The Addict: Dedicated to Ambrosia, wherever we may find it.

I am addicted to an idea.

I recently read an article in the journal  First Things, titled American Carnage – The New Landscape of Opioid Addiction by Christopher Caldwell.  The United States has a horrific problem with Opioids. Over fifty-thousand American souls quit breathing every year because the lethal dosage of an opioid suppresses their breathing to the point – they go to sleep forever. In 2009 drug overdose surpassed motor vehicle accidents as a cause of death. If trends continue, by 2019 annually twice as many will die from opioid overdose as from auto accidents.  A terrible carnage without trauma.  No gore, no violence, no rending of the body, just sleep.

I reproduce here a couple concluding paragraphs of Caldwell’s article:

In 1993, Francis F. Seeburger, a professor of philosophy at the University of Denver, wrote a profound book on the thought processes of addicts called Addiction and Responsibility. We tend to focus on the damage addiction does. A cliché among empathetic therapists, eager to describe addiction as a standard-issue disease, is that “no one ever decides to become an addict.” But that is not exactly true, Seeburger shows. “Something like an addiction to addiction plays a role in all addiction,” he writes. “Addiction itself . . . is tempting; it has many attractive features.” In an empty world, people have a need to need. Addiction supplies it. “Addiction involves the addict. It does not present itself as some externally imposed condition. Instead, it comes toward the addict as the addict’s very self.” Addiction plays on our strengths, not just our failings. It simplifies things. It relieves us of certain responsibilities. It gives life a meaning. It is a “perversely clever copy of that transcendent peace of God.”

The founders of Alcoholics Anonymous thought there was something satanic about addiction. The mightiest sentence in the book of Alcoholics Anonymous is this: “Remember that we deal with alcohol—cunning, baffling, powerful!” The addict is, in his own, life-damaged way, rational. He’s too rational. He is a dedicated person—an oblate of sorts, as Seeburger puts it. He has commitments in another, nether world.

Yesterday, Larry Boshell wrote in a post, “Jesus believed a lot of erroneous stuff…”  I replied,  “But I don’t believe that about Jesus. The part about Him believing a bunch of erroneous stuff…”

If I do, the entire edifice of faith disintegrates.  I don’t go there. I must not go there. I am addicted to an idea about Jesus of Nazareth.  Larry, about now, says – “I told you so” or something like that. Because Larry has always argued that all the people are erecting decrepit edifices of faith and belief that are unhinged from reality and fact: Himself included – Larry is just self-aware.  This self-awareness lets Larry dwell in carefree fields of Ambrosia, where one assumes, he feasts with the gods.  Larry has never been real specific on what he does in Ambrosia-land.  But he doesn’t want to lose his pass, his membership card. He has found rest for his soul there.  I do observe Larry clings to his shibboleths as tenaciously as I do mine.

Here is the cornerstone idea that I am addicted to:  That the man, Jesus of Nazareth, believed he was the Messiah foretold in Jewish Scripture.   To Jesus, it was all about Him.  The scriptures, Abraham, Israel, Moses, King David, the whole world and all  its history were mere preludes to his coming.  His success was totally hinged on his faith never failing, on Him never doubting Himself.  His cry, “Eli Eli Lama Sabachthani”  is prophetic verse spoken in messianic drama.  It is not doubt.  An honest reading of the scriptures, of Jesus’ sayings and teachings leads to only two possible conclusions. He was either the only begotten Son of God, the Jewish Messiah & the True King of Israel, or he was a deluded megalomaniac.

My belief in Him is bound up with Jesus of Nazareth’s belief in Himself.  I am undone if Jesus believed a lot of erroneous stuff. I am totally committed to His idea about His perfect self.

The sordid tales of addicts serving their addiction will make your ears burn.  Think of those works as offerings on the altar of their god.  The pathos of their ruin, the betrayal of all affections, the will to embrace even death in their quest, their purpose.  I think I understand.

But my tale is not sordid.  Addiction to the Jesus idea leads to goodness and life. He taught us the service we do to the ‘least of these my brethren’ is the service he desires.  I am supposed to disrobe.  To bend down and wash the feet.  He has set us an example of service. I am to forgive, even as He forgave.  I am to embrace pain and suffering.  Like Him I will forego the mingled gall.  There will be no escape from death, I will embrace that too.  But I will cling in faith to my belief that Jesus Christ rose from the dead.

Larry, what idea am I supposed to trade up to?  I can’t figure out this world; I can’t ‘define the universe’ as Justice Kennedy suggests I must.  I can see the limits of science: science is such a narrow way of looking at things – and only the things before us. Is truth limited to what we can experiment on and experience?  Is Nietzsche right?

The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

I’m addicted to the idea that I belong to God.  I am afraid to believe otherwise. I am afraid that I might will it to be so and I would be alone and undone.

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2 thoughts on “The Addict: Dedicated to Ambrosia, wherever we may find it.

  1. Bill, belief doesn’t create, or even verify truth. It at best produces creates comfort, lodging in the fields of Ambrosia. That metaphor, Fields of Ambrosia is used in the movie “The Traveling Executioner,” where the privateer executioner uses it to paint a verbal, sensual picture to calm the to-be-executed before their state ordered execution. It’s an imaginary place of great peace and comfort. Most people live in their version of it since that is what they want. You do, by my estimation.

    Life is the executioner of both us, eventually. Christian threats and promises embodied in Jesus are delayed until death. Nothing before. No evidence for anything after. Just hope, one can dream Ambrosia dreams. In the meantime the sweet savor of imagined Ambrosia wafting in the brains is all there really is. For most people that is fine, for a few not. Some are unsettled, even terrified by intellectual challenges to faith. I once was.

    What are you to trade up to, Bill? You can trade up to the truth that people have always been as they are, we aren’t “lost.” There was never perfection, there isn’t going to be any ever. Heaven is a version of the Fields of Ambrosia. We perch on a planet created like trillions of others that will be recycled by their flaming out suns, a version of fires of hell. It may be destroyed without notice at any moment, us with it by immediate eventualities like asteroids.

    Or hang tight to your belief. Your comfort appears to be there.

    Pessimism? No. Reality. Read again the details of history and the carnage visited upon mankind. You will see we live in as much as heaven now as can be gotten. Nothing changed after Christ. Death. Destruction. Suffering. Except for us, our now period of peace. How long will it last?

    I accept the realities of life. I have no clue how I might handle the intolerable possibilities in store. So I live life joyfully, without fear and in the Fields of Ambrosia of the love of my family and friends. Everything is temporary. Life is, live it fully! Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.

  2. Larry,

    We are agreed. Belief doesn’t verify Truth. A Man might easily believe a lie. The last person on earth I would want to trust to intuitively know what is true is me. Its not in me.

    As I said: My tale is not sordid. It might have been. I’ll tell you what is in me; a covetous soul. I want. That is a reality of life. What happiness comes to those who can hear the Lawgiver say, “Thou shalt not…” Addictions come in many flavors. Most are nothing but bitter dregs.

    Yes the universe is a mess, what with death, asteroids & supernovas. As the good book says, “Time and chance happeneth to us all.” We aren’t able to figure it all out, I agree. But there is an evil and bent inclination in man, in me. I have to struggle against it. If I covet my neighbor’s wife, why not seduce her? Why shouldn’t I have what I want? How can a man make sense of right and wrong without a law and a lawgiver? If there is a law, then there is surely sin.

    I understand Ambrosia is god food. The food that gods eat. Perhaps that was the covetousness of Eve. The Christian would eat something better than Ambrosia. They would imagine they are eating God Himself. They imagine they are eating the Passover. Everything has got a temporariness about it, I know. But Jesus dared to say: “Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall never pass away.” Maybe my hope in His eternal certainties are not in vain.

    I have walked in His path. It is a good path. I will not be trading up. I think your fields of Ambrosia are too high up for me.

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