Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the same mind: for he that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin; That he no longer should live the rest of his time in the flesh to the lusts of men, but to the will of God. For the time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought the will of the Gentiles, when we walked in lasciviousness, lusts, excess of wine, revellings, banquetings, and abominable idolatries:
(1Pe 4:1-3)
Please bear with me, because I'll probably speak much about The Ninth Cloud in the next few posts. It's been over two years since the events in that book, and ever since I've published the book, I've had second thoughts about my attitude towards the Culture Festival (called Planet Comicon).
Here is an excerpt from Chapter 1 of the book. Let's examine it (as I Thessalonians 5:21 recommends):
28 In due course, the stark refusal to attend the Culture Festival became a relic of yore. I was wholly committed.
29 Not solely as a guardian of watchfulness, but for a cause anew: the jubilation of mine emancipation from debt.
30 It dawned upon me that this venture might well serve as the ideal occasion for what some of the devout term a “Rumspringa”.
31 For me, it presented a chance to revel and exult in mine newfound liberty.
32 No longer was I to restrain my mirth. For there is a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.
v. 31 of the chapter uses the word "revel", as translated by the AI. As I'm writing this, this concerns me.
What sort of revelry was I talking about?
Chapter 2, verses 18-19 gives a clue:
18 Throughout the entirety of our voyage, my spirit was alight with mirth.
19 The recollection of my triumph remained vivid within my thoughts. Verily, this was to be a time of great rejoicing!
It was all in my head. All I could think about was being debt-free. So far, nothing outward. In v. 38, I mentioned giving the "V" sign imitating Winston Churchill, that is, a "V" for "Victory". No revelry there.
Then there is this passage from the same chapter:
64 Advancing, I cast mine eyes upward and beheld the disciples aloft, gazing down upon us.
65 These were they who had procured special admittance to partake of certain revelries betimes.
66 A vision then struck me: as champions of sport are oft celebrated with a procession in their native land, so did I perceive the scene.
67 Though I knew full well no disciple heralded me, the semblance was such that my mind’s humours discerned no difference.
68 I surrendered to the sensation. Was it conceit? Was it boastfulness?
69 I cannot say, but the yearning to feel it was overpowering.
70 Have I not merited some measure of festivity, though but a semblance, for my endeavors?
The "disciples" were the fans who were cosplaying. The "vision" was one of many imaginations in my head. You couldn't tell outwardly, but inwardly, I was so drunk with joy, again, simply by the very fact that I was debt-free. This very fact alone, alone with what the scene "looked like", turned into mental novacaine.
Come to think of it, the only outward sign of my ecstasy didn't come until Chapter 4, when I met Medis Stella, and the tears didn't come because of seeing her, but because of the acknowledgement and validation of paying off my debts. The fact that Ms. Stella was a celebrity further cemented another of my mental "images", as if she was Meredith Viera on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. I extracted from that moment the feeling of complete victory, as if I answered the $1 million question, and the lights went crazy, and the music went crazy, and confetti fell from the ceiling, all to indicate, as our current President would say, that this was a "big f***in deal".
That was it. I believed in my heart that becoming debt-free was a huge deal, and the outward appearances matched what I was feeling. That was the very source of my high emotion. Not the fact that I interacted with no fewer than three celebrities, but that the acknowledgement of being debt-free matched how I truly felt. They understood. They got it. One person once commented to me that it was because actors live on "feast or famine", so of course they would understand my jubilance.
Yet, was my attitude sinful revelry, according to the Scriptures? What is revelry?
The Greek word in question in I Peter 4:1-13 is "komos", meaning "a carousal (as if letting loose): revelling, rioting." Looking up the definition of "carousal", it suggests that it is more akin to going outwardly wild, often with alcohol involved. All I did was just play with my brain chemicals. I certainly didn't riot, I know what that looks like.
I guess what really happened on that day is that I was allowed to confess my joy, I was allowed to not hide it anymore. Medis Stella offered more of a soapbox.
And as for celebration, under the appropriate circumstances, it is no sin:
Ecc 3:1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
Ecc 3:4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
One biblical example follows:
But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry. Now his elder son was in the field: and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard musick and dancing.
(Luk 15:22-25)
And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends: But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf. And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.
(Luk 15:29-32)
Now, could have there been a more appropriate place to let it out? Perhaps. Yet I'm glad God set this up (as he sets up everything says Colossians 1:17, among other places), because at least I could rejoice in a way I felt it worth rejoicing.
So I guess it was rejoicing, not revelry. If there was any revelry, or any sense of idolatry and worldliness, I do repent.