A silent ship hangs above the world, piercing cloud and shadow. Invisible to radar or the naked eye, it waits; a metallic watcher in the heavens. Its sole occupant, a creature of silver skin and three fingers, holds a very curious object. The square object, to humans, a familiar sight. Yet, in that wondrously foreign craft, it is an object completely alien. Obsolete in design, yet beautiful in its primitive honesty.
The three fingered being places the alien object on a flat console, and a rim of light rises to encompass it. There is a soft hum, and the light separates into two squares that ring the object and spin. Then, they descend into the console and the humming ceases.
Another noise is heard; a soft pinging that seems urgent. It is time. The being tucks the object in its silver suit and moves out of the computer core into a smooth and flowing central hall. He enters a large central chamber, lined with a remarkable blue crystalline substance. A wonderful, harmonious sound resonates through the chamber. At the center of the room is a small podium of crystal, lined with metallic silver.
The three fingers of each hand extend over the podium, and the chamber resonates all the more musically.
“Is the survey completed?” The voice comes from everywhere, in and through the being as though it were inside his very mind.
“Yes,” responds the being, “the damage is beyond recovery. The planet’s ecosystem is completely destroyed: no anaerobic bacteria in the soil, no vermicular life forms present. Radiation damage is off the scale.”
“Solar winds?”
“Negative. Fission reaction devices were detonated in the atmosphere and on the ground. There are no survivors.”
“Is this your final report?”
“Yes, director, I am preparing for departure.”
“What have you spent all this time doing? The planet’s condition should have required less time to assess.”
The being hesitates. His three fingered hand stray to the square, earthly object that lay in a pocket of his silver suit, and then back to the podium. “I have conducted archaeological work, to learn more of the history of this race of creatures. I felt that I should use the opportunity, as the survey was clearly useless.”
Silence followed this report for a small space. Light years away, other such beings confer among themselves. “Do you have anything of interest for the archaeological division?” A tone of chastisement can be heard.
“Yes. While their technological development was still very primitive prior to their destruction, I did find something in their record media that interests me. A record kept for several thousand cycles, concerning their beliefs in the Originator.”
"Equally primitive?"
“Remarkably, no. My scans indicate that the final battle was over this record and its claims, primarily between two factions. I have studied the records of both factions, for submission and review.”
"We will send a qualified team for investigation."
“I think it is important to know, director, that some of the events in the final battle were…….beyond our context of understanding. They are unexplained events. The record media in question seems to have predicted this quite accurately and I feel that there is a central figure behind which -”
“Your conclusion is undoubtedly inaccurate. A team of experts is better qualified to judge these matters. Make preparations to get underway. You are reassigned.”
“Yes, director.” The musical harmony comes to a decrescendo, and the being leaves the chamber. Soon, he and his craft will return to the distant world from which they came – a world with many of the same problems of this small blue planet and its now extinct inhabitants. “You are reassigned” had an ominous sound. It meant censure and possibly more. Somehow, however, the three fingered being feels a strange measure of peace. Despite the ravaged world floating beneath him, or the trials that await him at home, he has a feeling of hope.
The committee was not told what was taken back from the small blue planet by its lowly surveyor. In time, however, its effect would reach every shore of every nation on that distant planet.
The legacy of humanity, destroyed in the flames of a final, global war, was not in the calamity of its fall. It was in a book tucked in the silver lining of a three fingered brother; a newborn believer in Jesus Christ.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The Golden Prayer
While I was still a fledgling in faith, I was serving in the Air Force at Fort George G. Meade in Maryland as a military intelligence analyst. For several years I worked in a windowless box, full of ineptitude, apathy, and discouragement. The one thing I took any solace in was my miniature King James New Testament Bible, which I carried in the cargo pocket of my battle fatigues. I would often read it in the break room, or outside in the sunlight where smokers and other outcasts such as myself sought refuge.
At this time, I was newly married, and new in my faith in Christ Jesus. I sought many answers in the Bible, as to how I could get through the misery of my current circumstances. Feeling trapped, I was constantly overwhelmed by a feeling of impossibility to everything. It was impossible to please my superiors, impossible to be recognized for good works, impossible to reach out to others, and impossible to make friends.
I then read Matthew 17:20
And Jesus said unto them, Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.
What brought me to Christ was the search for truth, and I found his testimony to be true. Yet, this passage confused me. How could a man move a mountain, simply by having faith? I had faith, and yet I never felt more powerless or trapped. I went outside to my usual spot to pray and be with the Lord, a picnic bench that none of the smokers bothered to sit at. I wanted to believe that I had the power to move mountains, but I didn’t really believe in miracles.
So, I prayed to the Lord for a miracle, and I was specific. I asked, “Lord, if you really are all powerful, change this picnic table to gold, and then back again. I do not ask this to tempt you, Lord. I only ask for a sign that you are listening, and that you move in all things.”
The Lord responded to me, “I will answer this prayer.”
I must admit, the Lord’s response to me was surprising. Often, when I prayed and asked for things that I knew were probably wrong of me to ask, I felt like the child who asks the parent for something it knows it cannot have simply for the sake of gaining attention. In a way, it is mischief on the part of the child, but sometimes the need is truly there. Sometimes the child needs that taste of your coffee, or to handle the fishing rod, in which case I believe God, like any good parent, accomodates us so that we can learn.
Such was the case in God’s answer to me. I sat, looking at that table, and waiting for it to change. There was the nagging part of my mind, “the realist”, saying, Nothing is going to happen. You’re an idiot for sitting here and staring at something that isn’t going to change. You're deluded to believe that God speaks or that you can hear him. Dumb, stupid idiot!
Of course, this was only the voice of my remaining atheism, which didn't truly believe in God’s power. Finally, this nagging doubt got the better of me, and I started to get up from the table when I felt a still, small voice say “Look down.”I looked down at the table, and in the middle was a fly. The fly was solid gold from head to toe, save the wings which were like flakes of crystal. And, I do not mean yellowish in color. I mean iridescent and burnished, like pure molten metal. I stared at it in wonder for a minute or two before it flew off.
Now, the nagging atheist in me said, It is not a miracle that a fly have golden coloration, nor is it anything more than coincidence that it showed up at a picnic table outside where food is frequently present. The unconscious mind sees what it wants the way it wants, and connects random events together and calls them a miracle.
God gives us many signs that still allow for a choice to be made: to believe or not. Atheists who agree with what the nagging part of my mind stated experience the exact same release as they would accuse of the religious for taking comfort in scripture. If faith is the opiate of the believer, doubt is the opiate of the atheist. If I choose anything other than the dispassionate doubt of atheism, I am guilty of choosing false hope over reality.
Hogwash! That fly was a miracle! I know that it was a miracle, not because it was golden, or because it appeared at that time and in that place. It was a miracle because I felt, very real in that moment, God’s presence in answer to my prayer, and to deny that would be to deny a sense of truth which was not merely academic, but shatteringly personal. It was as real and as personal as the hand of one's mother stroking the face of her child in the crib.
That is the miracle. It is not a miracle that Jesus walked on water. He had all power, and hosts of angels stood by at his command. To one with such power, walking on water is no more miraculous than breathing in and out. And, if you think about it, breathing in and out is a miracle. Life is a miracle! And, that is what I saw in that tiny golden living thing – a thing that I took for granted as detestable and vile. The fact that it was golden was just God showing off. He has every right to, God be praised.
It amazed me that God, with a common housefly and a quiet voice, could do what we would demand of Him with mountain blasting and shouting. We want the flash and booming voice from a God trying to teach us humility. We are surrounded by miraculous events every second, yet we demand a sign from God. The stones cry out, and the heavens shout his name, and we ask “Where is God?” The miracle is not out there. The miracle is in here.
All you need to do is look where God tells you to look.
At this time, I was newly married, and new in my faith in Christ Jesus. I sought many answers in the Bible, as to how I could get through the misery of my current circumstances. Feeling trapped, I was constantly overwhelmed by a feeling of impossibility to everything. It was impossible to please my superiors, impossible to be recognized for good works, impossible to reach out to others, and impossible to make friends.
I then read Matthew 17:20
And Jesus said unto them, Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.
What brought me to Christ was the search for truth, and I found his testimony to be true. Yet, this passage confused me. How could a man move a mountain, simply by having faith? I had faith, and yet I never felt more powerless or trapped. I went outside to my usual spot to pray and be with the Lord, a picnic bench that none of the smokers bothered to sit at. I wanted to believe that I had the power to move mountains, but I didn’t really believe in miracles.
So, I prayed to the Lord for a miracle, and I was specific. I asked, “Lord, if you really are all powerful, change this picnic table to gold, and then back again. I do not ask this to tempt you, Lord. I only ask for a sign that you are listening, and that you move in all things.”
The Lord responded to me, “I will answer this prayer.”
I must admit, the Lord’s response to me was surprising. Often, when I prayed and asked for things that I knew were probably wrong of me to ask, I felt like the child who asks the parent for something it knows it cannot have simply for the sake of gaining attention. In a way, it is mischief on the part of the child, but sometimes the need is truly there. Sometimes the child needs that taste of your coffee, or to handle the fishing rod, in which case I believe God, like any good parent, accomodates us so that we can learn.
Such was the case in God’s answer to me. I sat, looking at that table, and waiting for it to change. There was the nagging part of my mind, “the realist”, saying, Nothing is going to happen. You’re an idiot for sitting here and staring at something that isn’t going to change. You're deluded to believe that God speaks or that you can hear him. Dumb, stupid idiot!
Of course, this was only the voice of my remaining atheism, which didn't truly believe in God’s power. Finally, this nagging doubt got the better of me, and I started to get up from the table when I felt a still, small voice say “Look down.”I looked down at the table, and in the middle was a fly. The fly was solid gold from head to toe, save the wings which were like flakes of crystal. And, I do not mean yellowish in color. I mean iridescent and burnished, like pure molten metal. I stared at it in wonder for a minute or two before it flew off.
Now, the nagging atheist in me said, It is not a miracle that a fly have golden coloration, nor is it anything more than coincidence that it showed up at a picnic table outside where food is frequently present. The unconscious mind sees what it wants the way it wants, and connects random events together and calls them a miracle.
God gives us many signs that still allow for a choice to be made: to believe or not. Atheists who agree with what the nagging part of my mind stated experience the exact same release as they would accuse of the religious for taking comfort in scripture. If faith is the opiate of the believer, doubt is the opiate of the atheist. If I choose anything other than the dispassionate doubt of atheism, I am guilty of choosing false hope over reality.
Hogwash! That fly was a miracle! I know that it was a miracle, not because it was golden, or because it appeared at that time and in that place. It was a miracle because I felt, very real in that moment, God’s presence in answer to my prayer, and to deny that would be to deny a sense of truth which was not merely academic, but shatteringly personal. It was as real and as personal as the hand of one's mother stroking the face of her child in the crib.
That is the miracle. It is not a miracle that Jesus walked on water. He had all power, and hosts of angels stood by at his command. To one with such power, walking on water is no more miraculous than breathing in and out. And, if you think about it, breathing in and out is a miracle. Life is a miracle! And, that is what I saw in that tiny golden living thing – a thing that I took for granted as detestable and vile. The fact that it was golden was just God showing off. He has every right to, God be praised.
It amazed me that God, with a common housefly and a quiet voice, could do what we would demand of Him with mountain blasting and shouting. We want the flash and booming voice from a God trying to teach us humility. We are surrounded by miraculous events every second, yet we demand a sign from God. The stones cry out, and the heavens shout his name, and we ask “Where is God?” The miracle is not out there. The miracle is in here.
All you need to do is look where God tells you to look.
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