First Posted 09-Sep-2014
I first wrote this in October of 2009. It is quoted below from my Note on Facebook.
I’m a Christian. To say that I love evil is blasphemy, no? I’m supposed to say I love Jesus with all my heart, soul and being to the end of my days. I’m supposed to say I’m on fire for Jesus. What’s this crap about loving evil?
I’ve lived my share of blues. By my count, I’ve been round the wheel of success & failure four times. I never got the good union job my Dad wanted me to get, the wife & rugrats that often come along as well, the mortgage, the car payment(s), the rat race to consume the latest, most fashionable, coolest crap in the stores, the election as an elder in my church, blah, blah, blah. I’ve been the reason my Dad has to apologize at family parties because I’m in one other tough spot, maybe homeless again, perhaps far too close to jail for family comfort, usually broke, and on again about how I’m going to write this book, be on Oprah and never have a care in my life again.
I’m also a Christian and I do love Jesus. Satan, though, if you’ve ever eaten in his pub, serves a pretty good fish & chips and his beer isn’t half bad. I kinda like the guy. And I’m not sure that feeling sorry for myself because I don’t drive a 7 series beemer, have a blonde babe for a wife after divorcing my high school sweetheart, etc, is a good thing. My blues have become my life’s story and while it isn’t the story my Dad wanted to tell, it’s been pretty cool.
So, why do I love evil? No, not because I’m Christian and Jesus tells us to love our enemies. That bit of eschatology is too trite, too easy. I love Satan because he’s what keeps me honest. If I have a flaw, a temptation, a place where my faith is weak, he’ll exploit it and in so doing, show it to me. Evil, negativity exposes the sin I have to repent. He helps me come closer to Jesus by showing me where I am not yet fully confessed before Christ. I may have the author of the quote wrong, I remember these words as belonging to Joyce Hugget, “Conflict exposes specific sin.” Satan helps me grow closer to Christ by exposing and exploiting sin. He becomes an angel who helps me see myself honestly.
Of course, you can take this in a way that means being totally wasted, naked, totally debauched, is a good thing. Nope. You don’t get a pass for defying the law because I write here that evil is some sort of path to nirvana. You still have to behave. It still matters that you agreed to be a disciple of Christ. That agreement, that promise, still means something and limits your behavior. Besides, for every rising knocker there is a morning after, when consequences have a reliably frustrating way of invading your life.
I do suffer for the choices I’ve made in life. Perhaps more than I signed up for. Oh well. I’d still live it the same way again given the chance. I got to see Bobby McFerrin live in San Francisco. I’ve been to a Dead show when Gerry was alive. I’ve had tea on a mountaintop in Taiwan. I’ve got a teenage son who is (IMHO) the world’s greatest kid. There is more. I hope you get the idea. I also am so happy to be who I am and writing this on my friend’s laptop in a motel room in Richmond’s West End while watching cable tv. I’ve come to that place were for the most part all Satan can do is help me be a stronger Christian.
I hear that as well, that these words come across as pompous, arrogant poo, stinking, fresh, huge, elephant dung with a side of cul puant. I’m not some superhuman, invincible saint. I screw up, sometimes daily, and have to yet again bring to God in confession something I have to apologize for. It’s ok, because I still believe that I am a confessed, saved disciple of Christ and that in the end failure and strife are what forge me into a stronger man.