Natural (Easter - Day 24)

(Based on Colossians 1:15-23)

Paul claims that we have been brought over to God's side by Christ, and our lives have been put together, whole and holy in his presence. He also claims that all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe - people and things, animals and atoms - are getting properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross. So spacious and roomy is he that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding.

Outside the window I'm looking through, there's a tree lying on the ground. It's dead. Due to some strong winds recently, the barely standing tree was knocked down, snapping the bungie cords that held it together. It's been lying there for a few weeks. In a few more weeks, it will probably lose its limbs. A few weeks after that, it will probably start breaking apart. In a few more weeks, it will probably become worm food. A few weeks after that, it will probably be broken down into smaller parts. A few weeks after that, I will probably see something that looks like sawdust on the ground around it. A few weeks after that, I will probably find mushrooms and fungi near the trunk. A few weeks after that, I will probably only find a few remnants of what used to be a vibrant, growing tree. A few weeks after that, there will be green grass growing, possibly some flowers, where the tree used to stand. 

When I look at the window, I don't see a dying tree. I see a tree that is contributing to a vibrant, growing, energetic world. It's physical characteristics may be changing, but inside it are processes and chemical changes that are occurring that are going to provide sustenance and nourishment for the ecosystem around it. The physical tree won't last, but underneath the surface energy and forces are at work to benefit the life of the organisms around it. 

We don't live in a dying world. Our world is alive with energy, vitality, and processes that are contributing to life and more life. There is an endless cycle of life in the natural world that seems to get pushed under the rug when it comes to the topic of eternity. What is normal is life and energy. 

The claim that Jesus died for us, brought us over to God's side, and began the process of fixing and fitting together everything in vibrant harmony, shouldn't be that far off from what we witness in the physical world right in front of our eyes. We don't see the processes in dead trees that contribute to life in other organisms, yet we know it's there. We see grubs and fungi feeding off the decay, but we can't see how exactly that energy is turning and morphing into other energies. Yet, we believe it's happening. 

What if despite what we see in the physical world, we deny that everything revolves around life. What if I looked out my window, and I couldn't see the blue sky, hear the birds sing, see the fish jumping in the pond, or see the acres of green grass. What if all I was able to see was a dying tree that was meaningless, had no chance of contributing to the world, but was destined to die a miserable, purposeless life after a meaningless, purposeless existence? 

As with the natural world, there is a tendency to talk about salvation and eternity in a way that promotes this idea that everything . . . is . . . dying a slow . . . slow . . . death. 

Yet, we touch the grass, see the birds, and watch the fish. We see life replace death, and death contribute to more life. Is it possible that the story of Jesus is simpler than some narratives have put it? Is it possible that what we see in this life is no different than what we'll see in the next?

I wish I could say this conversation, being that it's completely philosophical and far-reaching, is irrelevant to real life. But, it isn't. The way we view the universe, and salvation, and God, and eternity, and redemption, and Jesus, directly affects the way we view real life. 

If we see real life through the lens of a dying world, things don't look too prosperous. It's hard to tell there's a vibrant world beyond the fallen, dying tree. If we look at life through the lens of eternal death, then it's nearly impossible to see the worms and fungi that are feeding off the nutrients in the tree to provide sustenance to other organisms, which in turn provides sustenance to even more organisms. 

When we see real life through the lens of a world that is constantly being restored, redeemed, and reclaimed, we see a tree that has spent it's time well, and is contributing to even more life to the relationships around it. It's death is a parting gift to the life around it, and though the physical features don't stick around long, the processes and events going on inside keep going, and going, and going. 

When we view real life through the lens of a God who is restoring all things - people, animals, and atoms - we find that the concept is no different than what we're used to seeing when we simply take a look out the window to the natural world. We love more. We promote life more. We think more about how we can add to our own lives as well as the lives around us. Believing in a God who is for us and has redeemed us, and views us as perfect and whole beings created in his image, just like the wildflowers in the meadow, rockets us into a dimension in which life is everlasting. 

Today's Action: Think about what it is that keeps us from believing in a God of restoration, a God who has made us whole, a God who has saved us from death. Do one thing today that promotes life, whether it be with a person or a plant.