The sinful nature of the human being is often depicted in a strange sort of way.

The image present in many strains of Christianity is something like this: God, an old, grumpy man in the sky, has set forth Rules. The individual breaks a rule, which then pisses God off, and so God decides the individual must burn forever.

I condemn this view because of how weak, childish, silly, and outright dangerous it is. This idea of sin and God is at the level of understanding of a three-year-old, yet some Christians perpetuate this for the duration of their life to disastrous consequences, not the least of which that it leads no one and has never led anyway to theosis.

While in bed this morning, praying because I was trying to go back to sleep and because I find prayer much easier in a relaxed state (but this should go without saying), a more suitable illustration came to me:

imagine that a person beholds a perfect, clear light, a light which heals and sets right any ailments the person may have in their spirit, a light which endows the individual with infinite meaning in their life and experience.

Now imagine that instead of beholding that light, the person is inclined to put heaps of mud upon their eyes because the mud provides a sort of soothing, pleasurable sensation. And it isn’t just an idea that comes to us; no, the desire to put mud upon our eyes because it feels good is a natural happening (or seemingly so).

There you have it- that’s the sinful nature of mankind in the presence and experience of Almighty God. We deprive ourselves by substituting something else that seems to be what we would like but is ultimately lacking, even if it seems sensible at the time.

Now, that being said, please understandĀ that this illustration is by no means absolute or perfect. I’m only pushing it forward to try to give a more mature and spiritual understanding of the relationship between a human being and God.

As for the Book of Common Prayer experiment, I’ll say that’s been the best decision I’ve made in a long time, right up there next to ceasing to be vegetarian. I’ll also say that this experiment works for me because somehow I was instructed in my spirit about the matters; this is by no means an absolute rule.

Some people are strange in that the figure out a new way to do something or something that works for them, and they make an error of ultra-generalization, “Why, if EVERYONE just used the Book of Common Prayer every day, we would all be okay!” True, it would be helpful for those of us officially belonging to the Anglican Tradition to practice our tradition, but our culture is a specific one, and what works for us might not work for others.

This brings us to another point of interest with regard to theology: the night of my Confirmation Mass, I told the Bishop that I felt the theology of Anglicanism has a greater flexibility than the theology of the other considered denominations, which is what caused me to go with Anglicanism after all was said and done. (That and the lack of more mystical denominations around me also caused this decision. I also blame the Red State Mystic for making mainstream Christianity make sense to me.)

And herein lies the need of the flexibility: the Mystery the Living God is an explosive one, and if one has a theological framework that is bricked up and inflexible, the Actual, True, Real, Living Mystery will shatter the theological framework by revealing things unpredicted and for which the theology does not prepare you.

The flexibility effect, instead, allows for the containing of that Mystery so that it might be lived out and experienced and (very importantly) shared through the being of the individual.

I think this is enough for tonight.

Stevo

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