Dear Reader

Dear Reader,
If you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you might have recently noticed a shift in format. If you are new, welcome!
The shared reflections on daily mass readings with a hint of a Jesuit Spiritual Exercise has been rewarding for me. But like all things, it changes. Has my determination faltered? Have i become (yet again) distracted?
Yes and no.
Scripture lives in the mind as one reads or hears. The mind receives it, yet i seek to apply it more to daily life. There is enough analysis on line, for example my favourite Sacred Site of the Irish Jesuits or Godzdogz (Dominican Order). No sense rehashing which is done professionally by others!
And Buddha? Before walking back into the church i practised Buddhism for many years. The Jews being great traders, together with Roman occupiers and Greek settlers, with diaspora in Persia, all right smack on the great Silk Road, i cannot help but to think something of Buddhism would have travelled along with the riches of the East: especially in the era before Islam wiped Buddhism from the Indian, Persian and Afghanistan maps. Themes of wisdom and compassion are paramount in the Bible. Mammon? The second and third commandments? Buddha is not a false god, rather merely a human being with insight, who sought to teach anyone who would listen how to live a life without suffering. No heresy is meant, though how you judge another is your own business. Wisdom is divine. Love is divine. To be closer to the divine, man must practise, perfect and experience a life of dedication to wisdom and love, me thinks. Hence the inclusion of faith and practise. Hence the similarities between Christianity and Buddhism, West and East, that i see and write about.
As for the new format, Dr. Krishna is an old friend of mine. It seems that once again he has something to say: sit down, empty your mind of its hectic thoughts and listen with an open heart.
Have a great day,
With metta,
W.W.

A Lesser God

On his way down to the river bank, Dr. Krishna chats with a young man from the village. They wind their way down the sandy embankment, as do many others this morning. The expanse of flowing water is grand. Countless diamonds of flashing light are reflected by the rising sun. They both stop. Silent, they behold what they see everyday anew. A donkey carrying a load of laundry down to the water nudges the doctor back to life. Both men laugh as they jump ahead and continue along the path.
"What is it to have a mind of a god?" the young man asks as they stand once again, though this time with feet in the cooling water.
"Why do you ask this?" puzzles Dr. Krishna.
"I heard it said that though we may be men, we are Truly gods. I heard it said that though we may think like a god, we remain mortal men. Which is it?"
"I cannot give you an answer," admits the lanky brown man, now up to his knees, now holding his clothes above the water with one hand and slapping the clear surface with the other, "I do know that a good man must have intelligence, compassion and perseverance. Perhaps a god has the perfect balance of these three ingredients of goodness?"
The younger man nods. "I have been told: by your wisdom and your intelligence you have made riches for yourself; You have put gold and silver into your treasuries. By your great wisdom applied to your trading you have heaped up your riches; your heart has grown haughty from your riches?"
"Yes, one has used intelligence with perseverance to build the ego, to create a majestic palace for it dressed in fine materials and a cellar full of gold, possibly at the expense of others. Noteworthy by all mortal standards, indeed. However, all of it acquired without compassion", says Dr. Krishna. Small fish dart about their bare legs. The sun light grows stronger. There are more people down by the river. Smiling, he continues, "With compassion one does not take, but gives freely, effortlessly and thankfully. A rich man's wisdom is always flawed. Perhaps that is the lesser god for whom you are warned? And it is this arrogant mind that will always suffer ruin, loss and death. Without compassion, without putting others before the needs of oneself, intellect is wasted and perseverance is for nought."
The other man reflects on his words. They stand unmoving in silence as the sun climbs higher.
"It's getting too hot, we should return," offers the good doctor, who leads the other man back to the shore. The youth merely follows in silence, wondering why he had set off on the path to riches, wondering if it wasn't too late to give up the pretences of this lesser god to know joy.

The Rich Man's Burden

The buzzing flies are a nuisance, but he doesn't let them provoke him. Created creatures, too, he smiles, born to buzz, they know nought otherwise. Sitting on the log outside his shop, Dr. Krishna has a moments rest between patients. Yes, even in the world of health care, there are sometimes boring moments. Like his father always told him, cherish boring moments as gold, for these can be filled ... or emptied ... as the heart so chooses.

At this moment the good doctor watched all and nothing, simply observing the flow of life moving along the village main street. Sights and sounds, he practised letting nothing pull him or push him, neither liking nor disliking that which he saw, smell, heard or touched (that being his bottom on the crudely cut, upturned log that was his 'seat' now for so many years: though each year he received several nice chairs from thankful patients and generous friends; these he donated to the elderly people of the village who had trouble getting up off the dirt floors upon which they normally sat).

A rich man passed by with a mule loaded up with boxes and bags on the way to the next market. So much baggage, thought Dr. Krishna, why he even had two strong men in escort. The path to riches is bumpy, indeed, he noted. Fear and greed becomes your master. The more gained, the more to loose, his father once said, probably as he enjoyed a dull moment. He also said that wisdom could be perfected through ones actions in this life. A good moral life was a solid basis for growing, he said, but to be perfect, ah, then you had to go, sell what you have and give to the poor, then, freed from possession and greed, knowing no fear of loss nor fear of public opinion nor fear of the future, you put your faith in the treasure of heaven. Then not only would you know that treasure as wisdom and love, but you would live it and be a teacher to all.

Dr. Krishna smiles. The little clinic is not his own. Even the log he could do without. But letting all go? He was not a holy man, but it was tempting, namely that total commitment, that burning of all bridges and choosing for Love of God and Love of all in service of all. But before he could ruminate further, he noted several patients waiting quietly in the shade of the clinic wall next to him. Laughing, he jumps up, claps his hands and goes inside, thanking them for waiting and calling the first one to please come in.

The True Bread

Walking down the busy street, Dr. Krisha passes a large wedding party of more than a hundred guests. Many voices call out to him, "Join us, good doctor!". Dr. Krishna thinks to himself that more than half the town must be present, just as the host, now at his side, invites him to join the festivities.
"No, sir, but thank you," the shy brown man bows respectfully.
"No, please, sir, bless our newly weds with your presence," begs the father, steering the other man with gentle, open arms towards the centre of the gathering.
"We have meats and wines, our tables are dressed ready to rejoice in this wonderful day," says the mother of the bride, "Come and eat of our foods!"

Dr. Krisha relents. His salutations he gives all, even those who have been drinking wine all afternoon and now stagger and now stumble and now whose only words are foolishness. He blesses the young couple at the centre of the gathering with long lives, good health and insight enough to seek the beauty, magic and truth of love. But so many words are being spoken to the blissful two that they only nod dutifully before receiving the next guests.

The tables are indeed groaning, notes the doctor, and the wine pots overflowing. It will get noisy, he sighs. Next to him, another guest is shaking the hands of the happy in-laws as he speaks aloud: Watch carefully how you live, not as foolish persons but as wise, making the most of this blessed opportunity of life, because the days are short and the temptation to their myriad distractions are great. Therefore, do not continue in ignorance, but seek the Truth, abide there and know no more suffering.

A worthy wedding gift, smiles Dr. Krishna. Though these people will eat their fill this day, tomorrow they will be hungry again. Though these people will eat today, tomorrow they may suffer the ills of this world and some may die. As a doctor, the tall, brown man of many years this lesson well. He bends down to a young boy who is sitting at the edge of the feast, watching with wide eyes at all he sees. In his hand he holds a piece of sweet bread, but the festive din holds his attention more than the tasty food. Dr. Krishna, watching his fellow villagers for a moment too, says to the boy, to no one, to himself:
A man needs bread to make his bones grow strong, yet there is the bread of Truth, and true wine that grant eternal life free from this cycle of suffering and pleasure seeking, of aversion, of attraction and of dullness. Whoever eats of these and lives with wisdom can know Love, can let go of sin to love all and serve all in the name of that Love. Knowing this, living this, being this, there is no fear, no clinging, no foolishness and a life wasted, a chance missed. Eat this bread, drink this wine and be free.

The little boy looks up at Dr. Krishna. Surprisingly, he nods and puts down the bread in his hand. He is still nodding even as the doctor leaves the gathering, continuing his walk down the busy street.