The Price

Thump-thump.

Strong, yet soft and vaguely reassuring the sound was the beginning of his awareness. He felt it more than heard it. Thump-thump he turned trying to get closer. Still unaware of anything apart from the sound, its comfort and warmth, he embraced his universe. The extent of his emerging awareness consisted solely of the sound and a vague sense of security.

In his universe there existed no sense of time, of right or left, right or wrong, nor up or down. There was the sound. There had always been the sound. Now he somehow sensed change. Though unaware of the concept of change, he felt it in himself. A small appendage existed where it had not. It fit nicely into the orifice that had also not been there before. Before? Thump-thump, all was well. The sound brought warmth, the warmth of security.

With each change, he became more, and his universe became more with him. His awareness grew enough to notice change, but stopped short of a sense of self as opposed to others. For him there were no others, but the more existed. First among the more was the second sound. A weak sound, but in a familiar rhythm.

From where did this new sound come? Why was it so familiar, so right? He had no words or even thoughts to crystallize this concept, but there it was. His own sound. His own sound made in the image of the sound that ruled his universe. Thump-thump. Much less, faintly audible, but unmistakably there and in perfect harmony with the source. Thump-thump!

He had no sense of harmony, yet he felt it. Still no sense of other, only that of his own changing. He felt his appendages move, and had a sense of relationship with his universe. He felt the rhythm in himself in perfect accord with the sound of the source.

More change. This time movement and force. He felt himself turn with the force. For the first time, he experienced direction. Just at the moment of his awareness of self, his universe was coming to an end.

He was being forced. Forced by the very universe where he had been so safe. Forced where? Out? His universe was not coming to an end; it was rejecting him. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump the source was reverberating everywhere. His little sound beat in unison. New sensation. Bright, hot light that ripped at his face, scalded his still forming skin. Sharp searing pain that ended his self before he could scream in protest.

Some would say that he was better off than being raised by drunken parents who had already abused children and each other. He was certainly better off than those starving urchins that roamed the city streets. Some asked what chance would he have in this cruel world denied the benefits of education. After all, his mother’s disease would likely cause early deafness maybe loss of vision.

Others spoke of the social tragedy that resulted in lives wasted before they began. What about the countless lives ruined by unwanted births? Someone should do something!

None spoke of the genius of the nine symphonies and other music the world would never know. None spoke of the price. Ludwig von Beethoven’s life had been abruptly ended, but not before it had begun.

Don’t make it illegal. Make it unthinkable.

I would never make abortion illegal, but it cannot be a matter of convenience.

A few nights ago I was fortunate to attend a wonderful dinner party at some friends home in Atlanta, During the general conversation I got into a conversation with a friend about the nature and existence of the Devil. What follows is what I would like to have said. It is not new to me and I suspect not completely original in concept.

Satan

"I’d yield me to the Devil instantly,

Did it not happen that myself am he!"

–J. W. von Goethe: Faust: A Tragedy

“Do you believe in the Devil?” she asked.

“I am a monotheist,” I said.

“And – ”

“If you mean by the devil, a rival deity to God, then no I do not. If you mean, do I think the devil, I prefer Satan, is real then my answer is yes.”

“Explain.”

I grew up in South Atlanta and in Augusta, Georgia in near constant fear of the Devil. Like a preternatural Boogie Man he stalked my every move. He was always ready to tempt with the right sin, at the right time, and in just the right way. He pitched evil thoughts and desires into my mind with his trident and encouraged my self indulgent spirit with uncanny aplomb.

The Devil was a tangible presence in my life and the lives of most of the strict-as-Scrooge Metho-Bapterians I knew as a preteen aged child in the religious South. God was more nebulous, less vivid. His works seemed restricted to the times and pages of the Bible. I could feel the Devil working his way in my heart with every improper desire. He twisted his trident in my brain each time an impure thought sprung to life inside my mind. God lived in church and in the Bible, but the Devil was behind every bush, under my bed, and somewhere inside me.

Ranting preachers warned that Satan lurked in the shadows always ready to pounce on the ungodly. Their rants often contained little or no mention of the God of Love as exemplified by Jesus. Not that they slighted Jesus or omitted him from their sermons, but somehow they seemed to miss the point or more accurately the person of Jesus. Perhaps that is why I abandoned my faith and all organized religion for much of my life. I saw no value in a religion that made Satan more real than God. I hold that same view today.

Soon after I embraced the Episcopal Church, I began to see the Devil as Satan, a more abstract evil force than as the trident wielding beast that haunted my youth.

Jesus claimed to be able to quince the everlasting thirst, fulfill the deepest emptiness of our soul. I believe this is accomplished by his indwelling in our soul. To the extent we allow this, we become completed beings. We are here for completion – for Christian Formation.

Today I am frequently terrified by the realization that I was closer to the truth in my youth than in my early Christian rebirth. Satan is everywhere I go. He is below my bed. When I am sailing alone a hundred miles from shore, he has no trouble finding me.

In Genesis Eve is persuaded by the snake to follow her own desires and eat of the forbidden fruit, the fruit of tree of the knowledge of good and evil. When she hands Adam the fruit, there is little debate in his mind. He eats. In the Genesis story the serpent is generally regarded as a third individual, Satan. Suppose for a moment there was no third person present. The only persons in the garden were Eve and Adam. Who then does the serpent represent? I think of the words of the serpent as the interior monologue of Eve and Adam expressing their desire to be self sufficient, independent, in charge. They would be Lord. They would become as He is.

The serpent is in the perfect position to offer Eve and Adam the one thing they cannot resist. From their own narcissistic heart he urges them to become like God. That is our problem to this day. It is our narcissistic self centered nature that speaks our inner desires. The voice of Satan is our own interior monologue. That is the true nature of Satan. When Christ does not dwell in our hearts, it is our true nature. That is our sin.

There are powerful forces in the world that align themselves against God. Forces that would usurp God as sovereign of the only thing God wants. Our hearts. The embodiment of these forces in the New Testament becomes Satan. It is my position that Satan is the unbridled nature of mankind.

Clearly Jesus believed in Satan. When Jesus spoke of his coming passion, Peter was quick to say, “No Lord.”

Jesus immediately rebuked him saying, “Get behind me Satan.” Was Jesus speaking to a vague rival or was he speaking to Peter? It makes sense to me that he was speaking to Peter as Satan. Peter did not understand Jesus’ purpose on earth and judged the prophecy with that flawed understanding. Peter, by way of a misguided mistake, placed himself against the will of God that the Messiah would suffer injustice and die. At that moment, Peter was not influenced by Satan. Peter was Satan.

If Eve and Adam can act the part of Satan, if Peter can be Satan, then so can I. So can we all. Then it is that every good thing I do is by the Spirit of God. Every bad thing I do is by the spirit of Satan, the spirit of my desperately thirsty, incomplete soul. How could Jesus doubt the reality of Satan then when it was he (we) whom Jesus came to save?

To the extent that I place my will above the will of God, Satan lives. To the extent that I push God off the throne of my life I am Satan. In those moments my mind and soul live in darkness where Satan is surely prince. I then am desperate for a savior.

“We have met the enemy, and he is us.”

Pogo