Beyond The Garden

The second event that had a remarkable effect on me was the times I would meditate under a large pine tree in our front yard.  I had a little red wagon that I pulled everywhere I went.  Upon arrival at my destination, my tree of consolation, I sat in the wagon to contemplate.  The most frequent thoughts concerned the origin of God.  I had been told that in the beginning there was no one but him; and, out of nothing, he created the world and all that was in it.  Now this blew my mind.  I lounged in my wagon for hours to try to imagine nothing but a live person hovering around for eternity.  Then one day he spoke and the world came into being. . .  Perhaps this one thing led to my quest to find some answers more than any other. From where did God come?  I asked my parents where I came from and I was given a long tale about a stork.  In the ole outhouse where the older boys had found their phalluses, I found out the truth.  I really wanted to believe the former story.

To get beyond the garden has been a life time dream. A more profound inspiration seems to compel me back to the garden.  Herein the quest begins.  Not that I have arrived, but I have found some answers which bring a great deal of satisfaction. The odd part about it, I have come to them on my own only to find later others who feel the same way I do.  What a joy to know others are searching also.  The search requires us to go to the beginning of time according to all of the knowledge handed down.  Each has its own way of trying to express truth of an endeavor to find meaning, or freedom to be human, in the midst of struggles which surround every person.   Hopefully the readers will put their own experiences into the mix to find their own meaning for existence.  Remember, from where we come has a lot to do with where we are going, but it should not pigeon-hole us either.  Also, I hope the readers have a private church where they can discuss these issues over against the prevailing thought patterns of our day.  As for me, I am only a seeker on a quest to know myself.  The hard part is to put off all those things which I have held for so long which bring me down.

I knew not the terms used to describe thoughts of which I had discovered prior to my inquiries.  Writers like Rudolph Bultmann, Erich Fromm, Will Campbell, Joseph Campbell, Scott Peck, and Nathaniel Hawthorne, to name a few,  guided me to a better understanding of the theology I came to hold.  Terms like transcendence, antinomianism, theism, deism, and monotheism became subjects of pursuit.  Not only were these authors helpful, technology gave me the internet where any subject desired rested at my fingertips.

The storyline falls in three sections.  Section one attempts to show that all systems of thought about the creation of mankind infer that all came from the earth by the creative force of life which unmistakably shows us as brothers and sisters.   Section two involves the nature by which all men and women experience the Garden of Eden.  The womb is the first place; while the magical world of childhood follows with both showing certain imprints which shape our lives.  Section three endeavors to show how those events shape our lives with an idea of how to come to our true selves by transcending (even thought we may keep some of our earlier beliefs)  to a realm of worth and value exhorted by Jesus Christ and other leaders of world religions.

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Here is a modern day parable for our consideration:

Once upon a time in a galaxy much like our own lived a pure colony of black birds.  They enjoyed an idyllic life which was afforded to them by a generous benefactor.  On certain days they would assemble to learn more about the holy life to which they were called to live.  Of course, autonomous orators were not allowed to speak.  They would however, take in small, frail neophytes from other flocks from time to time to teach them the way.  Quite often the generosity of the holistic black birds overwhelmed the fragile vagabonds.  One such little sparrow had come for a visit to see first hand of their worship.

During the stay of our little Chi-chi in this pristine setting, great harm was done to another bird of her ilk that had come to visit the sparrow.  It seemed the pilgrim, the sparrow’s friend, was gay; and she, of all things, used a colorful expletive now and again.  Her benefactors needed to purify the holy land where they lived; so they maimed the small bird while she visited her friend whom the black birds had ‘taken in.’  When the small adoptee contested their action, they turned on her.  “How could she,” they reasoned, “think differently than we do when we have shown her ‘the way, the truth and the light?’” They therefore concluded the little girl bird, their protégé, would have to leave for they could not accept her questioning them.  With liberty and malice to one, they soon received another to take her place.  “We will give our love to the ones who appreciate it,” they resolved. They had duped another orphan from afar to love and to shower with affection as shown by their master.