The Harbinger

Another reality we often forget is that we are not alone in our story.  There are many stories, and many sub-plots.  There are many plot lines going many ways.  Where we get dropped off is just one particular point, but nevertheless the crossing of a thousand generations.

We are part of a story that never ends.  One that will be transformed.  Cyclical karmic suffering until we finally climb our way to nothingness sounds terrible.  And it would be.  Thankfully that is not what we are speaking about here.  Time being cyclical does not mean fatalistic.

It means rythem.  And like most things in life time is BOTH chronological AND cyclical.  It is both.  The circular nature of our chronological time (weekly/monthly rythems) keeps time from being an over-Lord.  It gives grace to the progress of chronos.  We can make it.  We CAN.

We can make it to next Friday.  Or to the end of the quarter.  Or to the next full moon.  We can get through whatever it is we have to get through IF we know there is an end in sight.  There is an end in sight!  Time is not allowed to straighten itself out on us.  Not yet.

So where is cyclical-chronological time taking us?  Are we endlessly progressing toward a utopian vision of world peace OR is there certain self-destruction coming our way?  Is the earth finally going to spit us out once and for all?  Are we headed toward certain cosmic heartbreak?

How we understand and answer this question determines a great deal about our perspective.

Every story has to end, even if another chapter is coming.  And while some are content to say the story simply ends with our death, most of us are not.  There must be more.  There must be some telos (purpose) behind the story.  Life must be leading us somewhere,

toward something.

Our story must somehow be connected to The Story.  That something grand is being written with and around our lives is not wishful thinking but reality.  How will we welcome the Author?  How will we submit to The storyline?  How will tomorrow shake out anyway?

To acknowledge there is a master storyline is to admit that we can not be its author.  It is to recognize that we are simply a small part of a much bigger story.  It does not make our part less significant.  If one part of the story fails, the whole thing fails.

All of The Story is connected.

Let’s be clear: we are all desperate for a meta-narrative.  We are told by sophisticatedly depressed people it is only a myth.  “We are on our own.  There is no connective story.  Each person is in their own isolated story.”  They recommend courage to live “your truth.”

Wow!

But what if, simply and respectively, they are wrong?  What if all that undo angst and isolation is actually based on a lie?  Wouldn’t that be a tragedy?  It would mean, dreadfully, that we are choosing to be isolated.  We are keeping ourselves from willing help.

How sad?  We made ourselves miserable and blamed a God we do not believe in for the grief.  That would be terrible.  Despair, as hard as it sounds to say, is a choice.  It is a terrible one, but nevertheless, one we must own.  It is NOT the inevitable result of our existence here.

Nor is it the logical consequence.  If we are despairing, it is because we are not looking at reality correctly.  Something has become distorted.  Some good thing has been misordered.  Something about reality and our perception is completely misaligned.  To put it simply:   

We are believing a lie.