If God is Love, then does that make John Lennon Jesus? (or, Worshiping cheese colored underwater vessels)

To say that The Beatles' Yellow Submarine deeply affected me would be a profound understatement. Walking into Blockbuster that overcast Saturday, I would have never guessed a few hours later I would not only be supremely happy, but also living with a new view of life, and whatever might be beyond life.

At that point in time, my friends and I were still in deep mourning for our good friend Jay Chitty's death, Jared and I fretted over job prospects (or lack thereof) while Spencer and Scags nervously awaited responses from med schools, and I was strongly considering quitting the golf team.

Spencer had been telling us about the glory of Yellow Submarine for months, unable (or unwanting) to quite give an idea of the plot: "You guys just have to see it." I snubbed him, thinking "I'm over the oldies stage of my life, thanks." Little did I know I was in for a revelation.

I'll give you all the same treatment Spencer gave me (trust me, go see it), but suffice it to say that the moral of the story is "All You Need Is Love."

That got me thinking--isn't it rather amazing how ubiquitous the term "love" is, and yet there isn't really a solid definition (although my personal favorite is "a neurochemical con job"). Isn't that awfully similar to God? I mean, traditionally almost everyone believes in God (of one kind or another), yet there are no certain definitions of this greater being.

Then I started to think, well, what do people really want out of this God character? A trip to heaven? Well perhaps that's it, but for how many people and what percentage of the time are they thinking in those terms? How many prayers are simply "Please God, just let me into heaven"?

Instead, people turn to God in times of need or want or hardship (note that the poorest have also traditionally been the most religious). What they seek from him is a little help (as a friend would) and unconditional love. Well, would that be much different if it were just unconditional love returned? I know that would help me through almost any hard times.

I also find in my experience that people who worship God often put their faith more into other people, too. But really, in both cases they're just seeking love. They deeply believe it exists, so they try to find it on earth as well (not to say the rest of us don't, just in different ways and to a lesser extent). They treat love as devine when they can't find it in another being.

The Bible even goes so far as to say that "Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love" (1 John 4:8). Does that not end the argument right there? Oh, perhaps they don't quite mean that literally...

Yet, they need absolutes in their lives, and if they can't find them immediately on earth, they need to believe there is an absolute beyond life. I believe the more absolutes you accept, the more obstacles you put between yourself and others. I've recently had multiple jewish friends dumped by significant others because the parents didn't want their children marrying people who were inevitably going to hell.

In my mind, there are so many different definitions of the afterlife throughout time, there is nothing certain enough to stop me from deriving pleasure from this life--which, interestingly enough, comes from love, be it friendly, marital, or material.

Now, this is not to say there isn't a God. I am not so atheistic to deny his (or her) existence, but if he or she does, I think people significantly misrepresent his or her role in their everyday lives. I'd also like to think that if this God is so great and loving, why can't he accept me for who I am? Why must I grovel to win his affection? Can't he be everyone's homie? And how could (and why would) he create a world where some people believe in him and others don't?

I think there was a lot to be said for the counterculture movement of the late 60s. Idealistically, they had it right--all you need is love. Unfortunately, they let that thought consume them and failed to do much productively (other than artistically).

After watching Yellow Submarine, my roommates and I, who were already very close, became inseparable. You would rarely catch one of us without another, and you'd rarely catch two of us without smiles on our faces. We love each other deeply, and we aren't afraid to say so and put faith in that love. Yet we still got our shit done. Jared and I are gainfully empoyed in our fields of choice, and Spencer and Scags are very happily working in research labs.

Am I so cracked out to adopt this theory? As our Finnish friend Eija posited on a trip to Estonia, "What do you all think is at the end of the universe? I think sand. Prove me wrong." Well? Have at it...

you can never go home again

as many of you know, 10 of my closest college friends (including "the deuce"--my 3 senior year roommates and i) and i spent last weekend in the charlotte/davidson area, both to see each other (my main objective) and to go to oktoberfest (aka beer orgy). reflecting back on it, very little excitement happened, there are no good (crazy) stories to tell (and yes, mom and dad, i'm old enough to tell them if there were), and yet it was the best thing that's happened to me in a very long time.
and the worst. no, i'm not talking about the extra $300 i had to spend to get there, nor the 1.5 hr airport delay because the pilot needed more sleep, nor the fact that i spent 2 nights on a floor with a couch pillow under my head; rather, i speak of the realization that it gave my bretherin and i on our return to our own cities: the realization that our time together will be relegated to these occasional weekends (at best) together, an alottment time that will likely dwindle as the years progress. that, to each of us, is painful.
i say that with a degree of certainty because by the time my afternoon bathroom break at work rolled around, i had already talked to both spencer and jared about it.
my parents, relatives, and friends who know the deuce and have seen us together have all told me that i must do everything in my power to stay in touch with these boys. i must admit, my first reaction was "duh." after the four of us spent a year sleeping within 50 feet of each other (on the rare occasion that we'd go to bed if someone else was still up and hanging out), i couldn't fathom a world without these boys. even the tragic passing of our good friend jay chitty on new years' eve couldn't force my mind to function in a world apart from my best roommates and best friends.
graduation happened (producing what i believe the longest-held smile of my lifetime--from the moment i finished my final exam to the minute i boarded a plane, nobody could burn that smile off my face with acid), then i went abroad (scags and jared went on cruisies--not horrifically different from any other vacation), then i saw jared in chicago and milwaukee for a few weeks at least once a week, and two days after i last saw him, i saw spencer for a night and a morning in birmingham. then a week or two later spencer visited me (bringing the remainder of my belongings) in dallas. so what was so different about this trip? did a solid month away from all deuce members really make the difference to us all?
no, i don't think that was it. though i suppose it probably contributed. instead, i think that when we were in davidson, we acted exactly like we did when we were in school. and it was awesome. well worth every penny of the plane ticket. but then when we recovered from our oktoberfest hangovers (which aren't that bad--when the fest ends at 7pm, you generally sleep enough to be okay), there was nobody around to play with. everyone just kinda disappeared. right when we had everything as it had always been and we were supremely happy again, it was all taken away.
as i spoke with jared and spencer earlier, we all agreed on one thing: being apart from each other sucks. sure, we're all pretty happy with our lives (they both have awesome significant others from davidson, and spencer is near many others of our friends), but there's a huge void when any one of us is missing (yes, spencer makes the same sized void as scags).
that being said, we're pretty smart dudes and will learn to adapt, i'm sure. we are already pretty outstanding (by every accord i know) at keeping in touch--there are husbands who don't talk to their wives for longer than we go without a conversation. i'd die without having jared's e-mail, spencer's google chat, and scags' aim addresses all available at work (no it doesn't distract from our productivity; we don't use it that often--it's just a lifeline). i think any of us would pick up the phone for one another at any hour in any situation. i send out cds monthly so we all live to a similar soundtrack (as we did at school), and we keep a private blog to have another mode of contact. i'll even admit that i'm glad i played fantasy football with them--i don't even care who wins or loses, i just don't want to miss any opportunity to talk (shit) with my boys.
but despite all the talk, nothing can replace being together. i hope against hope that there comes a time in our lives when we can all take a week vacation together (at least every other year). whether we be in our home states of wisconsin, west virginia, new york, and alabama, or the furthest reaches of the world, i sincerely dream that we can find a way to get together as often as humanly possible. i want to do better than all those roommates who think they're close because they post on each others' facebook walls once a month, or drunk dial each other every few weeks. i know we can, because i know we all want to.
we may never be home in davidson or ryburn002 again, but i'll be damned if i ever let anything come between us.
oh, and if you want one more example of how close we've become? i told jared this morning that i had randomly picked up a copy of jack kerouac's on the road in the airport last night and was on page 100. his response? "i'm on page 175."