Ethereal Dialogues …

doing battle

1- Doing battle…..

The flickering light of the candle is dancing with the fresh breeze of the evening…the outstretched meadow dotted with short trees at the distance is suffused in crimson colors streaked with the faint gold rays of the departing sun……I walked into the big terrace until I reached the golden railing. There were magnificent stairways on both sides. And behind me were the huge glass doors leading into the great hall. Suddenly there was a shudder in the grounds. All candles went out with a strong whiff of the wind and it looked as if the sun itself fell behind the horizon. I saw his silhouette approach….    

He said, “you are getting weak.”

I answered, “Don’t count on it. What brings you here now?”

“Easy does it. I just want to talk to you. I…” 

“You and I have nothing to talk about.”

(I walked away, but instantly he was again blocking my way)

“I want to save you the trouble of this lengthy unnecessary war.”

(I looked at him for a moment in the dark shadows. How can he wear that mask? It is a mask. That handsome seemingly innocent face with that charming smile)

I said, “well, maybe then you should stop harassing me.”

He answered, “I am going to do just that. Only you have to wise up and fulfill your part of the bargain.”

“Bargain? What bargain? Are you insane?”

“Now before we get nasty, remember what happened when we met last time. You don’t want to repeat that agony again?”

 (he was sarcastic and seemed to savor the moment)

I challenged him, “I am not afraid of you. Despite your vicious attack, you see me still standing.”

“Defiant to the end. But I can still see the scars in your heart and your mind. You cannot fool me.”

“My scars only remind me that there is no alternative to beating you.”

“I know your weaknesses. And trust me, I shall crush you. Yes, if you don’t wise up and listen to me I shall really make you regret it. I shall make an example of you to all those who defy me.”

“I wonder how you can say such things with that sleazy smile still on your ugly face. Why don’t you please leave me alone?”

“First mistake. You know I “please” only when I win.”

“Then get out of my face you savage monster.” 

(he sneered at me impatiently)

He hissed angrily, “I am offering you a golden opportunity to stop all your suffering. I can make you happy and rich and…”

“You are a liar. (I was shouting) you are a liar. Only a fool will bargain with a liar and I am no fool.”

(His mask was melting now. His eyes started to glow with that unmistakable fire. His breathing got heavier, as his lips receded to expose the bloody fangs. As he spoke, he sounded like a hissing snake)

He repeated, “I told you I know your weaknesses. The last time I hit you and left my scars on you. This time I know how to bring you to your knees.” 

(I started walking towards the glass doors)

I shouted confidently, “I have my protection you buffoon.”

(He did not follow me. He thundered the words scornfully)

“I shall hit those you call beloved….you shall be responsible for their demise….I shall___/”

(I whirled around in fury. My heart was already crushed by the mere threat. I screamed at the top of my lungs)

you cannot dare… you wouldn’t dare…”

(I ran towards him with my small fist in the air …He blocked my fist with ease, then his huge bloody knuckles flew up high and the next thing I knew, I was knocked flat on the floor)

He thundered again, He said sarcastically, “ Don’t even try again…”

(The hurt to my dignity was greater than the physical ache. I sprang up ignoring the pain)

I stubbornly shouted,  “you cannot defeat me… I know that you cannot defeat me.” 

He blurted, “But I can defeat them very easily…”

(I lost my mind and jumped at him with both fists and kept kicking him until I got tired. He waited until I stopped. Then he grabbed me by both hands and tossed me in the air like a tiny toy. I fell to the ground, and then he started kicking me until I could not move any more.)

He commanded, “Stay down and watch how I shall crush you…and them

He started to laugh so loud that it felt like a booming earthquake. At that moment the great light gradually appeared from inside the great hall of the sanctuary. It got stronger fast. The thunderous laughter of the monster stopped. The ugly one was shrinking in size and stamina very fast. His voice turned into an agonizing moaning…… the Passion

                  2– THE CHANGING CROWN….

            I was sitting in the last pew at the far end of the sanctuary. The sun rays were creating a myriad of colors streaking through the stained glass windows. I sat there motionless, even though my face was certainly betraying the storm raging inside my mind. My thoughts were whirling in my head at a maddening pace. I was fighting anger, depression and disappointment all at the same time. Just when despair was about to be added to the brew, I felt someone quietly come to sit next to me. I did not turn around to see who it was. He sat there quietly for a while.

             It was getting dark now as the sun outside went down, and I did not bother to turn the lights on. His voice touched my ears ever so softly.

“Why are you fighting with yourself?” (When I did not answer he tried again) “you don’t have to torment yourself because of that defeat.”

(I hardly heard my own voice answer)

I whispered, “I let him trick me into this fight. I knew it was an unbalanced battle. I knew I should not let him drag me into a challenge, and yet …how stupid. I forgot all the lessons I learned.”

He answered, “Don’t look back. You can do better in the future.”

“Each time I say the same thing. It seems I am hopeless.”

“These are his words, and you know he is a liar. Your words were true, when you said that you have protection.”

“Look what happened now. I am going to be the one causing him to attack all my loved ones.”

“Nonsense, he never stopped attacking you or them for a single moment. Do you think if you bargain with him, he is going to stop fighting them?”

I thought for a moment and then slowly said, “No…I should have known that. Oh, I should have known that.  

“He is a liar. And you easily fall for his old tricks. “

There was a short silence before I could answer in bewilderment, “I don’t want them to suffer. Please. I am expendable but they are precious.” 

“Wrong again. No one is expendable. But suffering is a means for honing human talents. It keeps a wise person constantly on guard.”

(It became quite dark now. Yet there was a single candle glowing brightly in front of the large icon of the king. My eyes were fixed on the painful spectacle. The purple robe, the mock scepter, the eyes looking up towards heaven, the thorny crown with blood streaking down on his brow. Tears started to flow quietly down my face)

I couldn’t help but whisper in agony, “Oh, my Lord, I failed you again. You suffered all that pain for me, and I failed you again. But I love you. I really love you. How can I prove it to you when I keep failing time and again ever so shamefully?”

The words fell ever so gently on my ears, “Remember your own words. It is so easy to deal with the king. He does not need explanations or proofs. Unlike people, He already sees through the heart.”

“But I failed. I failed and all I have is all these painful disfiguring scars. Whenever I hear those words during the service,” lift up your hearts” I feel like I have to run away. I don’t belong there. How can I lift up such a filthy heart full of these ugly scars? It would be like an abomination.” 

Again the words came to answer, “To the contrary. Which is better, a soldier bloody, wounded and broken down or a clean soldier who cowardly ran away from doing battle? Whosoever finds his life will lose it, and whosoever loses his life… will save it….remember. Those scars you are ashamed of are priceless indeed. They are the pearls in the crown of glory.”

I looked straight at the wounded king in the icon at the front and said, “Crown of glory?”

“Yes. Certainly. Here and now you have to wear this crown…the crown of thorns. Only to have it exchanged later for the crown of glory. If you don’t have the crown of thorns here…how will you get the crown of glory? I know what you are thinking. No, you cannot give your crown to one you love. Each must earn his own. And now you know how.”

Silence reigned for some time, then finally I turned around to see the speaker. Nobody was there. But his words still echoed in the air….      

Gethsemane*…

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On the dirt trail in the country side two fellows were walking together. The sprawling fields all around filled the fresh air with a faint aroma of vintage wine.

  • So what do you do?
  • I am a priest. How about you?
  • (hesitantly) Me? Oh, I am … a pastor.
  • Sheep herder, that is?
  • Kind of… So, what does a priest do?
  • Let me think. We do a lot of things. But the most important thing is that we are the ones who make the offerings on behalf of all the people.
  • What kind of offerings?
  • (laughing) Oh, don’t worry. We are not going to kill the lambs you shepherd.
  • (irritated) You cannot kill the lambs I shepherd… (Thinking for a moment) on second thought, I think you can. Actually some of you did.
  • That was in the past/
  • Not quite. Very recently this happened. Killing does not always involve a knife.
  • I see. You are very protective. But you are talking about a small number of priests who belong to an old cult that no longer exists.
  • I know that even today, there are priests in the Christian church, there are priests in Buddhist temples, and there are priests even in the satanic cults. And numerous other kinds of belief systems. Not to mention that even in the most noble of these, there are old and new systems that have different traditions.
  • Are you trying to be sarcastic? So how many kinds of sheep herders are there?
  • Well, that is the problem. There is only one kind. The kind that would sacrifice themselves for the safety of their flock. After all that is the real meaning of the word pastor.
  • Bingo. We are the priests who do just that.
  • Are you serious? You mean priests who shepherd their flocks as pastors?
  • Yes, as a matter of fact the Lord and Master of us priests, is called the Good Shepherd. He did sacrifice himself for his flocks.
  • Amazing. You are talking about OUR Lord and Master. We seem to have a mix up here.
  • No mix up, sheep herder. A few hundred years ago a smart guy once said, “A rose by any other name would still smell sweet.”
  • Now you remind me. Our Lord and Master himself once said, “A tree is known by its fruit.” So, an orange tree cannot produce olives for example.
  • You got it. That is why only the kind of priest who will be happy to sacrifice himself for his flock and always leads them to the green pastures of truth, love and grace will be called A Christian Priest. Never mind the imitations. Some wear the same clothes and speak the same lingo and even smile just like the original ones. But you know, this is like the fig tree dressed up to look like an orange tree.

It was high noon. They were approaching the farm House called Gethsemane*. When suddenly five men with machine guns seemed to come from nowhere and surrounded them. They had their heads and faces wrapped in black scarves, leaving only their bloody red eyes glaring down at them. They stopped.

“Where are you heading Christians?” barked one of the gunmen. They looked at each other, and then the priest answered calmly, “Home. We are heading home.” The gang moved in a little closer, while their leader spoke again, “where is this…home? On these grounds? Or may be …   underground?” he laughed with his friends, and when he did not get an answer, he fired a few shots on the ground near their feet shouting, “Cat bite your tongues?”

Then the pastor said, “What do you want?”

“What do I want? Yeah, what do I want? Well, I am a very kind and generous man; I always like to give your likes a choice first. You can abandon your unholy religion and join us…”

When he stopped, the priest prodded, “Or?”

The brute walked towards him until he was inches away…. He pulled his scarf off his face as they locked eyes. The Pastor screamed as he recognized the man,

“You…? I cannot believe it…Aren’t you…?”

“Yes I am. Just because you gave me some food last week, you thought you could buy me?” the thug retorted. He walked away from them. When he was back in line with his friends, he turned and yelled, “Say it now. You will join us, or you shall join the fools we just killed in the farm house?” Both men were horrified. The priest fell on his knees sobbing while the pastor raised his arms towards heaven, “you killed them…murderers…murderers.”

In a few moments they were both sprayed with bullets among the joyous shouts of the villains. Priest and shepherd, both fell down to the ground as a little river of blood ran to water the plants in the fields around. With his dying breath, the priest whispered, “Olives had to be pressed for the precious oil.” The pastor smiled and said, “And the grapes… had to be pressed for… wine.” As they closed their eyes to see heaven, their cut up blessed bodies became a reminder that Saints also had to be pressed so that their holy blood bears witness of the life giving faith in their Lord…the Good Shepherd.

 

 

John 10:12 But he that is an hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth: and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep.

 

*Gethsemane means oil press.