Till Kingdom Come
I once had a friend post an intriguing passage on Facebook. I'm not able to dig it up, but he wrote about going back as an adult to look over his old children's books that he read when he was a very young kid. He was surprised by how much the moral messages of the books resonated with him. He ended with a question: just how much had reading these books as a kid influenced him and his own ethos as an adult?
When I was very young, a distant cousin of mine, a much older man, gave me a children's book called "The Selfish Giant". The story itself, I later learned, was actually a fairy tale written by Oscar Wilde. It had been put into book form and illustrated by a publisher looking (presumably) to make a buck off of a work in the public domain.
The story is simple and short (you can read it here if you'd prefer I don't spoil it for you): a giant living alone in a castle has a garden in which children play after school. One day he kicks them out and builds a wall to keep them out, because he's grumpy and wants to be left alone. Eternal winter descends onto the garden, and spring never blooms.
One day the giant wakes up and sees that the children have snuck into the garden through a hole in the wall. One tiny child is trying to climb onto the branches of a large tree. The giant rushes out into his garden, and all the children the scatter, save for the one tiny child. The giant goes over and helps him into the tree. Spring returns to the garden, and the snow melts. The giants tears down the wall, and lets the children back into play.
Years pass, and as the giant lies on his deathbed, the tiny child returns, the same age as he was many years ago. The giant notices wounds on the child's hands and feet, and demands to know who hurt the child, so that he might avenge them. The giant asks the child who he is, and the child replies: "You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise."
The implication here is that the young child is Jesus. This story was Oscar Wilde's distillation of what he felt was the essence of the Christian religion into a fairy tale.
The biblical passage from which this was (presumably) derived is one of my favorite passages in the New Testament. I should preface this by saying that, after the events of 2016, I no longer think of myself as being a Christian. (I barely did before that, anyway.) That said, I'm still fascinated by Christianity, as a religion, as a cultural phenomenon in the US, and I still pick up the New Testament and read the gospels on a semi-regular basis.
Before I share the passage, some context is in order: exactly who the historical Jesus of Nazareth was, and what he taught, is largely unknown, and a matter of conjecture based on what little historical evidence we have access to. One of the beliefs with stronger support (according to some historians) is that Jesus was an apocalyptic Jewish preacher. You know those guys who stand on street corners and claim that the end is nigh? That the world is about to be destroyed by God, and the good and evil people separated? Jesus was, more than likely, one of those guys, who taught in the synagogues. On several occasions in the gospels he assures his followers that the world will end within a generation.
The passage in question is the Parable of the Sheep and Goats: Matthew 25:31-46. In the parable, the end of the world has come, and the Lord has returned to judge the people in the world, to judge who's been naughty and who's been nice. So what makes the good judged as good?
"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'"
This can be found back in Jewish scripture, at the start of Psalm 41, phrased much more simply: "Blessed are those who consider the weak and the poor."
I'm not sure what to make of this, in terms of practical applications. I've never had the strong sense that there's a life after this one, and that I'm going to be judged based on how I lived. There are those who would say that Jesus wasn't the son of God, but was merely a man who taught great moral philosophy. While that's a nice thought, we must remember that he was preaching his morals in the context of impending apocalypse. Repent, and do good, and you will get into heaven! His teachings were not, so to speak, offered in a metaphysical vacuum.
As long as I can remember, this attitude has resonated with me. When I grew up (and I'm acting as though this event is in the past, not the future!) I came to learn that this is very antithetical to the inner workings of human nature. I do wonder what impact this has had on the world in the wake of Jesus' death and in the rise of Christianity around the world. But we must remember that it wasn't Christianity that conceived first of this idea that we should be mindful of, and help, the less fortunate. If you do a prior art search, you'll find plenty of this in Hinduism and Buddhism. The idea has piggybacked onto the spread of almost every major religion. Why?
I also wonder if it makes sense to live this way, even without the hope of a reward in some supposed afterlife. I wonder why I'm drawn to live this way, to give to those in need. I wonder if I could ever pass a beggar on the street, not give them anything, and avoid feeling a little pang of guilt about it. Perhaps I got infected with the idea at too young an age.
When I was very young, a distant cousin of mine, a much older man, gave me a children's book called "The Selfish Giant". The story itself, I later learned, was actually a fairy tale written by Oscar Wilde. It had been put into book form and illustrated by a publisher looking (presumably) to make a buck off of a work in the public domain.
The story is simple and short (you can read it here if you'd prefer I don't spoil it for you): a giant living alone in a castle has a garden in which children play after school. One day he kicks them out and builds a wall to keep them out, because he's grumpy and wants to be left alone. Eternal winter descends onto the garden, and spring never blooms.
One day the giant wakes up and sees that the children have snuck into the garden through a hole in the wall. One tiny child is trying to climb onto the branches of a large tree. The giant rushes out into his garden, and all the children the scatter, save for the one tiny child. The giant goes over and helps him into the tree. Spring returns to the garden, and the snow melts. The giants tears down the wall, and lets the children back into play.
Years pass, and as the giant lies on his deathbed, the tiny child returns, the same age as he was many years ago. The giant notices wounds on the child's hands and feet, and demands to know who hurt the child, so that he might avenge them. The giant asks the child who he is, and the child replies: "You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise."
The implication here is that the young child is Jesus. This story was Oscar Wilde's distillation of what he felt was the essence of the Christian religion into a fairy tale.
The biblical passage from which this was (presumably) derived is one of my favorite passages in the New Testament. I should preface this by saying that, after the events of 2016, I no longer think of myself as being a Christian. (I barely did before that, anyway.) That said, I'm still fascinated by Christianity, as a religion, as a cultural phenomenon in the US, and I still pick up the New Testament and read the gospels on a semi-regular basis.
Before I share the passage, some context is in order: exactly who the historical Jesus of Nazareth was, and what he taught, is largely unknown, and a matter of conjecture based on what little historical evidence we have access to. One of the beliefs with stronger support (according to some historians) is that Jesus was an apocalyptic Jewish preacher. You know those guys who stand on street corners and claim that the end is nigh? That the world is about to be destroyed by God, and the good and evil people separated? Jesus was, more than likely, one of those guys, who taught in the synagogues. On several occasions in the gospels he assures his followers that the world will end within a generation.
The passage in question is the Parable of the Sheep and Goats: Matthew 25:31-46. In the parable, the end of the world has come, and the Lord has returned to judge the people in the world, to judge who's been naughty and who's been nice. So what makes the good judged as good?
"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'"
This can be found back in Jewish scripture, at the start of Psalm 41, phrased much more simply: "Blessed are those who consider the weak and the poor."
I'm not sure what to make of this, in terms of practical applications. I've never had the strong sense that there's a life after this one, and that I'm going to be judged based on how I lived. There are those who would say that Jesus wasn't the son of God, but was merely a man who taught great moral philosophy. While that's a nice thought, we must remember that he was preaching his morals in the context of impending apocalypse. Repent, and do good, and you will get into heaven! His teachings were not, so to speak, offered in a metaphysical vacuum.
As long as I can remember, this attitude has resonated with me. When I grew up (and I'm acting as though this event is in the past, not the future!) I came to learn that this is very antithetical to the inner workings of human nature. I do wonder what impact this has had on the world in the wake of Jesus' death and in the rise of Christianity around the world. But we must remember that it wasn't Christianity that conceived first of this idea that we should be mindful of, and help, the less fortunate. If you do a prior art search, you'll find plenty of this in Hinduism and Buddhism. The idea has piggybacked onto the spread of almost every major religion. Why?
I also wonder if it makes sense to live this way, even without the hope of a reward in some supposed afterlife. I wonder why I'm drawn to live this way, to give to those in need. I wonder if I could ever pass a beggar on the street, not give them anything, and avoid feeling a little pang of guilt about it. Perhaps I got infected with the idea at too young an age.