Eternal Life Makes You Better

During the years we lived in Bremerton, Washington I took our two eldest into the wilds of the Olympic National Park. Arguably one of the most beautiful places in the world, the Olympics, as they are known, are a ring of peaks and ridges rising from sea level to glaciers at 10,000 feet. 

It takes about two days of hiking to reach the heart of the park, the meadows and valleys, streams and lakes inside the bowl formed by the ring of mountains. Once inside this bowl it is as if you are in creation, in the eternal. There is a feeling of God's garden, endless beginning.

              To make this hike in and out we would take tents, ground pads, highly rated sleeping bags, a stove, a water filtration system.  Of course there was food, first aid kit, and my wife’s only insistence, a map.  We each carried about fifty pounds up and down the steep terrain.

              So many lessons, memories, images stay with me.  One lesson, something we thought we knew but had only just begun to understand, one lesson “leave no trace” became remarkably clear one early evening after our hike was done.  A man, probably in his late sixties, simply appeared. Had no pack, only a small rucksack the size of a football.  On his waist a knife was clipped as well as a small water bottle.

              He was curious about our trail, what we saw.  When asked where he had been he implied he had been through most of the trails, been walking for more than six weeks.  Then it hit me.  He had no supplies, no tent or sleeping bag.  He was simply walking and foraging.  We invited him to dinner and he accepted.  Then the most curious thing happened, he said, “well, I am going to sleep now.”  He walked out onto the meadow took out a mylar blanket from his small sack, wrapped himself up, laid down, and was soon asleep.  When we woke in the morning he was gone.

              When considering the exchange of Jesus with the rich man, how hard it is for a camel to pass through the eye of the needle, I thought about the man walking for months with nothing but beauty and us carrying such weight.  It was not so much I want to spend two months foraging in the Olympics, but I was and still am quite impressed by how he went with nothing.

              The Olympics are a great teacher.  Another memory coming closely on the heals of the one who left no trace, the other conjured memory this week was a moment, what some might call a snow leopard moment.  We were once again deep in the park.  This time in a very high valley with alpine lakes fed by glacial streams.  We were camped on the edge of the tree line with craggy peaks, ridges rising above us. 

              In such a place the sunset happens fast.  Darkness comes quickly.  Yet, if you are lucky and you are standing in the right place and just happen to look up at the right time, you can watch the twilight ignite the Indian Paintbrush.  The flowers are lit up.  The mountainside itself turns a deep blue, and this is what makes the flower seem to combust.  The flame of color lasts for about five minutes and then it’s gone, the flowers become a dark silhouette yielding the stage to the stars.  

              I am very lucky.  I have seen amazing works of art, places of grandeur, beautiful souls, but somehow, Indian Paintbrush in the twilight of the Olympics is the most splendid of all.  Part of the splendor is how many factors need to line up, how many moving parts there are, and then how fleeting it all is. 

              When Jesus tells the rich man, lay aside all you have and follow me, and when Luke says the man was sad, I am sad too.  I am sad because there is a voice in me saying, “you could have seen the Indian Paintbrush at twilight,” “you could have walked in freedom and splendor and you turned aside.”

              Just before I suggested seeing Indian Paintbrush above the tree line is a snow leopard moment.  A snow leopard moment is a reference to a famous story about a man trying to glimpse one of the most elusive creatures on earth.  He sought the leopard for a longtime with no success.  It was only when he stopped looking, when he wasn’t trying, he met his desire.  He saw it.  A snow leopard moment is a recognition of how beauty must come to us, must find us more than we can ever find it.  This moment of splendor come to you, I believe, is what Jesus calls the kingdom of God, eternal life, near at hand, here and now.

              When Jesus tells the rich ruler to sell all he has, give it to the poor, and then come and follow him, he is not being cruel.  In someways this is one of the most gracious exchanges of Jesus.  The gospels have only a few instances where Jesus invites people to follow him.  This is rare air.  This too makes me sad for the man.  To walk in freedom in search of beauty, eternal life with Jesus, what a moment, he was so close to what Simone Weil calls falling upward, grace defying gravity, he was so close and he turned away.

              Our lesson today, the two exchanges, the first with the rich ruler and the second with the disciples, these exchanges are in some ways a spoiler, or trailer, or synopsis of the Book of Ecclesiastes.  What the gospel writers record as brief exchanges, the Old Testament wisdom book Ecclesiastes records as a long meditation, deep reflection on the futility of life and the aching desire for satisfaction, to inherit eternal life. It is as if between the call of Jesus and sadness of the man, it as if the Book of Ecclesiastes is contained in the pause, fills the silence by describing the quest of the king for wisdom, for satisfaction, for joy and pleasure.

              For the most part what people know of the king's quest for satisfaction is the famous poem about seasons and time in chapter three.  We have Pete Seeger and the Byrds to thanks for their popular recording, Turn, Turn, Turn.  Were it not for them I wonder if anyone would ever know of this Old Testament book.  Ecclesiastes is a long, dark rumination.  The author is very honest about how joy eludes him. He speaks of desire, the struggle for satisfaction, but mostly unmet desire, dissatisfaction. This is sad.  Perhaps why most people don't read the book. 

              In Hebrew the word for desiring satisfaction is "yethron"; it means advantage, success, but more than this.  Sheryl Crow came close, "it's not getting what you want; it's wanting what you got."  Satisfaction.  As the Rolling Stones suggest, satisfaction is not easy to get. This is the theme running through all the reflections of Ecclesiastes.  I looked for satisfaction here, and here, and here, and here, but it was not to be found. I could get no satisfaction. 

              I just read a study by a sociologist who explores satisfaction.  Arthur Brooks teaches at Harvard, the business school.  The object of his research is an odd fit, a contradiction to what I would assume is the ethos of the institution.  Brooks is describing how success, achievement, notoriety, fame are hollow without the ability to feel satisfaction.  He is a warning to all the overachievers: without the ability to enjoy, truly feel satisfaction, everything you do here is in vain. It is as if he is trying to convince the rich ruler, give it all away, sell all the stuff, because a good life is not the sum of your degrees or the money in the bank.  You can't take it with you.

              Often Brooks sounds much more like the Dalai Lama than a Harvard Business School professor.  In the same way, in the second exchange Jesus sounds a lot more like Buddha than the gospel of success, the theology of conquerors.  What Jesus is saying to the disciples is the principle of detachment taught by Buddha.  To gain freedom you must lose, lay aside, empty yourself.  Only then can you love without the compulsion to control, only then can you find a peace beyond quieted fear, only then can your joy become the depth of satisfaction.

              This is the promise of return.  Peter says, "hey we have left everything to follow you." And Jesus says don't worry.  You will have much more in the end.  But Jesus' response is tricky.  Without the Buddhist dimension it is almost as if Jesus says, "you get paid back."  If you sacrifice, then you will gain more.  There is a big payday for early investors.  What he says can be read as such and has been. 

              A much more profound understanding though is this: in the losing, in the laying aside, in the detachment what you regain is more because now your love is free, how you live is now true, not false. It's not you get your stuff back.  The promise of Jesus and Buddha is this: in detachment you are born anew because you lay aside the fear causing your hands to clutch what is not eternal.  If you can find the path were beauty carries you, if your heart is emptied it is as if you live in the right place at the right time to see the Indian Paintbrush ignite in the twilight.

              What must I do to inherit eternal life? 

              I believe we are so intimidated by the direction of Jesus, sell all your possessions and give the money to the poor, I believe we are so shocked by this direction, we forget the question giving rise to the exchanges.

              What must I do to inherit eternal life?

              Jesus tells the man to keep the commandments because an ethical life creates freedom.  Then he adds, you lack one thing.  Again, we get caught up in the call to sell all possessions we can forget to ask, what does the rich ruler lack?  What is the one thing he lacks?

              He lacks satisfaction.

              This is what the king lacks in Ecclesiastes, what he searches for in riches, in pleasure, in wisdom, and folly.  He lacks "yethron" the ability to want what you got, a peace coming from the beauty of life, a sense of wellness you cannot grasp because satisfaction must come to you.  He lacks satisfaction.                I believe he not only lacks satisfaction, he is also not ready to receive it, he is not free from the weight of fear, the fifty pounds of stuff we carry up and down the valleys of life.  He is not free to follow without the false riches, without control, without vanity.

              Imagine for just a moment, pause and consider, what a different story this would have been if the rich ruler said, okay. What a different story if he said, I'll be right back.  What if he had quoted Jesus back to him and said, well, what good is it to gain the whole world and lose your soul?

              Imagine for a moment we move to the end of our life, the days and nights of our time.  Pause for a moment, consider, in the end most people realize, come to understand eternal life was always there.  Most people see the stuff, the clutter of the house, the stuff and clutter of the soul as weight they didn't need to carry.  Most people see this near the end of life, the ones you love are Indian Paintbrush lit by twilight. 

              Consider how our life could be lived in freedom here and now if we lose everything to gain the satisfaction of freedom.  Consider freedom as here, now.  The path is before us.  What if we said, "okay?" Not a sad story.  Amen.