God is Dead

Today we mourn.

God is dead.

To be a follower of Christ, walking his way together with the apostles, what could have filled my thoughts? The Son of Man executed and now dead, the King, the Messiah, killed as an impostor by ones own brothers. It might very well have seemed to be the end of the world. How could i continue to live knowing Love had died?

There would still be the poor, the sick, the hungry, the homeless, all these people still suffered. Everything Christ had told us would still be relevant and appropriate to my life now. In confusion, there would still be prayer and doing God's good works. I might too, ask myself, why was Jesus so eager to let himself be judged and executed, for he could have escaped, could have sought shelter in another land? Yet i know the answer already for he told me not to put a light under my bed or behind closed doors, rather to put it in the window for all to see. Could i have prevented this crime, i might ask myself bitterly if i thought i actually had the power and courage to have done something?

In psychology there are stages of grief: shock, denial, anger, depression and acceptance. Today we mourn God's death, the death of a promise.

At least, a death in our minds, because as we all know now, the story continues.

Deo gratias.

Angry at God

Someone asked me a question today, 'If i get angry at God, do you think he'll get angry at me?'

I don't know why this remains in my thoughts, crowding out the images of last night's Maundy Thursday ceremony and veneration around the Altar of Repose or the emotions stirred at the dimming of the church lights and the stripping the altar in preparation of mourning or the priests renewal of their faith and the washing of feet.

Ceremony and veneration and a fuller than normal church overshadowed by one man's earnest question, Will he get angry at me?

He has enough to be angry at God, me thinks. A serious anxiety disorder has literally crippled him, leaving him at home alone, without many friends, no work, unfinished school, financial dependant, no partner, no children. A young man struggling with 'why?' who confesses that he is angry at God for making him suffer.

I don't know why we suffer, but we do. Are we like Job, actively punished by God to prove some divine point? Me thinks not, and if we were, there would be no point dwelling on it. To recognise suffering, is to give it a name. And by giving it a name, it is treatable. Buddha found his method in the Four Noble Truths. Today Jesus will show us his answer through personal example and invite us to follow. We were angry that the King of the Jews was not who we expected he should be. We killed him. Would not God be furious at us for killing his Son?! God leaves the Temple, but i would have expected another Great Flood at least!

Jesus asks his Father to forgive us.

We know not what we do, for indeed, despite all the miracles we still can't get beyond the physical reality of this earthly life of food and drink, pleasures and pains, fears and comforts. How can we be punished for anything done in our profound ignorance? Isn't this ignorance and endless cycle of anxiety punishment enough?

God is Love.

Every year, again and again and again, we shall be reminded of this, as if God truly wants us to understand what life can be like in His reality. No, He is not angry. He offers grace and mercy and patience. If only we could allow ourselves to be comforted.

Deo gratias.

Love is a Verb

I came across this statement "love is a verb" today (can't remember where). Like Jesus washing the feet of his disciples, an act that only slaves would perform, each man who pretends to know what love is, is shown what love truly is, not with grand words or convincing arguments, rather by reaching out, by being present. In this material existence, where the senses seem to control our definition in reality (sight, sound, touch, etc.), Christ demonstrates how one physically can be an agent of love, namely putting others before ones own Self (the Selfless servant). Love is about motivation, not expectation. The King, Son of Man, rolls up his sleeves, gets down on his knees and washes the dirt from his guests feet. See? That's how it's done.

How often have i put my own Self-image first, that i not be embarrassed, or that i may come over to others as strong, fearless, rich, intelligent or religious? How often have i failed in God's commandment to love him and my neighbours? (Note: by loving God, i am learning and trusting how to let go of my own petty fears and ego and to go outside my box. I am loosing my Self that i might find my true being. Command? A Father commands this from the goodness of His heart). And each time i fall, he is there to help me up ... even to wash the dust from my feet.

My heart goes out to St. Francis, who in copying Christ, chose physical action as his expression of love to God and mankind. A sinner, a man like me, he finally allowed love to lead his actions. He became a force of love in this material world. "Francis, repair my church", he heard. 'Repair' is also a verb.

Deo gratias.

Forgiving Judas

Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot. The Christian world's greatest scapegoat. Today we learn that Jesus pointed him out to Peter while they sat at the pascal table, enjoying each others company for the last time.

Some questions pop into my mind, as they probably have many a Christian all these centuries.

The Christ points out Judas to Peter, therefore he knew what his discipline was plotting even then. Why did Jesus then choose Judas at all? If the apple was good and turned bad, Jesus and the others would have known? They would have dismissed him? Surely the Christ would have known this before he chose him to join as a discipline? He knew their character, knew their potential, even before events unfolded, just like he points out to Peter that though he confesses to want to follow Him where ever He go, Peter will deny knowing Jesus three times. Jesus knew, yet he chose Judas to be among the twelve.

Just as they chose, with Jesus' approval one can guess, that Judas would be the one to carry the group's money bag. He was given the dirty work? Someone had to carry the money, that necessary evil, the currency stamped with Caesar's image: give unto Caesar what is Caesar's, says Christ. Judas carries it. Why? Because he was unclean and easily tempted? Formally, a Buddhist monk may not carry money. No money, no temptation, is the motivation. Did Christ see this character trait and use it in planning the events which were about to unfold, or did he merely see what would happen (divine predestination)?

Jesus sends Judas from the table with the command: What you are going to do, do quickly (Jn 13:27).
If events were to unfold as if predestined, then why the command to leave? Would not Judas leave when he was 'required' to do so? And Peter, knowing who it was who would betray the Lord, the Son of God, would he have not tried to stop Judas from his task? He knows who the traitor is! Instead, he stays at the table, eating, drinking, in the presence of Jesus.

Choosing the disciples was not random, me thinks. Christ saw something good in Judas, but saw too that the man was flawed and would become a traitor. Still, Jesus let him remain with the group, perhaps because Judas had a role in the drama that must unfold. Was Judas the necessary evil? Like the fellow Jews that condemned the Christ to death and the Roman governor Pilate who dids nothing to prevent the injustice of the mob to protect his own political interests, i feel as though we can forgive Judas (but not the crime).

Still, i wonder. Did Judas know that he was handing over his God to the men that wanted a death sentence? Was he blinded by his own greed? Did doubt in the divinity of his Teacher make it easier? Or, did he willingly accept his role as a disciple of Christ, a necessary evil? God only knows.

Deo gratias.

On Poverty

You always have the poor with you, Jesus says (Jn 12-8), not as a cynical remark but rather as a statement of fact. Poor of spirit, those occupied with the material world, scrambling, gathering, intoxicating, entertaining themselves from sunrise to sunset. Like the people of Plato's Cave Allegory, a public huddled together in a cave (or 'dungeon' from today's reading of Isaiah 42:7) watching life's lights flicker on the cave wall very much like a movie. They are watching, probably whining, grumbling, laughing, along with the film, all oblivious that what they are watching is not real. It is a poor reality, an empty reality, that satisfies them. Buddhism names it the conventional truth, for indeed, the public is 'happy' living their lives in a dark cave before the dancing lights of their reality. Poor in spirit, they do not turn around when called, they do not recognise their situation, nor do they seek their own way out of the cave, up into what Plato describes as a bright, blinding light, the ultimate truth.

We shall always have the poor among us, governments seem to accept. When the western world declares by means of statistical, economic and political policies that anyone without a mobile phone, flat screen tv or car is 'below the poverty line', they create division between people. The Have's and the Have Not's, we are separated and those under the line get stamped as 'poor'. It is a game that creates need and want, greed and isolation. And those who need will sometimes beg, borrow or steal what they lack. As long as we define our lives materialistically, in the cave, in a conventional reality, yes, there will always be poor among us.

Me thinks that is why Christ came to us poor in that conventional reality, poor materialistically. How could God, Creator, King of All walk about barefooted or ride on the back of an ass? The Buddha begged for his food every morning, mediated, lived in extreme poverty by the standards of the day, but lived nobly, rich in spirit. Jesus defines the ultimate reality of God and shows little interest for our materialistic life, a life tied to the flesh and dirt of this world: He recognised our suffering and healed it as best He could, whether feeding thousands, healing wounds or raising a lost loved one from the dead. The rules of this world do not apply to him, indeed, we call all that cannot be explained by the rules of our conventional reality miracles.

Who shall i make my King? Materialism or Poverty? Riches or Simplicity? The Herd or the Way of the Christ? Do we rise to the occasion or do we slide back into our ruts like Judas? Our ideas of existence are being challenged. This week we are all invited to choose our King.