Take Heart!

10 days since I was able to post last. Sorry about the delay-- The beginning of this semester has been quite a bit more hectic than I had planned for.

That, and I seem to have developed romantic feelings for someone. Hoboy.

This Sunday I woke up early so I would be able to do a bit of pre-semester preparing. I was all set with a banana for breakfast as I met my parents downstairs telling me we were going to see my little sister's choir group, the Croixaliers (of which I was a member for two years).

It was a bit of an unpleasant surprise. It wasn't that I didn't like seeing the Croixaliers perform-- I just didn't want to be drowned in the nostalgia of people that weren't even in the choir at the same time as me.

However, during the service, I began to look mindfully into my past and I had realized something I never really did before.

That choir just about saved my life.

Now, that's a bit of an exaggeration... You, as diligent readers, must have noticed that I have a flair for the dramatic. However, I should elaborate.

My years at my high school were filled with instances of favoritism and flukes, with only a few of such instances working in my favor. It was unpleasant always getting shafted. Naturally, I was surprised when I made into the choir the first year-- Especially when my equally gifted older sister wasn't so lucky.

I enjoyed it, but I never knew why. I would look forward to it, but it would be full of me trying to be socially acceptable and just keep my big mouth shut. I was only sometimes successful.

I didn't care very often what the others thought about me.

I was a smartass, and a lot of my peers in high school had legitimate reasons not to like me. I was making the wrong decision at every turn and it was harming my self image and letting my conscience decay. I was pursuing short-term satisfaction at the cost of my friends, my family and multiple unlucky girls who were unfortunate enough to get tangled in my life at the wrong time. Long story short, I was treating everyone like shit and wasn't noticing the damage it was doing to my soul until it was too late. Eventually I dropped the "HATER'S GONNA HATE" mentality. I slipped into a lethargic depression, and converted for a short amount of time to a very depressing atheism.

When I walked through the doors to the music room, at first it felt like all of the others in my group were judging me. I walked away from every practice with my instincts telling me that no one else thought I was supposed to be a part of that group. Three, four, sometimes even five times a week I would sing with these people and feel ostracized, like the only fork in the entire silverware drawer that has a crooked tine. That didn't last forever, though.

I knew that even though I had royally fucked my past, I had the potential to keep going and rewrite what I was living for. I knew it all along, but realized it late in the game. I began to study past traditional Christianity and look more mindfully into the Bible while the pastor was preaching during the services that the Croixaliers sang at. Soon enough, I had found a back door into Christianity, and realized a few of the more key truths about it. I realized the religion as a whole is not a bad concept. Mohandas Ghandi said it perfectly:

"I like your Christ, but I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."

Reading into the Goodness (rather than the Lawfulness) of the Bible through new lenses, it felt like I could put on a mask and become something different... something better. I felt like I could actually do something right in putting my talents toward something good-- even if it wasn't something my beliefs coincided with 100%. People began to notice a very subtle change in my behavior. I realized this, and finally had something to live up to. It dawned on me that I did have the capacity to do some good and I could be something better than what I was. Jesus said in the book of John, chapter 16 and the second half of verse 33:

"In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have transcended the world."

What he says here can be taken to mean many different things, but at the moment that I read it, it became clear what the words meant for me.

"Life is Suffering" says the Buddha. I know, however, if I live in the 道，the "dao" or "way" of the Universe which is wisdom, justice, and (most importantly) love, I can take heart in the Way that the wisest of men have traveled on and I can transcend this World, which is Suffering. (I will expand on what I mean by this in later posts of this blog.)

If I hadn't rediscovered that aspect of myself, that potential, and if I hadn't reforged that spiritual side of myself (albeit not being the exact same after the process) than I would have continued to do horrible things and I would have alienated myself from everything that was important to me. I would have become a shut-in, antisocial train wreck.

Even if something right now in your life is causing you to feel uncomfortable, judged, insecure, unloved... Take heart! You can transcend it. It may turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

Holy Birth

I have a story to tell.

My name is Abahu, and I'm a shepherd. I keep track of sheep that other people own. You know, make sure they don't get eaten by anything. It's tough work, but hey, it's a Denarius.

A few nights ago, my friend Achan ("AH-khan", you gotta put your gut into it.) was helping me out with a particularly large flock. It was a really quiet night. The birds weren't fighting with each other, there weren't any wild dogs around to ward off... It was odd. But the sky... Yahweh, the sky was amazing. Stars filled it like sand filled the desert. The scent of sheep and sandalwood filled the air. I loved Bethlehem.

I turned to Achan and I asked him, "What do you think stars are?"
Achan, in his typical snark, replied, "Bright. Especially tonight."
I smiled.

I almost dozed off, it was so quiet, but I knew I needed to stay awake to make sure all 142 sheep would make it through the night. I walked over to a young ewe and whistled as she trotted over to lick my hand.

Then, the sky split open.

I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. It was like the music of cymbals, drums, and trumpets was combined with the noise of thunder, the sea, and the four winds. I put my hands up to shield my eyes... My heart was about to break out of my chest. I turned to Achan as he stared, wide-eyed, at the sky.

"Abahu! What happen? Who this?!" Achan's Galilean accent always came out when he was afraid-- He wasn't raised to speak Aramaic. He wasn't a Jew, like me.

As my eyes finally grew accustomed to the sun bursting into the night sky, I saw something I never will forget. There were people in the sky. Floating. They had wings, but they weren't moving. Then I remembered something the prophet Ezekiel had written about... Were these Messengers?

One of them started to descend, and I started to sweat. What had I done to bring this upon Achan and myself? The being touched the dry ground right in front of me, and I began to kneel down and weep silently. I took a closer look at the Messenger. He had purple skin, bright white hair and his eyes had no pupils, they were just golden spheres glowing from a mouthless head. He had to have been six cubits tall, with his wings that and half again as wide. He had the body of a very feminine man... Or a rather masculine woman.

He spoke.

"Abahu...Achan. Do not be afraid." The echoing words filled the field and shook my bones. Its voice was like music that filled my heart with peace until it began to spill out of my eyes. I began to cry again, this time with joy.

"Do not be afraid. We are here to bring you news that will bring joy to you, and to all people.
It took me a moment to realize it was speaking Hebrew. Achan didn't understand. I began to translate for it as it spoke.

"Today, in David's city, called Bethlehem, one who will save you all has been born into your world. He is Messiah, God on Earth."

As I translated for Achan, my smile returned. He seemed confused. "But... Abahu... There must be more than one baby in Bethlehem. How do we know which is the right one?"

I bit my thumb. Good question. I asked the purple-skinned Messenger, in Hebrew.

"You will know from the Signs. You will find the baby wrapped in cloth, lying in a feeding trough."

I reeled. A feeding trough? Where animals eat? This thing had to be joking. My disbelief must have shown on my face, because the Messenger gave me the closest thing it could to a smile, and shimmered into a gold light that shot straight back up into the Heavens. As suddenly as it had happened, it had ended.

Achan and I were both still shaking. "Abahu, what was that thing?"

"In my language, their name means Messenger." I replied, as I steadied myself with my staff. "We need to go tell people about this. This means all the prophets of my people... They were right. This is unbelievable."

"What about the sheep?" He slowly got to his feet and fetched his own curved staff.

"I have a feeling they'll be all right. Come on, Achan. We have a story to tell."

"Religion divides us, yes, but only because we let it."

Today was quite the eventful day for me. I had the pleasure of being able to spend time with many of my friends after my writing class. I don't even remember how, but somehow the topic migrated to religion. There was a young woman there who was starkly Christian, and she didn't like how I was reading a book ("Living Buddha, Living Christ" by Thich Nhat Hanh) that compared Christianity to Buddhism. I started to talk with her and she revealed to me that she equated Buddhism with worship of Satan, something that not only puzzled me, but also intrigued me.

I asked her why. Without going into too much detail, she had been sent on a mission trip to somewhere (I can't remember exactly where.) and she had been through a very terrifying experience involving what she saw as (and may very well have been) the possession of one or more young children. These children were Buddhist. The experience scared her and shook her so much that she began to directly associate Buddhism with what had happened.

Naturally, when I tried to explain to her my personal beliefs (which are long and complex, and will not be posted here) which include many aspects of both Buddhism and Christianity, she was less than pleased.

"It's impossible to be both Christian and something else. Either you take all of the Bible, which says it's the only way, or you don't take any of it."

 My friend shares an apartment with this woman, and kept continually telling me to stop before I start something.

Many people in this small circle of people had begun to listen to what she was telling me-- partially because I'm a charismatic speaker (or so I've been told), and partially because the woman had noticeably raised her voice. It seems I had inadvertently started something. I explained to her that most of the biggest world religions have one thing in common: They try to better the world by teaching one how to better oneself. Slowly but surely, she opened up and heard what I had to say. After too long, many people had gotten involved and had something to say.

After many controversial words on every side had been said, she and I had both found a strong respect for the other. Not one of us completely shut down on the other, all people involved had gotten a turn to speak when they needed it, and there was a stronger understanding of the other when all was said and done. No violence, no disrespect. Just different ideas coming together to form a deeper mutual understanding.

This is why I speak and write. Because ultimately, the pen is mightier than the sword, and words are what we use to convey ideas-- for the sake of peace and understanding and coexistence, rather than ignorance and close-mindedness and arrogance.