salvation.

there are certain words that exist in human language which hold immense power and weight. many of these words have existed for centuries in the arena of religion and mythology and are rarely used outside of that context. for example, the word ‘salvation’ will invariably cause one to think of the central foundations of many religions, especially christianity. similar words might include redemption, sacrifice, sin, heaven, hell, eternity, etc. however, each one of these words may be analysed and reflected upon outside of their religious contexts and applied to humanity without presupposition. the concept of ‘hell’ as it relates to a state of torment and suffering is often used in a temporal context to denote the very essence of the concept itself. when we say that something is ‘hellish’ or that someone is having ‘one hell of a time,’ we know exactly what we mean to say. that person or situation is one of frustration, torment, pain and suffering, or tragedy. ‘hell’ is a word-picture used to imply the ultimate expression of the tragic. in the opposite direction, ‘heaven’ is a word-picture we employ to imply the ultimate expression of pleasure and happiness. that is why a simple piece of cheesecake may, very correctly, be described as a ‘thin slice of heaven.’

with that being said, i’d like to examine the word ‘salvation’ in a slightly more objective sense. there are several foundational principles to be unpacked from this concept first. number one: this word, at it’s base level, refers to the act of ‘saving.’
number two: something which needs saving is in a state of ‘doom.’
number three: something in a state of doom is on course to be destroyed.
number four: destruction is the process by which one thing is reduced to nothing.

the process by which one thing is reduced to nothing. well, ironically, that is the natural state of.. well, everything. if you’ve seen the film, ‘fight club,’ you’ll recall the line, ‘on a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.’ this is the inevitable reality (for the present, anyways. the singularitarians might have a different worldview) that everything dies. everything ends. this is one tautological truth i agree with: everything which begins will eventually end.

this fundamental reality presents a problem to beings which are driven and programmed to survive. especially those beings which have words to describe such concepts as death and destruction. it is no surprise that contemplating death and destruction will invariably produce despair. and in retaliation to that despair the mind will seek out a resolution to stem the tide of that despair from consuming the mind. if the problem is inevitable destruction, what other solution is there apart from salvation, in any form?

in this light, it seems the foundational concept of every religion is the proposition which explains how humanity transitions from the state of number three (doomed to destruction) to the state of number one (salvation). in this proposition, humanity (if it chooses to believe) rises above the essential truth of life into a state in which destruction no longer occurs. since this is the most inescapable reality, one would need an awfully powerful force to bring this victory about. the language of warfare, struggle and eventual victory permeates religious culture today. with the dynamic climax of humanity overcoming it’s doomed fate (the de facto reality and what will happen if one does not believe) and acquiring the possession of eternal life (the reward for believing).

lamb of god, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
lamb of god, who takes away the sins of the world, grant us peace.

these epic lines illustrate how evolved the aesthetics of salvation are, yet they do not mask the reality of their origins. lamb of god, the all-powerful agent who has the power to save is also, ironically enough, a metaphoric personification of the universe itself. in these two lines it is the universe which is beseeched to grant a stay of execution to us mere mortals, doomed to death. since it is the law of the universe that we should die, clearly it must be the universe which reforms itself and removes the law of death and destruction, essentially granting humanity peace (the resolution of the initial problem which removes the tragedy and despair).

this is not to reduce the nuances and aesthetics of religion to mere psychological projection, but to unravel the extensive evolutionary development of core concepts and language which may or may not have any actual application to human experience.

well-wishing & explosions (in the sky)

you know.. or at least you should, by now.
what a great adventure lies ahead.
what a great story that is still being told.
the twist approaches, the switch on the switch.
you are not a chief, and i am not stranded on my own island.
we are now nothing more than cave-paintings.
well-worn and faded.

the next step will be the most difficult,
but it is the last to be taken.
i wish you well.

ljósið.

i don’t often dream when i am asleep. i see black, empty and total. and while i sense the passing of time it is not at all to scale. for some nights can pass by in a moment while others last far longer than they should. indeed, on rare occasion do i see anything at all in my dreams. but lately, i find myself, not dreaming, but splicing scenes of reality into my black empty landscape. you had already awoken, but as i slept there, on my side atop that welcoming mattress, i saw myself as i slept there. and then the black returned. then again, much like a memory loop, i saw myself as i slept there. then black.

and while this may seem like a simple analytical interpretation, scrambling in the dark for meaning and purpose, it seems that you are currently presenting me with such a derailing dilemma, my dear. you won’t know it but there is a plan beyond the plan. an enterprise underway which undermines the current escape. and while this memory loop, which is sometimes a little blurred, persists for the moment, i am certain the black will return, empty and total.

fascinant.

what cosmic fireworks. an impressive display of the awe-inspiring beauty this universe possesses. burning up at the end of their journey, illuminating the atmosphere but for a moment. the pieces tell the story, fragmented and raw. and the visual connection is visceral. the sky above communicates history and this current shower is set against the backdrop of the exhausted light which has traveled here from the furthest reaches of existence. an adventure which we have yet to explain, a mystery yet unravelled.

and while all of this is visible in the pre-dawn sky, i’m looking at you. it’s not a distraction nor even the cold outside, but you. because as fascinating as this universe is, it does not hold a candle to the glamour you do possess, með prinsessusniði.

frystur konungdómur.

i stepped through the mirror into a land of magical isolation. separate from the continents and urban centres of the world, hidden away and preserved, flourishing. a fox keeps me company while i wander from the glaciers and fjords to the rural townships and farming villages. indeed, i plan on making quite an extensive survey of this frozen kingdom. though i fear that such an excursion will always have, looming over head, that ominous cloud projected. an hourglass of only a few remaining grains, such a bitter reminder of the truth that mortal is precisely what this wanderer is. and even here, in the land of the yggdrasil, there is no ultimate escape from reality.

your kingdom, elska min, is indeed lovely.
it is a true reflection of you, með prinsessusniði.

the last man.

next to the remains of a broken piano there is a notebook of music. with simple white sheets, ruled and four-lined, ready for usage. the pages are empty, no compositions nor great symphonies. just the blank unwritten notes that do not yet exist. and as the dead instrument next to it, it produces no beauty. there can be no enjoyment by the listener. this musical grave adorns an abandoned tavern which used to house the local night-life in it’s entirety. but now, many years after it’s last visitor made their exit, and after a drifting low-life broken in and smashed the box of keys and strings, the once lively room is a tomb. centuries pass, millennia fly by. the piano has been consumed by those small bugs which fester in dead-wood, but the empty notebook of music lies still. and the mind which once conspired to fill it’s pages with the music of his soul will never be made mention of. his music died with him. for what use did the world have for such a man?

far into the future, buried deep beneath the ruins of an imperial military base, should the earth still remain, there will be found a small container made of plastic. and within this small storage device will lie five notebooks. they will be the literary works of some anonymous figure of which no trace will exist. and upon their finding, the pages shall be ripped from their binding to be used as tissue-paper for a young girl who has a cold. c’est la vie.

winter.

the winter always catches me by surprise. and one day, all of the sudden, the cold meets me with it’s familiar embrace. whether it’s the kiss of a colder breeze or the tingling of my fingertips after an evening walk. i suppose that’s how it is when you miss someone. at first it’s merely a thought or feeling that had previously been unthinkable. sitting down to a movie on a familiar couch. or perhaps hearing those lyrics from a shared song. and like that, a bitter taste seems to prevail over all else.

it is fascinating to me how broad the spectrum reaches when winter makes it’s arrival. time with family, friends, loved ones. but also that sinking feeling of being without one even when surrounded. like being alone in a crowded auditorium. or feeling morose at a party. i suppose this is because of how sharp the winter is. the heightened senses and experiences. there is laughter and joy but also tears and despair in abundance.

perhaps the ancients understood what winter held when they held their celebrations on the solstice to celebrate the rising of the sun on december twenty-fifth. the day which marks the end of the sun’s decline and a return to warmer climate. perhaps the ancients experienced the very same feelings of loss and loneliness that we know all too well to-day.

i know not when the winter will end. but it will not last for all time. and when it’s reached it’s end, the spring arrives and before we know it, we’ll have forgotten the bitter cold of the season, for the beauty of that which grows in spring shall always outweigh the dark and biting chills of winter-time.

all the western winds.

lately i’ve had one word constantly swimming through my thoughts: tension.

it seems to me that there is an inescapable dialectic in our existence. those two sides to every coin that make the truth seem perpetually elusive. a conversation that, in many cases, we continually have with ourselves concerning the nature of our existence, the nature of God, the universe, reality, etc. this dialogue is an invaluable aspect of our journey, usually serving as the reflection and re-evaluation of who we are, why we are here and how we’re going to live. always concerned with the next step. moving inches along on the path.

this critical conversation is one that many people choose to put off until they are back-against-the-wall and forced to face the issue at hand. it seems that, lately, my problem is that i am constantly engaging myself in this conversation and the resulting implications for lifestyle change are now long overdue. i cannot say with any extensive logic why i feel compelled to take certain actions other than my subjective interpretation and understanding of the truth found within the teachings of Jesus. for me they are undeniable. there are certain dogmas which we form concerning our style of interpretation when it comes to the Truth of God’s Word, as well as reality and the world around us. these dogmas, now illuminating the truth of karl barth’s choice of title for his work, kirche dogmatiks, are the individual pillars of faith that we build for ourselves. the catch is that we must constantly be in debate with ourselves as to whether these dogmas we erect mirror the teachings of Jesus. unfortunately, we busy ourselves with the figure of Jesus and tend to ignore His teachings.

for me, the truth of God’s character is His Love. and ultimately i think our conceptions of God are so small that they restrict life rather than allow and appreciate freedom. this is my main frustration with religion, the shrinking of God, the view of Him limited to the keyhole we fabricate in order to establish a system and an organisation for His worship. the truth is, I do not have the answer, I can only speak of the hope that lies within me, the hope that, in the end, it is God’s Love which triumphs over all else. over religion. over politics. over theology. over philosophy. over humanity and our silly lustful obsession with certainty.

wherever the winds blow, may God lead You in the direction He would have for you, rather than the direction You think you must head in.

the secret room under the stairs.

i’ve a quiet and hidden place of ideological residence where only my thoughts live, there in that secret room under the stairs. most often i lock myself away there. and for hours i sit and ponder, sometimes about great nothings and other times about those insignificant somethings, but most of the time i think about you. i try and fight cliche expressions concerning your nature. ridding my brain of such illusory claims taught by others. stripping away the worthless to find those truths of value. the ones that are simple, yet so endlessly complex and enigmatic in themselves. like love, hope, justice & peace. the sounds of constant thumping above as people travel up and down, up and down, up and down becomes rhythmic, uniform almost. they seem dull and lonely, without colour. but down here there is never a moment of mediocrity concerning you. each developing thought and dynamic perception are like new colours added to an evolving palette. in this secret room under the stairs i paint masterpieces of interpretation. upon the canvas of reality this subjective brush continually strokes to and fro with freedom. creating new works while retaining the memory and integrity of pieces from long ago. this is my studio and i am the artist. sometimes i frame pensive photographs or fashion sculptures of faith. here i can draw my doubts and colour them with curiousity. and as much as i create here, there is unceasing revision and editing to be done. for the canvas shifts without warning, the colours turn, and if one is not careful, the entire world passes in a blink. and yet, there is always time to pause amidst the tulmultous tide. when my thoughts set down their brushes and pencils and stare out across the horizon. even there, in that secret room under the stairs i watch the heavens with acute vision, dancing in time to that immortal & sacred rhythm. i think i’ll stay a while yet.

and the sun came out..

there will always be turmoil. a constant downpour of stress & situation. circumstances that seem impossible to escape. there will be worry and uncertainty. the splinter in the back of one’s own head, constantly trying to sort through the issue of survival. fear, of whatever it may be, shall always arise. and that feeling of complete inability within the overpowering world.

but all of this, the great and terrible sum of the equation of life, is temporary. not to speak of death, but of the periodic moments of sunlight on this cloudy planet. it is no analogy, but rather i should think it a proof that all things are quite similarly connected. the planet itself has gone through an individual evolution amidst the overwhelming cosmos. and perhaps i daresay that God himself has changed over the years and centuries. not a biological evolution nor a geological development, but rather an exponential increase in understanding love. the true sun whose light springs growth and life.

for it has been taught that God, who is Love incarnate, does not change. but this is nonsense when you consider the power He/Love has. for nothing, no person, who has experienced love was ever the same afterwards. that is to say that while God would have existed before humanity, He would certainly have undergone a great deal of evolution in His own understanding of Himself (Love) as a result of His interaction with humanity. and vice versa.

consider the ‘first’ humans living in paradise with Him. they, like the two year old who curiously touches the hot stove even after being told by their parent not to, disobeyed God and were immediately cast out of paradise. i suppose that if we follow the parallel of the two year old this would mean that upon touching the stove, the child was banished from the house for all time. now, legalities being what they are and morality being as it is, that is still quite a harsh punishment, wouldn’t you say?

so humanity lived on it’s own for a while. things got worse and worse. and eventually they were so bad that God had decided to destroy all humanity, except for one family and start over. quite honestly the largest theo-genecide (that is, genecide prompted by God) in history. but this time, something interesting occurs. and seeing the utter devestation of those He has destroyed, God makes a promise.

Genesis 8:21 ..and the LORD said to Himself, “I will never again curse the ground on account of man, for the intent of man’s heart is evil from his youth; and I will never again destroy every living thing, as I have done.”

so, even after all of that rain and destruction, that brutal vengence of a jealous God, the waters stopped pouring and the sun came out. now while one might argue that God continues to be a brutal and violent fellow, illogical and rash, i tend to think there are other arguments of greater quality which defeat them. we might say that a perfect God, who never changes or grows, might not really be the kind of loving God we’d previously imagined Him to be. but a God so deeply entrenched in His creation that it affects Him and might actually cause His understanding of Love/Himself to grow, i believe this to be the case.