Of gods and dragons

I saw a ridiculous meme on pinterest the other day, a comic strip presentation of John Lenon’s song ‘imagine’ going on about there being neither a Heaven nor a Hell, wherein a person went down to Hell and pulled the demon from the pit and then ascended to Heaven and brought down the angel, who gladly cast her halo aside.  I get tired of the hippy pipe dream that if we all just pretend to be nice to each other the world will be a happy and peaceful place and life will be great.  What really annoys me about this presentation is that we are not so much abolishing Heaven and Hell, rather we are merely doing away with Heaven and pretending we can build our own here on earth, which 6000 years of recorded history at trying just that has proved again and again is vain.  It is a lie as old as Eden: ‘ye can be gods!’  And what capricious gods we be!  We’d much rather be miserable our own way than happy His way.  It is the same as my four year old telling me he hates ice cream because he’s in a bad mood because I told him ‘no’ about something and he didn’t get his own way: he’s determined to be miserable rather than admit that maybe mommy knows what she is talking about and enjoying his dessert.

C.S. Lewis’s book ‘The Great Divorce,’ is a beautiful (and interesting) vision of just that, with a busload of tourists from Hell taking a weekend holiday in Heaven (an interesting theological exercise to say the least), most are appalled and prefer to return to the miserable and intangible slums of Hell than to accept Heaven as it is rather than as they think it should be.  Most of us have the spiritual maturity of a four year old, at least here in the West where everything is ‘my way.’  Culture cannot fathom why the orthodox church is so stodgy and won’t applaud the currently fashionable sin (each age and generation has its own), insisting that humanity has always been ‘this way’ or should be and therefore their doctrine is obviously wrong and should change, forgetting that the church is far older than most cultures, has survived the rise and fall of countless nations and empires, peoples and tongues, and that whatever is trendy and ‘vital’ today will be utterly forgotten or overlooked two decades hence when a new ideal is boasted abroad as ‘the thing.’  The fads of the Romans are forgotten as are the trendy lifestyle choices of the 1920’s or the 1730’s, but the church remains, and even older than that is the Word, which though it once wore flesh, has neither beginning nor end, neither is it mutable.

This is how our own fairytale begins: “and the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth...therefore, rejoice, O heavens and you who dwell in them!  But woe to you, O earth and sea, for the devil has come down to you in great wrath, because he knows that his time is short!”  Now that ancient serpent cannot ascend again into Heaven, but he has taught us that we might bring Heaven down, or ascend thence ourselves, or build it here on earth, but he is ‘a liar, and the father of lies,’ and have learned nothing since Eden fell.  We stand here, clueless as Eve or culpable as Adam, thinking that our own tale will somehow be different.  But we cannot reach nor make Heaven on our own, rather Heaven has come down to us, that ancient serpent is not unopposed, but he is no less crafty.  The fairytales have it right: do it (whatever strange or bizarre task is set you) exactly as instructed or prepare to be turned into a donkey or lost forever in the wilderness or to have the mountain vanish away in a puff of smoke, ne’er more to be seen.  But we don’t believe in fairies anymore, much less understanding the meaning of our oldest tales.

I’ve lived in that ‘happy family,’ that pretended everything was great and wonderful and perfect, and it wasn’t Heaven, it was certainly Hell.  But I didn’t know it, not in the midst of it, but now that we’re broken and imperfect and messy, I can catch glimpses of that far off country, like snatches of music heard faintly in a dark land.  That comic wasn’t wrong in bringing the demon up to earth, they are quite at home here, but it was all wrong in thinking the angel happily laid aside his halo and joined hands with all creation in bland and meaningless song, he did come down, but rather he took up his sword.  It is only we foolish mortals that think we are not in a war; what sillies we must look, thinking to join hands and sing inane songs in the midst of a war zone and call it Heaven!

Our vision is too small.  C.S. Lewis once compared the idea to a child of the slums, content in making his mud pies in the streets, who refused a holiday at the seashore because he could not fathom anything better than the reality he knew.  We can easily imagine Hell, but we cannot fathom Heaven, any more than that indigent child the sea.  We wish to avoid the former without wishing to attain the latter, no wonder we are discontent.  But if we are of a bold and adventurous spirit, we can set out in quest for that strange, fey Kingdom, though the path be narrow and the gate small, for even in the tall tales, it is but few that go in search of adventure or risk everything for a needful cause, who despise the 'broad path,' and those upon it, content in their own seeming wisdom.  But we all long for an adventure, just look at the stories that even today captivate our hearts and minds.  Everyone hopes the fairytales are true, and they are, but we balk at the idea that we are actually living in one and must accept the responsibility of stepping out the door and hastening off in search of the hidden Kingdom.  We'd much rather lie comfortably abed and listen to the tale, rather than to go out and make our own.