Lost and Found

A few days ago, I posted some of the reasons I see Jack from “Lost” as a Jesus character.  Even though the finale was a few weeks ago, now, I continue to contemplate it and thought I’d post a few more thoughts, questions, and observations.

First: the very ending.

Here’s my take: The island marked or changed the main characters.  There destinies were entwined by their time on the island.  When they died, they became like ghosts in some stereotypical ghost story, not able to let go and move on.

Those who died went on to occupy the world that would eventually become the flash sideways world.  Everyone not originally on the island was just a figment of the imaginations of the people who occupied the flash sideways world.  It wasn’t so much an alternate universe as a shared dream between a handful of people.

The flash sideways world existed outside of the  time we experience in the real world.    Some of those who lived there died way after Jack.  Some died way before Jack.   But they all– or perhaps the island itself– recognized that Jack had to not only choose to be leader, but also prove his leadership by dying for them all.   So in terms of time as experienced for the waiting dead in the flash sideways world, the big moment was Jack actually choosing to do what he did.

When all the characters realized their other life, in the original “Lost” world, it was really nothing other than remembering.  All the goings on were simply in their respective pasts, because by definition, they had to be dead in order to get the flash-sideways “world” at all.

And when Jack proved himself the leader they all new he was supposed to be, they were ready, to move on to whatever is next.

There are of course, questions that I’m left with:

#1) What’s up with Christian’s transformation?  Does death just make you not act like a jerk anymore?  Or was the Christian that Jack met in the church just part of the shared illusion, like the entire “flash sideways” world?

#2) Who was the women who killed the mom of Jacob and the man in black?

#3) What is the relevance of the biblical story of Jacob and Essau, which focuses on adoption, stolen birth rights, and many other similiar themes?

#4) What is the nature of the Island itself?

#5) If the smoke monster is dead, why is Hurley necessary as the protector?


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The stories that speak to our soul begin at a home where things are good. Cinderella is happy with her father. The three little pigs have grown up and are ready to move on. Bilbo Baggins knows his shire. Adam and Eve walk with God in the garden. My story isn’t much different. There was a time and a place where it was so good. There was a community for me. And there was joy. We were filled with a sincere desire to do what God wanted us to do. We possessed explanations and understandings that went a certain distance. We offered security and tradition and laughter. For a lot of years, that was enough. I have this sense that it was also necessary. I have this surety, now, that it certainly wasn’t everything. There were some things that became increasingly problematic as time went by. There was a desire to package things up so very neatly. Sunday morning services were efficient and strategic. Responses to differences of opinion were premeditated. Formula began to feel more important than being real. A real desire for everybody to be one of us, but also a real sense that there is an us, and there is a them. They carried a regret that it has to be this way, but deeper than this regret was a surety that this is how it is. I began to recognize that there was a cost of admission to that group. There were people who sat at the door, collecting it. Those people wished they didn’t have to. But I guess they felt like they did have to. They let some people in, and they left others out. There was a provisional membership. My friends did possess a desire to accommodate people that are different… But it would be best for everyone concerned if they were only a little bit different. I did make many steps forward in this place. Before I went there, there were lies that I believed. Some of the things that I learned there, I still hold on to. But that place is not my home anymore. Those people are not my community anymore. There were times it was hard. I am engaged in a different community now. And I am working hard at finding a place in many different places now, embracing many different kind of families. I don’t always get it right. I am trying and I am learning and I am moving foreward. I have this sense that I am not alone in these experiences. I believe that we are tribe and we are growing. We are pilgrims, looking for a new holy land. Perhaps we won’t settle on the same spot of land. But if you’ve read this far, I am thinking that we are probably headed in the same general direction. I have begun this blog to talk about where my journey is taking me. In every space, we find people who help us along. And maybe we can get to know each other, here. We embrace ideas that provide a structure for the things we believe, and perhaps we can share these too. Maybe we can form a group, a tribe, a community, if we can figure out a way to work through the shadow of these kinds of groups, if we can bigger than the us-and-them ideas that have caused so much trouble in the past. As important as they are, I think the very nature of online interactions will lend itself to something equally powerful. I am stumbling onto these practices that my grandfathers and great grandfathers in the faith engaged in. I am learning about these attitudes and intuitions are so different than the kinds of things we call doctrine today. I don’t know about you, but I am running out of patience, and even interest, in conversations about doctrine. I hope that maybe you’ll share a little something about where your journey is taking you, and maybe our common joys and challenges might help each other along, and we might lift each other up. Thanks for doing this journey with me.

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