What Kind of Person am I?

I’m reading a book right now called The Divine Conspiracy by Dallas Willard, a philosophy professor at the University of Southern California and a Christian.

I gotta tell you, this book has been pushing me and challenging me theologically more than the past ten books I’ve read combined! And I’ll tell you why.

The Divine Conspiracy focuses largely on The Sermon on the Mount, Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 5 and 6. Most of the time, when we read these teachings of Jesus—teachings like: do not be angry, do not lust, do not swear an oath, love your enemies, etc., etc., etc.—when we read these, we assume that Jesus is giving us laws to obey. But Willard argues that these are not laws; these are illustrations of how a certain kind of person lives.

And what kind of person is this? A person whose life is completely submitted to God. A person who lives and breathes the life of God. A person whose feet are covered with the dust kicked up by Jesus’ feet because they are following so closely.

This kind of person does not simply obey a law that says “do not be angry with your brother or sister” (and, by the way, Jesus doesn’t exactly say this, but this is how we often understand Matthew 5:21-22). The kind of person that Jesus is talking about does not get angry or bitter because their life is filled with the love of God.

This kind of person does not simply obey a law that says “do not lust” (again, not exactly how Jesus put it). This kind of person will not objectify anyone sexually because they understand a person’s value the way God understands a person’s value.

This kind of person will not merely obey a law that says “do not swear.” This kind of person will be a person of integrity and honesty; a person who does not need to swear or promise or make an oath because this person always means what he or she says—and follows through.

I hope this makes sense. I’m still learning to grasp this way of reading Jesus’ words. And I’m struggling with this question: “Am I that kind of person? Or am I just trying to obey what I think are the rules?”

Let me end with these two paragraphs from The Divine Conspiracy:

Is it then hard to do the things with which Jesus illustrates the kingdom heart of love? Or the things Paul says love does? It is very hard indeed if you have not been substantially transformed in the depths of your being, in the intricacies of your thoughts, feelings, assurances, and dispositions, in such a way that you are permeated with love. Once that happens, then it is not hard. What would be hard would be to act the way you acted before.

When Jesus hung on the cross and prayed, “Father, forgive them because they do not understand what they are doing,” that was not hard for him. What would have been hard for him would have been to curse his enemies and spew forth vileness and evil upon everyone, God and the world…. He calls us to impart himself to us. He does not call us to do what he did, but to be as he was, permeated with love. Then the doing of what he did and said becomes the natural expression of who we are in him.

Real Reality

I'm reading a book right now by Chuck Palahniuk called Haunted, a strange story about a bunch of writers who have gone on a retreat, only to find themselves locked in an old theater with no windows, limited food, and no way out.

Sounds kind of disturbing, doesn't it? Well, it is kind of disturbing. But then, Chuck Palahniuk is known for writing on disturbing subject matter--he's best knows for writing the book, Fight Club, on which the movie of the same title is based.

So, why am I reading this book? Because I like disturbing subject matter? Not really.

I'm reading Haunted (aside from the fact that's it's an engaging book) because I believe Chuck Palahniuk is a window into the world of our culture, especially the world of Generation X and younger. A world filled with despair and hopelessness. A world that is desperately searching for meaning beyond itself. A world that wants more to life than just wealth and good looks.

The book itself is made up of short stories "written by" the writers who are stuck in the old theater.

Last night, I read a story called The Nightmare Box, in which a young woman looks into an antique box called a Nightmare Box. The Box itself continously ticks (like a clock), and then at some random point stops ticking. When it stops ticking, the first person to look into the box sees something that drives that person to utter despair.

What is it that people see in the Nightmare Box? What could be that terrible, that awful, that horrifying?

By the end of the story, we learn what the Nightmare Box reveals:

It's something that goes beyond life-after-death. What's in the box is proof that what we call life isn't. Our world is a dream. Infinitely fake. A nightmare.

One look, Rand says, and your life--your preening and struggle and worry--it's all pointless....

All your problems and love affairs.

They're an illusion.

"What you see inside the box," Rand says, "is a glimpse of real reality."

I don't know about you, but I see truth in these words. When we understand "real reality" we discover that all our "preening and struggle and worry--it's all pointless."

But what's "real reality"? If we caught a glimpse of "real reality," would it really lead to despair? Or would it lead to hope?

I'm also reading another book right now, this one by Dallas Willard, called The Divine Conspiracy. In this book, Willard delves into the meaning of the Sermon on the Mount (or, as he calls it, the Discourse on the Hill).

In his chapter on the Beatitudes, Willard challenges the common notion that the Beatitudes are instructions on how to live. When Jesus says "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," Jesus isn't instructing us to be "poor in spirit." Jesus isn't saying it's a virtue to be "poor in spirit."

On the contrary, Jesus is saying that the "real reality" is that those who are "poor in spirit," those who are "spiritually bankrupt, deprived and deficient, the spiritual beggars, those without a wisp of 'religion'"--theirs is the kingdom of heaven!

Here's how Willard puts it:

Those poor in spirit are called "blessed" by Jesus, not because they are in a meritorious condition, but because, precisely in spite of and in the midst of their ever so deplorable condtion, the rule of the heavens has moved redemptively upon and through them by the grace of Christ. (italics Willard's)

See, that's "real reality"! Jesus has brought into the world a new "real reality." A reality in which the kingdom of heaven is here! Among us. With us. In Jesus.

We are living in the midst of the kingdom of heaven because Jesus has brought it near. And all can experience that "real reality" because of the grace of Jesus.

So here's the question: Would the Nightmare Box really lead a person to utter despair?

I don't think so. Not if it revealed the "real reality" that Jesus revealed.