December 24th, 2
Christmas Eve, the last day of the days before...
Today is Christmas Eve. The moment of "just before...". Like the split-second before the sun shows above the horizon it is, "Not yet, but almost". It is pregnant with possibility, for the quill has yet to touch the parchment. If history be a guide then, much of what will be written of this day will be much of what was written of the yesterday's that have come and gone. And that is a sad thing, for we live in a time where to build walls, opaque and dark, to crawl into the barren void deep within the wall, then to pull the door and lock it, is to be the actions of a wise and prudent man. Though we may not see it or feel it, we live in a time of unimaginable wealth, even for the poor this is true. And what does wealth bring with it? Fear. Common sense plainly tells us, what can be amassed can be scattered. What can be vaulted and locked away, can be stolen.
The worst prisons we build for ourselves are built of fear. We fear our enemies whose intentions were never veiled, we fear those around us for we all know what dark powers reside in a jealous heart. We distance ourselves from our kith and kin for no inheritance is split to the liking of all.
Never believe differently; Fear is never about Truth. It withers Beauty as the noon sun to a tender seedling, and when Fear encircles the heart it makes us blind, we cannot see the world in any other light but in the darkness of Fear. And Fear at this level always brings poverty. Poverty of the imagination. Poverty of the imagination so ingrained that one cannot conceive of a world not guided by fear.
But
But today is the eve of Christmas, a day that, like all that concerns the Divine in this age of ascetic cynicism, is corrupted and commercialized, demeaned and damned. Christmas eve is the rising curtain revealing the Divine returning to his lost and incarcerated creation. He emerges into our world from between the bloodied thighs of a skinny peasant girl. That is not the last blood to flow as the Murder of the Innocent laid bare the intentions of the powers and principalities of the darkness. For three decades he lived among us as one of us. And then one day, one day he spoke as a man speaks but says what a shepherd says to his scattered sheep, "..fear not".
He turned his back to no one but many turned their back on him. He healed the lame, the halt, dirty and the clean and he did this on the Sabbath. The wise and the wealthy saw him as riddler, a shyster, worse yet as a Disturber of the Peace. He's a fake and a phony, just look-he dines with sinners, associates with prostitutes, was seen conversing with a Samaritan woman by a well in broad daylight for crying out loud. The women and the unclean hang on every word he speaks, while the wealthy and learned hear only hard sayings wrapped in paradox.
He says; We find our selves by losing ourselves.
He says; We gain only what we give up, and if we give up everything we gain every thing.
He says; We cannot find ourselves within ourselves, but only in others, yet at the same time before we can go out to others we must first find ourselves.
He says; We must forget ourselves in order to become truly conscious of who we are.
He says; The best way to love ourselves is to love others, yet we cannot love others unless we love ourselves since it is written, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."
He said; "If any man come to me and hate not his father and his mother, he cannot be my disciple"
He says; for this "finding" of the Divine, we cannot even look for Him unless we have already found Him, and we can not find Him unless he has first found us.
The poor at the gate, the women spinning flax in the shade seem to feign understanding but within our temple walls all we hear him speak is blasphemy.
Blasphemy brings death that is certain, but let's be clever about this for he is popular with the masses. Let us arrange for the Romans to do the dirty work for they care not a whit about us, but will not tolerate an Insurrectionist.
But wait! I get ahead of myself! One should not read the last chapter before the first! Be content to spend the day as Christmas Eve, the last of the Day of the Days Before.
Luvyaall,
bobb
Comments
Post a Comment