May 14, 2008

• The rise of narcissim in our culture does not surprise me, given the construct of the average life of people my age today.  The world is designed today such that it will give the appearance that life is all about each person individually.  

  While growing up every person has their own room, is provided early on with a cell-phone, has their own page on the internet, has an entire day each year devoted to them, and for the first time ever in history people pick their spouses based on their own personal preference.  All these things form the shape of our lives, and thus also our thinking.  It is clearly predictable from this lineup that each person’s thoughts are going to tend towards thinking about themself; after all, everything around them suggests that everything is about them!  Life, as it is lived today, is an entity of self-managed affairs, where each person organizes, chooses, and arranges their lives from start to finish exactly the way they want it to be.  How infinitely opposite this is to what a disciple of Jesus is supposed to be.  A disciple of Jesus is supposed to forfeit his life, pick up his cross, and follow Jesus.  I wouldn’t expect anyone from such a narcissistic culture to follow Jesus. 

  There are several things wrong with this.  First, look around at all of nature, at the beauty of the heavens, at the awesome nature of living life at all.  Ought we not be stunned with gratitude at this amazing reality we have been given?  We have been given life; it is not to our own credit that we are here.  Our very bodies, too, we have been given. 

  Imagine driving in a car you have bought with your own money.  But then suddenly imagine gaining the realization that the car is actually not yours, but is owned by someone you know.  What will you do now?  Obviously, you will drive very carefully, realizing that it is not a possession of your own to be carelessly managed, but a gift or a loan that needs to be managed accordingly. 

  Second, shouldn’t people who assume that reality is all about them demand to know the truth, since they, after all, deserve to know the truth?  It is true that some do this, but that most people are simply careless when it comes to the truth.  Though we remain rich young rulers, today’s rich young rulers do not even ask, ”What must I do to inherit eternal life?”   

  As someone from within this narcissistic paradigm who wants to know the truth, I can testify how hard it is to square with the teachings of Jesus.  I love my life, but he tells me I must give it up to follow him.  How ultimate is this question.  I must consider the two paths and choose one, but my insides squirm with dissatisfaction and terror as I lean towards following Jesus. 

  I imagine the starting position of my life.  I pick what I want to do, where I want to go, what I want to say, and everything in-between.  It is the me show.  And let me face it: I am totally in love with this reality.  How wonderful it is to have a life where it is so easy to imagine that everything is entirely about me.  In a perverted sense of the word, I love myself, my life, that I am the king of my castle, that I am the master of reality.  It is the true desire of the evil dictator deep within me, the motive directing my actions. 

  From my castle, where there is much carousal and merrymaking, I see a traveller walking up the road.  He is a simple man, wearing only a bland tunic.  He stops about a hundred feet from the gate of the castle, which has quieted upon the man’s arrival, and looks up at me.  I am high in the main gatehouse, wearing my crown and robe, arms around harlots at either side, holding goblets of wine in my hands, and I look down at the man, somewhat annoyed that he has disturbed my party.  He points up directly at me and, with an expressionless face, says, ’You.  Come, follow me.’   

  What an outrageous thing to say.  Offensive too.  Can this peasant not see that I have a party to attend to?  A party which I am throwing in my castle, no less?  And besides, if I follow him I cannot see where I will go, for the road disappears as it goes over the hill.  Why go off with him when I already have luxury and entertainment in my castle? 

  And yet, though the demand is outrageous, I still pace the wall thinking of what I should do.  At times I stop and call out, asking if I might bring a few things with me, perhaps some drinks or means of pleasure.  No, the man says.  Tyranny!  Madness!  What could you possibly have that could equal the greatness of all I have here?  This castle is wonderful, I own it, it is mine, and all herein! 

  ‘You own nothing that was not given to you.’

  What impropriety!  You come to my castle and you insult me.  But still, his insult is different from the kind I receive from other people.  It does not annoy me in the same way, for some unknown reason.

  You owe me a sufficient reason for leaving all of this, a statement of promised benefits!  Have you no insurance claim? 

  ‘I promise you life.’

  Squirming.  But I can’t bring anything with me?

  ‘Nothing.’ 

  Many at this point ‘walk away sad, for they had great wealth.’  And it is here I am left morose and sweating, with despair in my eyes, downcast, looking at the man with anguish in my heart. 

  …

  It a paradox understood by few.  Apostles, adventurers, people who live and are always on the move, and decide to submit their life to God, are people who care nothing for their lives precisely for the reason that they know it is the most important thing.  Life is far too precious a thing to cling to.

  • 11:54 pm
  • 2 Comments