death to life.

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.

From the get-go, something had to die in order to maintain life. You might say -- wait! Not true! Nothing died until after the fall when God killed the lamb to set the example of a perfect sacrifice and to clothe adam and eve in order to hide their shame. Not so! In Genesis one, God gives man all "seed-bearing plants" for food. haven't we discovered that plants have life too? So adam and eve required something to die in order for them to maintain health.

This has a lot of implications which, in my life, have been discussed over family dinners as well as my philosophy class. Does that mean that death is not inherently or directly a result of sin? If plants could die, could humans die in the "perfect" earth, but pass straight to heaven?

Here's what's great -- it doesn't matter! That wasn't the plan. When i connected the dots of this semi-obvious revelation, at first my worldview was temporarily and utterly shattered! There was death before the fall! Even if it was a much smaller scale than human death, it was death nonetheless. But after a moment or two's thought, I said to myself -- God knew all along that man would reject him, but before he could, God called him at his own game. Even before we could reject God, he reclaimed us. He prematurely gave us food as a symbol that death sustains life. Something has to be sacrificed in order for us to live.

By no means would I condone Hinduism, but some aspects of it can teach us more about Christianity. They have this system where they theoretically could eat anything (but mostly Hindus are vegitarian), but everything you eat has some life-valule (karma) and when you eat, you rack up karma. a food's karma is dependant on "how alive" it was before you ate it. For example, a carrot has less karma, or guilt, than a pig because it was less alive. and a pig has less karma than a horse, and a horse than a human.
But despite the engaging tangent, the idea to take away (at least for the purpose of this post) is that when we eat we are taking a life to keep our own. this is not to make us feel guilty the way the Hindus do, but rather to make us grateful. granted, the food didn't have much say in the matter, but it gives its life still.





So, ever since this discussion arose at my dinner table, i've kinda been thinking about death and its relationship to life.

I got bamboo this summer, and it's pretty easy to care for. I just keep mine in a vase with water and it grows slowly and stays healthy. I switch the water often enough. But, when I got back from break, I found one of my three bamboo stalks dead. utterly killed. Not thinking about it on any sort of philosophical level, i thought to myself -- well, i guess i'll throw that one out and let the other two live the natural courses of their lives. but luckily, my dear and lovely friend Lydia was near and she said -- it's kinda poetic...

And i thought -- yea it is! so now i have a daily reminder of a number of poetic images and implications and philosophies of death dragging down full encompasing of life; or death allowing life to continue; or whatever else it is my bamboo tells me on any given day!

THEN! today, exciting story.

For valentine's day, my favorite person in the world thoughtfully gave me 2 daffodils (to reference one of our fav movies -- big fish) in a cute little pot. Made my day. Just like everyday. I was very diligent about watering them twice a day, but they started to look sad. I repotted them into more soil that I had in a bigger pot, but i think there just isn't enough light in my room. I had also had to carry them all the way across campus in the cold, and maybe they just never recovered. who knows. but they were looking dreary. I kinda gave up on watering them. I was unbelievably bummed.

But tonight, I got home, and even though I had lost hope in their life, a new blossom had sprouted between them! this was perhaps the most exciting thing that had happened to me all week, and I've had a pretty eventful week. Something about it was just moving.

What is it that moves me so? I don't know specifically. I have a lot of ideas of why it's so great, and they're all good and true, but the best is just beauty and joy inexplicable.