Contemplating the Fire

"To the Israelites the glory of the Lord looked like a consuming fire on top of the mountain. Moses entered the cloud and went up on the mountain." - Exodus 24:17

I grew up in a oil refinery town. To the north of our home, the constant glow of refinery lights and flares illuminated the cloud-like plumes pouring out from smoke stacks. When I am back in that area with my kids, I try to convince them that these smoke stacks are "cloud factories". If a person didn't know better, it would be hard to distinguish the smoke from the clouds as they merge into a canopy above.

In ancient near-eastern cosmologies, including that of the Israelites, the clouds were thoughts of as a sort of veil or portal into the heavenly realm. Fire and smoke, in the ancient imagination, had the ability to transform and transport a burning object through the clouds and into the heavenly realm. These closely connected metaphors show up repeatedly in holy places like Mount Sinai and Israel's temple — places that represent a return to Eden where humanity and divinity are reunited as one. As we will explore below, passing through the smoke and flames is like passing through a refiner's fire that purifies and prepares humanity to meet the divine. The flames aren't exactly inviting, or even painless, but those who take a step of faith through the flames discover limitless grace on the other side of the fire.

Just as the sea served as a portal into the realm of death and chaos, fire represented a portal into the divine realm. This is first seen when Adam and Eve are exiled from the garden in Eden. Cherubim with flaming swords guard the path back to Eden. From here on, the return from exile will require passing through these flames. Abraham has a vision of a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch that represent God's presence during a dramatic covenant ceremony intended to reunite humanity and divinity. Moses sees a blazing tree (recalling the tree of life) and hears a divine voice through the flames of the burning bush that promises liberation from exile. After the exodus from Egyptian slavery, the Israelites are guided by a pillar of smoke and fire to the edge of Mt. Sinai. The smoke and fire settle upon the mountain and Moses passes through in order to receive the commandment tablets in God's presence. The face of Moses shines as an indication of his transformation. And finally, after the tabernacle is constructed, the smoke and fire settle into the tabernacle. The priest passes through smoke and fire (and images of cherubim) towards the holy of holies representing humanity and their reunion with God in Eden.

All throughout the Bible, the flames represent God's purifying presence. God's presence is a refining fire that burns away humanity's falsehood and ego. In biblical terms, this is often referred to as judgment, a judgment that reveals our true identity. What the fire of judgment leaves unscathed is the divine image that God has imprinted in every human like a diamond in the rough. So why then has fire been used by the church as a symbol of eternal punishment? Why have we created a terrifying picture of hell where people burn for eternity without relief? Perhaps we have forgotten the purpose of the fire. Perhaps we have failed to see the divine image in every person that cannot be destroyed or consumed by the flames. Indeed, the holy fire that burns away our false identity then shines within us to illuminate our true identity. What we thought might destroy us has instead transformed us.

To be clear, the fire isn't a painless experience. If we take an honest look at the world, pain and suffering are everywhere. Animals fight and kill without mercy. Invisible microbes spread relentlessly causing illness and death. Humans perpetuate endless cycles of violence and war. Our own bodies sometimes seem to self-destruct. Either God is absent and unable to prevent pain, or perhaps there is some purpose for it. This fire isn't something we seek out, but at some point we are left with no choice but to walk through it. Some of us are still in the flames and unable to see beyond them, but there are some who have walked through the flames and have experienced a more pure quality of life on the other side. Perhaps they see the value of life more clearly now. Maybe they now have a better idea of what they are made of. One way or another, they are forever changed.

"I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear the threshing floor and will gather his wheat in the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire." - John the Baptizer (Matt 3:11-12)

To borrow the metaphor above, it is hard for us to let go and surrender the chaff. The chaff is the inedible husk that protects the grain of wheat, but it eventually has to die and fall away to reveal the wheat. Likewise, our ego protected us and gave us a unique identity for decades. For most of us, we cling tightly to that identity. Sometimes we only know ourselves as the chaff. It usually takes something drastic to peel away that outward identity. Sometimes the loss of someone we love, or maybe the loss of our hopes and dreams upon which our identity was constructed. Perhaps a religious or mystical experience shook the framework of what you thought was true about your own existence. Or maybe the religious tradition you grew up in only served to reinforce your ego, and something else had to shake the foundations of that identity.

The circumstances and timing are different for everyone, but eventually we are all faced with the task of walking through these life-changing flames. Depending on how tightly we have clung to the chaff of our false identity, we may hardly recognize what remains. But hopefully we have already seen a glimpse of the wheat hidden within the chaff, the divine light within us all, the "I AM" that calls out to us to participate and find communion in the divine nature.

What makes the biblical imagery of fire difficult, and often misunderstood, is that fire is inherently dangerous. The biblical imagery of fire is often associated with suffering and even death, so in our vain attempt to avoid suffering we assume that the fire is just for "those" people. Tragically, Christians have assumed that this fire is for the torture and/or annihilation of other divine image-bearing humans.

To correct this misunderstanding, Christians would need to be familiar the role of ritual fire and burnt offerings in the temple of the Old Testament, which is often ignored in churches as irrelevant. But the New Testament book of Hebrews draws on these rituals to show that even Jesus experienced the "fire" through his suffering, and all who follow him will do the same. The purpose of fire is not torture, but transformation. Like ancient alchemy, the fire purifies and transforms us.. The fire reveals our true humanity which can stand in the space where heaven and earth are one. Like the offerings of atonement in the ancient temple, our bodies become a living sacrifice which is reconciled and made at-one with the divine.

One day we may look back and see that we are stronger and wiser because of our past experiences, even those experiences that felt like walking through fire. Perhaps then our fear of those flames will be replaced with gratitude and peace, now reunited with all who have made the same journey. Grace and peace to you as you continue your walk forward. Even in the midst of the fire, you are neither alone nor forsaken.

"For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if it has lost is flavor, how can you restore its flavor? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another." - Jesus (Matthew 9:49-50)