what is it like?

 

He doesn't know it, nor does he even know that I exist, but Bart Ehrman is my favorite Bible scholar, and one of my favorite thinkers in general. I have, and renew yearly, a subscription to his blog, which now and then I bring up on my computer screen to read a few posts. Not as often as I might enjoy if I did it more frequently, but now and then. 

Most recently, his blogposts about Matthew, but also, last evening, his musing about his daily practice of meditation, which in this case was self-reflection about what it means to be himself. 

Because I myself do this sort of masochistic torment, I found reading his approach to it, and the responses of numerous blog members, uncommonly self-identifying, self-related. What is it like to be me, and what about when I am gone and all that I am, which is only possible because of my physical human composition, all this will no longer Be, all that I AM dissipates? Seems a shame, like such a waste. I have all this stuff that I know, and my experiences of life and loves, that in Time will no longer Be - - what once was me will be just as non-existent as the thoughts and memories and experiences of some anonymous batman to some anonymous lieutenant who died leading a platoon fighting in the army of one of Philip II's subordinate generals in 352 BC. I say that as a way to indicate the dark oblivion of total inconsequence. Does God remember, could God name that anonymous lieutenant's servant, and that most insignificant man's hopes and loves and memories and dreams? 

A favorite, Psalm 90 contemplates well, go read it if you are so inclined.

Reading down into Professor Ehrman's readers' responses, I also went off on a tangent and read again, or maybe for the first Time, Thomas Nagel's essay, "What Is It Like To Be A Bat?" Which interests or even concerns me as I've written here before, my concern about what it might be like to be a huge Florida palmetto bug that we call a roach. What is it like to be that bug waiting for the safety of darkness before venturing out to see what I might have dropped on the kitchen floor, or under this chair where I snacked? Or, what is it like, in the mullet's experience, to be plucked from the Bay just outside my window here, and carried away in an osprey's claws to his nest and be torn apart and eaten for breakfast as the mullet jumps and flaps. I've watched many ospreys having their meal, always, they start by jerking and ripping off the fish's mouth. What interesting grand design - -

does the mullet wonder "Why? Why ME?" Maybe knowing what it's like to be that mullet whose Creator destined it for sacrifice, or to be the eagle who snatched the mullet from the osprey in flight, might help me immeasurably in my endless seeking the truth about the Creator.

Or, assuming the octopus has experience, what is it like, in the octopus' point of view, to be hiding, watching and waiting for its next prey to swim by? Does the octopus ever experience impatience? Fear? Lust? And if the octopus were caught alive from the sea and brought up to my boat, what would it be like to be the octopus? Would it wonder what I am or what it's like to be me, its captor? I am humanizing a sentient Being whose sentience is totally other.

Obviously, I don't have enough to do seeking the truth about God, that I wander off worrying about such things, eh?

Who or What is God? My theology professor's answer was to relate God to a particular set of human stories about earthy experiences, that God is Whoever or Whatever lead Israel out of Egypt, God is Whoever or Whatever Jesus called Father, God is Whoever or Whatever raised Jesus from the dead. But that's our particular Christian experience and perspective, and may not be the experience of an evangelical Christian - - Who or What is God to a 21st century White evangelical Christian, that God is Whoever or Whatever makes me as sure for Heaven as if I'm already there once I accept Christ as my personal savior? (that rather puts God under my control). Who or What is God to a Jew, God might be Whoever or Whatever gave the land of Canaan to Abram/Abraham; but that surely is not Who of What God is to a Canaanite, Palestinian, eh? Who or What is God to a Roman Catholic? to a Black Christian in America? to a Black Christian in Africa? to a Muslim? to a Buddhist? to that mullet? to a human atheist? to an octopus? to a porpoise? to the osprey whom I watch shrieking with apparent victory as s/he carries the mullet back to the nest? At the basic, Who or What is God to God? What is it like, in God's experience, to be God?

Is God obsessed with punishing me for my sins? I believe not, I don't believe God is that small.

In Nagel's question, what is it like to be a bat? Not from a human perspective, but what is it like in the bat's experience to be a bat, assuming that we are correct in assuming that the bat has experience? Does the bat experience himself/herself? A rock, for example, does not have experience, but a bat is a living thing that has experience, what is that experience like to the bat?

And, again, can the bat, whose vision is not like human vision, but his/her innate radar, have the experience of wondering what it's like to be me? 

IDK. In truth, IDK nothing, nomesane?

What is it like to be a sentient Being on a planet in a galaxy beyond the sight of the James Webb Space Telescope? Can it see as I see, or is its sensing totally different from anything I can even imagine?

Again, remembering Mr. Spock on Startrek, his sentience was not human, his experience of Being logical and not emotional was different from that of other crew members - - the episode when the crew members on the Starship Enterprise were devolving to their basic ancestral Beings, Mr. Spock changing back into a giant arachnid, what was it like to be Mr. Spock? To say, "well, that doesn't count, because Mr Spock wasn't real" would be stupid: Mr Spock is as real as the Good Samaritan in Jesus' parable about him.

And if God loves me, does God love the Being on a planet in a distant galaxy among the two trillion or so galaxies in the Universe/Creation? That Being, by the way, is untold millions or billions of light years away, which in our earthly experience puts it in the distant past, so in real Time that Being likely dead now, does God remember it, still love it?

Something about my contemplations this early morning. The Time will surely come when I no longer ponder such absurdities. 

And I'm already back on the preaching schedule: what should I preach on next Time? Paul and my Lutheran professors might say Preach Christ Crucified. The professors at my Episcopal seminary (I went to both) might say No, preach about respecting the dignity of every human being. IDK.

What would Bishop Budde preach about? Probably about our baptismal covenant and its question, "Will you respect the dignity of every human being?" Not every Christian believes, as we profess to, that that is basic to our humanity and our Christianity.

RSF&PTL

T89&c

incidentally: I fully realize that one of my sins is that I have my own deep prejudices and contempts. I am truly sorry, and I humbly repent, but they keep returning to my Being.