01.26.08

The Firebird.

Posted in dragons, firebirds at 9:23 pm by Alix

An adult dragon is one of the largest creatures on the planet. At the shoulder, they stand about five stories high. From snout to tail, they are about a quarter mile long.

That’s about three and two-third football fields, for those having some trouble visualizing.

Their scales are the size of dinner plates, and as thick as two of your fingers. Their talons are about as long as a car. Their teeth are the length of an adult human. One of their eyes is bigger than your front door.

Yeah. Dragons are massive. We are rodents, compared to them.

But they are not the largest creatures on Earth. There is one larger.

The firebird.

From beak to tail, the firebird is about 300 miles long. Its wingspan is nearly twice that. Its beak is about twice the size of Manhattan. Its longest feathers would easily span Washington DC.

Yeah, I said “its”. There’s only ever one at a time.

Which is probably a good thing. The firebird eats energy – lightning, sunlight, heat, radiation, et cetera. But there’s only so much energy to be found on Earth, and the rest of us lowly creatures need some too.

The firebird is almost incomprehensible. Compared to it, we are fleas.

Fortunately, it seems to like us.

01.13.08

Sensing the Numinous.

Posted in Favorites, faith, my religion, you at 12:32 am by Alix

You make one huge assumption before you even really start thinking.

You trust your senses.

You trust that they are not mere phantoms of your brain. You trust that there is a world out there, that they are showing you, and that they are giving you accurate information about it.

The rest of your reality is built on that one assumption.

Later, you learn that your senses can be fooled. You learn that there is information out there your senses don’t pick up on their own. You learn that your brain can mess with your senses, or record their impressions wrong, and other things besides. You also learn at some point that not everyone has all five senses.

Back up a minute.

You do not make one initial assumptions. You make five, bundled as one. Smell, taste, touch, hearing, sight.

So add another: a sense of (or for?) the numinous.

You might have it. (Like the other five senses, not all people do.)

You might not trust it, if you do. (Like the others, it can be tricked, your brain can mess with it, or you may simply have learned – or decided – not to trust it.)

If you do not have it, the claims of certain folk that they feel the presence of the divine or whatever sound absurd. Nothing they can say can prove their experience to you – can you explain color to a blind person, to use an overused cliche?

If you do not trust it, the claims of those folk sound deluded – don’t they know it’s “just” a feeling?

If you have it, and trust it, the divine is not a theory; it is as much a fact of your existence as the things you touch, smell, taste, see, and hear.

Hold up, now.

Did you know that the primary definition of faith is “confidence or trust in a person or thing”?

We all have faith in our senses.

01.10.08

Poison and Cure: A Modern Parable.

Posted in Christianity, parable at 2:38 pm by Alix

Two men came into the hospital, both with the same symptoms. The doctors looked at the men, and determined that they had both been poisoned.

Now, this poison was rare, and the hospital had only enough antidote for one man, with no means of getting more. So the doctors now faced a tough decision – who should be saved?

“Save this man,” said the first doctor, pointing to the man on the left. “He is a good man, a pillar of his community. That other man is a thief and a gang member; I recognize him from police broadcasts.”

“Save this man,” said the second doctor, also pointing to the man on the left. “He attends my church; he is a devout believer who has always followed the laws of our Lord. This other man is not a Christian; in fact, I have seen him vandalize church buildings and have heard him curse good believers.”

“Save this man,” said the third doctor, also pointing to the man on the left. “He has a good wife, and children that he has raised to be upright and moral. This other man has no family; he uses and abuses women at his whim. He is violent and immoral; why should we waste our only dose of antidote on him?”

Then Jesus walked forward. “Give me the antidote,” he said.

The doctors gave him the antidote, confident that he would make the right decision.

And Jesus went over to the man on the right and gave him the antidote, turning to watch with sad eyes as the man on the left died.

“Why did you do that?” asked the doctors. “He is not a Christian. He is evil, immoral – a violent criminal. The other man was a good man. Why did you not save him?”

And Jesus answered, “You are right. The man who died was all you said, and the man who lives is also as you said. But the man who died is now in heaven; his place was guaranteed by his belief in me.

“This man, on the other hand, is still in need of saving. I gave him the antidote so that he would live longer, and hopefully, someone will help him live into eternity.

“The Father wants none of his children to die; so, why do you save those who have no need of it? Instead, save those who need it most.”