate of us all?

Some will argue that meaning can be found even if our lives are like those of the cicada. I cannot find it. Dust that breathes a few breaths and then returns to dust is hopeless, pointless, and worthless.

This is why the resurrection of Christ is the linchpin of the entire Christian faith. It reminds us that this dust which presently constitutes our bodies will one day be reconstituted into an incorruptible form. What God did for Jesus, He will do for us all. Our story is not the cicada story and Christians around the world rejoice in this fact as they declare the mystery of their faith:

"Christ has died, Christ has risen, and Christ will come again."

Wordless Prayer

Matthew records Jesus as instructing his disciples, "When you pray, do not go on babbling as the pagans do for they think that they will be heard because of their many words." As a guy who often doesn't like to talk, I take comfort in this verse. For years I felt guilt about not having an active, living prayer life. Somewhere along the line I came to understand prayer as "talking to God." The problem was that on many days I just didn't feel like talking. So I felt guilty that I could not obey Paul command to "pray without ceasing."

And then I grew up and learned that prayer isn't just talking; it's listening. And, more than that, it is just being. My brother Kyle and I like to hang out a lot, but we don't always talk. We just like being together. Surely God appreciates the same.

So I have been liberated from the need to talk. As St. Augustine wrote long ago, "The desire is your prayer; and if your desire is without ceasing, your prayer will also be without ceasing. The continuance of your desire is the continuance of your prayer." And as St. Therese of Lisieux has said, "For me, prayer is an upward leap of the heart, an untroubled glance towards heaven, a cry of gratitude and love which I utter from the depths of sorrow as well as from the heights of joy." Laughing, crying, playing, and resting... it is all prayer if done in the presence of God.

Hypnotism

About 10 days ago, my wife and I were on our first cruise. We didn't attend most of the nightly shows, but one of them that we did attend featured a "comic hypnotist." Inviting 12 participants from the audience who were willing to be hypnotized, he asked them all to concentrate on his words and put eight of them under his spell, dismissing the other four to return to their seats. He then proceeded to make these eight unfortunate people perform all manner of embarrassing activities such as performing a ballet, sniffing each other's shoes, and sobbing uncontrollably. While most of the audience roared with laughter, I sat there with a sick feeling in my stomach. This was my first time to see a live hypnotism and something about it seemed unnatural.

I am convinced that hypnotism is not a gimmick. It really works. I marveled at the absurd acts these eight people performed without even cracking a smile (that is what convinced me the most). But the sheer power that the hypnotist had over these individuals frightened me. If he had told them to go jump off of the edge of the ship, I believe they would have done it.

That evening I had a theological crisis. All sorts of questions emerged from the event: How is it possible for one human to be able to control the minds of other humans? What evil could be done if this were used by the wrong person? Why would God, who in my view seems to value human free will very highly, allow this utter destruction of free will? If these people acted like this and were seemingly unaware of their actions, could we all be hypnotized by God and not know it? (I know this sounds absurd at first, but consider: does God manipulate us to any degree? Surely if a hypnotist could manipulate someone, then God could at least change our desires or our inner dispositions at his every whim?)

And more questions emerge that relate to my earlier entries entitled "Virtue in a Pill." If a hypnotist could "cure" me of my sinful impulses such as the desire for other women or outbursts of anger or even my difficulty with listening to others, then why should I not go and have it done right away? In other words, can a hypnotist do what I've been asking the Holy Spirit to do for me only quicker and more effectively? Which leads to a deeper question: Assuming that the Holy Spirit could be more effective than a hypnotist if he wanted to, then why doesn't He do it? If God has the power to instantly sanctify me and I earnestly ask Him to do it but He does not, then when I do sin am I ultimately to blame or is God? A good hypnotist is able to help people out of depressions, addictions, etc and we do not blame him for doing so; in fact, we praise such a doctor for healing his patients. But if God could act as the Great Hypnotist but does not do so even to the patient who is keenly aware of his own sickness and pleads for help, then isn't this blameworthy? Wouldn't we shame a human who acted in such a way?

The other alternative, of course, is that although God can instantly sanctify a person, He may have very good reasons for choosing not to. We can only speculate at what such reasons might be, but my best theory is this: God actually prefers for us to struggle with sin than to be instantly alleviated from it. Perhaps within this struggle is a greater good -- the long, slow, painful development of character, for example. But does this mean that God actually prefers sin over holiness in certain circumstances?

Allow me to illustrate: Al is an alcoholic. Al asks God to instantly cure him by removing from him his desire for booze. God has the power to do this. I imagine that if Al went to a doctor and asked to have his desire for booze removed and the doctor had the ability to do it, the doctor would in fact do it or he would be in some way morally blameworthy. But God does not instantly cure Al and, in fact, watches him struggle with the addiction for years even to the point that his marriage is broken and he loses his job. Al attends AA meetings and does everything within his own power to break himself free, but he continues to relapse once or twice a month. His spirit is willing, but his flesh is weak. But the question is this: if Al does go out and get hammered one weekend, who is to blame? Is it Al or is it God? It seems to me that God is more to blame than Al.

Hypnotize me, O God, and do it now. Amen.

1 Samuel 16:14

1 Samuel 16:14 says this: "Now the Spirit of the Lord had departed from Saul, and an evil spirit from the Lord tormented him."

I ask this simple question: How can YHWH have an evil spirit? I am forced to read this as a figure of speech meaning roughly "God allowed an evil spirit to torment Saul." But I do not believe that God is in the business of tormenting people, nor do I believe it is possible for something evil to emanate from Pure Light in whom there is no darkness at all.

According to the narrative, the evil spirit did serve a purpose -- the purpose of bringing David and Saul in contact. David played music to relieve Saul of the evil spirit from God. So this makes it seem as though God did indeed send the spirit, but for a larger purpose. Does God participate in evil so that good may result? Does the end justify the means for God? Can God do evil?

Has God sent the evil spirit which torments me?