As He hung there, His body drooping like a grotesque piñata, His surroundings a carnival of human morbidity, a Dali nightmare landscape;
As humanity poured out all our spite, pain, and ignorance upon Him, and all Jerusalem echoed with our screams of hate and triumph;
The long-suffering earth, silent since the Beginning, could contain its anger no longer.
A deep, rumbling growl began, as of an infinitely huge dog who sees its master threatened; grew louder, began to rise above the screams of the jackals on its surface, became a roar of appalled rage:
NO!!!
BREAK.
CRUSH.
GRIND.
SWALLOW.
MAKE NO MORE.
NO MORE HURT HIM.
And suddenly, the paper-thin skin of dust that is gentle Mother Gaia was trembling, rippling, shrinking away from the raging furnace of the almighty Titan beneath.
The sky above blazed with the lightning swords of the great and terrible Host of Heaven, white-hot with holy wrath, who took up the earth’s cry:
Even so, Lord! You have loved them, and see how they return Your love! Send us forth, let us burn them, purge them, cleanse the earth of this disease called Man, make all pure! These mud-men shall not defile You!
Even the demons, dread spirits of non-being and death, screamed their horror at man’s treatment of the One who offered life:
We knew - You knew! - that it would end like this! But give them to us, let us consume, let us drink them, let them know our horror, to eternally be and yet not be. Let all the universe cease to be, rather than suffer them to wound you! GIVE THEM TO US!!!!!
As all creation raged against blasphemous man, strained against its bonds, prepared to destroy even itself in its fury; as the sky became opaque, angels and devils drew swords, the earth heaved and groaned, and even oblivious Man began to fear oblivion;
A Voice spoke from the cross, and it was the voice of a man, but it was also the Word that had called all things into being, the Word whose speaking makes it so, in a Voice whose quiet authority and utter finality rocked all creation:
Forgive them. They don’t know what they’re doing.
And in the ensuing silence, a trembling universe heard each drop of blood whisper:
I love them.
© John M. Munzer
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
40 Days in the Wilderness (conclusion)
Fool! Is your pride more important to you than they are? I see tears in your eyes when you look at them, when you see their sicknesses and hungers. But I offer to give them back, to release them from all their suffering; and you won’t do it, simply because you’re the best and I should just acknowledge that? What in Hell are you thinking? I can’t stand to look at you anymore, humiliating yourself by becoming one of these vermin in the vain hope that you can get them to love you the way you love them. You know how this will end, don’t you? In a few years they’ll kill you, and serve you right.
What’s so important about suffering, that you not only let them go through it, but are prepared to go through it yourself? I’ve inflicted everything I can think of upon them, and it hasn’t made them any nobler or better, just whinier. You really think this body of yours can do any better, or inspire them to do better, just because it’s You in there?
Well, the game continues, then. See you soon. And when they’re torturing you to death, tell me then that you’re right, that they can be anything but a mindlessly destructive disease.
After the Wilderness: The Tempter’s Doubts
He CAN’T be right, can he? What IS his plan? He doesn’t think of it as a game, he thinks he’s really doing something worth doing. Can it be he really sees something in these insects that I can’t? Will they learn something from his suffering after all? And what does he think HE will learn from it? And – is he just using me here? Am I just playing into his hands, being a pawn in the game he’s really playing, by fighting against him and making the mud-men’s little lives so miserable? Is he that devious? Am I really helping him turn them into something worthy of the attention he lavishes upon them? What DOES he see? He was wise once – what IS this madness that’s overtaken him, this thing he calls love? Can it be it’s not madness after all? When at last I break him, will he somehow have won?
© John M. Munzer
What’s so important about suffering, that you not only let them go through it, but are prepared to go through it yourself? I’ve inflicted everything I can think of upon them, and it hasn’t made them any nobler or better, just whinier. You really think this body of yours can do any better, or inspire them to do better, just because it’s You in there?
Well, the game continues, then. See you soon. And when they’re torturing you to death, tell me then that you’re right, that they can be anything but a mindlessly destructive disease.
After the Wilderness: The Tempter’s Doubts
He CAN’T be right, can he? What IS his plan? He doesn’t think of it as a game, he thinks he’s really doing something worth doing. Can it be he really sees something in these insects that I can’t? Will they learn something from his suffering after all? And what does he think HE will learn from it? And – is he just using me here? Am I just playing into his hands, being a pawn in the game he’s really playing, by fighting against him and making the mud-men’s little lives so miserable? Is he that devious? Am I really helping him turn them into something worthy of the attention he lavishes upon them? What DOES he see? He was wise once – what IS this madness that’s overtaken him, this thing he calls love? Can it be it’s not madness after all? When at last I break him, will he somehow have won?
© John M. Munzer
Monday, February 8, 2010
40 Days in the Wilderness (part 3)
Third Temptation
Damn it, I didn’t come here to get Scripture quoted at me! I can quote it chapter and verse too, you know. It says he will give his angels charge over you lest you dash your foot against a stone. But they always get dashed against the stones anyway, don’t they? And you’re surprised and hurt when they turn from you?
Look, there’s no point being anything but honest with you. You know what I really want. I want you to acknowledge that I know better than you. I’ve been right all along - you can’t make apes into things capable of love, or intelligence, or nobility, or any of the things you’d hoped to see in them. If you’ll admit that, then I’ll give them all back to you. I never wanted them anyway, I just took them to prove that you could never truly have them. But if you still want them, I’ll give them back. I’ll let you win the game, if you’ll just concede that I’m the better player.
Bow before me, just this once, and you can have them all, and all their kingdoms.
Bow, concede, even if you don’t mean it, even if you only do it out of this insane love you have for the dirty little things, I’ll accept that. You DO love them, don’t you? And you WOULD do anything to get them back, wouldn’t you? Look at them all. See their cities they’re so proud of, the dirty squalid holes they work so hard to build. That’s all they’re capable of, you know. This plan of yours, it’s very like you, very noble, and as always completely ignores the practicalities. They don’t follow gods who love them. They follow gods who terrify them. That’s why they follow me and not you. I win. Say it, and they’re yours, them and all the pitiful things they’ve made.
YOU WILL WORSHIP THE LORD YOUR GOD, AND HIM ONLY WILL YOU SERVE.
(To be continued...)
© John M. Munzer
Damn it, I didn’t come here to get Scripture quoted at me! I can quote it chapter and verse too, you know. It says he will give his angels charge over you lest you dash your foot against a stone. But they always get dashed against the stones anyway, don’t they? And you’re surprised and hurt when they turn from you?
Look, there’s no point being anything but honest with you. You know what I really want. I want you to acknowledge that I know better than you. I’ve been right all along - you can’t make apes into things capable of love, or intelligence, or nobility, or any of the things you’d hoped to see in them. If you’ll admit that, then I’ll give them all back to you. I never wanted them anyway, I just took them to prove that you could never truly have them. But if you still want them, I’ll give them back. I’ll let you win the game, if you’ll just concede that I’m the better player.
Bow before me, just this once, and you can have them all, and all their kingdoms.
Bow, concede, even if you don’t mean it, even if you only do it out of this insane love you have for the dirty little things, I’ll accept that. You DO love them, don’t you? And you WOULD do anything to get them back, wouldn’t you? Look at them all. See their cities they’re so proud of, the dirty squalid holes they work so hard to build. That’s all they’re capable of, you know. This plan of yours, it’s very like you, very noble, and as always completely ignores the practicalities. They don’t follow gods who love them. They follow gods who terrify them. That’s why they follow me and not you. I win. Say it, and they’re yours, them and all the pitiful things they’ve made.
YOU WILL WORSHIP THE LORD YOUR GOD, AND HIM ONLY WILL YOU SERVE.
(To be continued...)
© John M. Munzer
Sunday, February 7, 2010
40 Days in the Wilderness (Part 2)
Second Temptation
You can live on heavenly bread; they can’t. Only by feeding them can you enslave them. Oh, right, you’ll say you don’t want slaves, you want sons. But whatever you call it, you want them to obey. And slaves and sons alike obey the one who feeds them.
But you’ll say that if they come to you merely for bread, they won’t be coming for your sake, only their bellies. And you want to be worshipped for your own sake, don’t you? Come, then, I’ll show you how to make it happen.
Jump down from here.
Don’t look at me like that, I don’t mean you should commit suicide. I mean that your father will send angels to catch you.
Consider: If everyone knows that God breaks all the rules of cause and effect for you, such that gravity and death itself have no power over you, they will worship you simply out of awe.
Better still, if they know you can get away with anything, they’ll believe they can, too. And that’s all they’ve ever really wanted, that kind of freedom. They will indeed be as gods, like I told them in the Garden. Why do you think they listened to me? I promised what you denied – unlimited knowledge, power, freedom, and no consequences. If you deliver on the promise I broke, they will all turn from me and follow you. Surely you aren’t too selfish to give them what they want? Surely you won’t keep that kind of freedom to yourself.
I know, you’ve forgone that freedom and made yourself limited like them. How does that help them? You don’t jump into the water to save a drowning man, you throw him a rope so he can climb up to where you are. They don’t WANT you to be a man, they want to be gods. I tell you, these apes of yours are much more like me than like you, and I know how they feel when they chafe at their limitations. Go on, jump! Show them Daddy will always bail them out.
YOU SHALL NOT TEMPT THE LORD YOUR GOD.
(To be continued...)
© John M. Munzer
You can live on heavenly bread; they can’t. Only by feeding them can you enslave them. Oh, right, you’ll say you don’t want slaves, you want sons. But whatever you call it, you want them to obey. And slaves and sons alike obey the one who feeds them.
But you’ll say that if they come to you merely for bread, they won’t be coming for your sake, only their bellies. And you want to be worshipped for your own sake, don’t you? Come, then, I’ll show you how to make it happen.
Jump down from here.
Don’t look at me like that, I don’t mean you should commit suicide. I mean that your father will send angels to catch you.
Consider: If everyone knows that God breaks all the rules of cause and effect for you, such that gravity and death itself have no power over you, they will worship you simply out of awe.
Better still, if they know you can get away with anything, they’ll believe they can, too. And that’s all they’ve ever really wanted, that kind of freedom. They will indeed be as gods, like I told them in the Garden. Why do you think they listened to me? I promised what you denied – unlimited knowledge, power, freedom, and no consequences. If you deliver on the promise I broke, they will all turn from me and follow you. Surely you aren’t too selfish to give them what they want? Surely you won’t keep that kind of freedom to yourself.
I know, you’ve forgone that freedom and made yourself limited like them. How does that help them? You don’t jump into the water to save a drowning man, you throw him a rope so he can climb up to where you are. They don’t WANT you to be a man, they want to be gods. I tell you, these apes of yours are much more like me than like you, and I know how they feel when they chafe at their limitations. Go on, jump! Show them Daddy will always bail them out.
YOU SHALL NOT TEMPT THE LORD YOUR GOD.
(To be continued...)
© John M. Munzer
Saturday, February 6, 2010
40 Days in the Wilderness (Part 1)
First Temptation
So, here you are. I must say, I am impressed. No one else could have sustained a fast this long.
But speaking of sustenance, you look famished! How ironic if you went through all this only to die of starvation before the real work began. Really, you ought to eat something, if you plan to live long enough to try to establish your kingdom in the middle of mine.
And if I were you, I’d start by turning stones into bread, or something like that.
It’s not just you who’s hungry, you know. Millions don’t have enough bread, and you and I both know there will be billions more. Undo the curse. If they knew that following you meant they would be well-fed without having to work for it, they would love and serve you always.
Ever watch one of the creatures starve? You claim to love them so much, but you let them grow weak, and bloated, and their bodies devour muscle, brain, everything in the vain attempt to survive, and they eat foul things, even each other – but they die anyway in horrible pain. That doesn’t have to happen ever again. Of course they’ll die anyway in a few short years – WE know that, even if they refuse to think about it. But let them die fat and happy, and they will bless you for it. They aren’t like you, you know. They would much rather be secure and comfortable than holy and hungry. You want to win over these animals? Animals are driven by food.
Look, you’re here to know what it’s like to be one of them, aren’t you? Then give in, as they do, to the cravings of the flesh. How else can you empathize with the glutton, drunk, and lecher who mean to be stronger than their appetites, but can’t? They’ll never see you as anything but the overbearing father who doesn’t know what it’s like to be a child, unless you fall short of perfection as they do.
MAN DOES NOT LIVE BY BREAD ALONE, BUT BY EVERY WORD THAT PROCEEDS FROM THE MOUTH OF GOD.
To be continued...
© John M. Munzer
So, here you are. I must say, I am impressed. No one else could have sustained a fast this long.
But speaking of sustenance, you look famished! How ironic if you went through all this only to die of starvation before the real work began. Really, you ought to eat something, if you plan to live long enough to try to establish your kingdom in the middle of mine.
And if I were you, I’d start by turning stones into bread, or something like that.
It’s not just you who’s hungry, you know. Millions don’t have enough bread, and you and I both know there will be billions more. Undo the curse. If they knew that following you meant they would be well-fed without having to work for it, they would love and serve you always.
Ever watch one of the creatures starve? You claim to love them so much, but you let them grow weak, and bloated, and their bodies devour muscle, brain, everything in the vain attempt to survive, and they eat foul things, even each other – but they die anyway in horrible pain. That doesn’t have to happen ever again. Of course they’ll die anyway in a few short years – WE know that, even if they refuse to think about it. But let them die fat and happy, and they will bless you for it. They aren’t like you, you know. They would much rather be secure and comfortable than holy and hungry. You want to win over these animals? Animals are driven by food.
Look, you’re here to know what it’s like to be one of them, aren’t you? Then give in, as they do, to the cravings of the flesh. How else can you empathize with the glutton, drunk, and lecher who mean to be stronger than their appetites, but can’t? They’ll never see you as anything but the overbearing father who doesn’t know what it’s like to be a child, unless you fall short of perfection as they do.
MAN DOES NOT LIVE BY BREAD ALONE, BUT BY EVERY WORD THAT PROCEEDS FROM THE MOUTH OF GOD.
To be continued...
© John M. Munzer
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Originality
Truly there is nothing new under the sun.
All I say and do has already been said and done.
My new, original thoughts were old a century ago –
Yet something still remains that the world has yet to know.
A penny for my thoughts; a penny saved, a penny earned;
The currency of words already coined which have returned.
We pass them on, we pass them around, but no one owns these things –
The same ones come to everyone, whatever Fortune brings.
Originality is the art of remembering what we hear,
But forgetting where we heard it – or so it would appear.
Clichés spring forth fully formed from the collective brain.
We can’t think of everything for ourselves, so we must join the refrain.
A bird in hand’s worth two in bush, and crime just doesn’t pay.
Opportunity knocks, the sun shines, time to make the hay.
Don’t pick at it or you’ll get stuck like that and you’ll go blind.
Mind over matter, mind your manners, what matters can make you lose your mind.
The wise learn from the mistakes of others, the ordinary from their own,
And fools never learn a damn thing though they mess up all day long.
And we keep saying and writing down what we think we should have learned
But still our children’s children will be taught by the hands they’ve burned.
What is truth? Do we swear to tell it? When will it set us free?
What is life? Do we dare to live it? To be or not to be?
Why ask why? Why the hell not? What does everything mean?
Time is short, the questions long, for ghosts in the machine.
Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do good people do bad things?
Why are we born? Why do we die? What should we do in between?
It’s not that we keep rediscovering truths that we forget –
We ask the same old questions ‘cause we don’t know the right answers yet.
Truly there is nothing new under the sun.
All I say and do has already been said and done.
My questions and my answers were old centuries ago –
Yet still we ask, and seek, and knock, and hope someday we’ll know.
© John M. Munzer
(Yeah, I know, the irony is not lost on me.)
All I say and do has already been said and done.
My new, original thoughts were old a century ago –
Yet something still remains that the world has yet to know.
A penny for my thoughts; a penny saved, a penny earned;
The currency of words already coined which have returned.
We pass them on, we pass them around, but no one owns these things –
The same ones come to everyone, whatever Fortune brings.
Originality is the art of remembering what we hear,
But forgetting where we heard it – or so it would appear.
Clichés spring forth fully formed from the collective brain.
We can’t think of everything for ourselves, so we must join the refrain.
A bird in hand’s worth two in bush, and crime just doesn’t pay.
Opportunity knocks, the sun shines, time to make the hay.
Don’t pick at it or you’ll get stuck like that and you’ll go blind.
Mind over matter, mind your manners, what matters can make you lose your mind.
The wise learn from the mistakes of others, the ordinary from their own,
And fools never learn a damn thing though they mess up all day long.
And we keep saying and writing down what we think we should have learned
But still our children’s children will be taught by the hands they’ve burned.
What is truth? Do we swear to tell it? When will it set us free?
What is life? Do we dare to live it? To be or not to be?
Why ask why? Why the hell not? What does everything mean?
Time is short, the questions long, for ghosts in the machine.
Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do good people do bad things?
Why are we born? Why do we die? What should we do in between?
It’s not that we keep rediscovering truths that we forget –
We ask the same old questions ‘cause we don’t know the right answers yet.
Truly there is nothing new under the sun.
All I say and do has already been said and done.
My questions and my answers were old centuries ago –
Yet still we ask, and seek, and knock, and hope someday we’ll know.
© John M. Munzer
(Yeah, I know, the irony is not lost on me.)
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Repentance?
I’ll take twenty lashes, wear sackcloth and ashes,
Give away all that I have, for free;
I’ll sigh and I’ll cry, I’ll try and I’ll try,
To make you accept my apology.
I’ll sit in my room, seal it like a tomb,
And spend a year thinking about what I’ve done.
I’ll tell you I’m sorry, I’ll fret and I’ll worry.
I’ll spend five weeks not doing anything fun.
I’ll be really sad for being so bad,
Spend two million years as your personal slave.
You can beat me with sticks, I’ll take forty licks.
You can nag at me, yell at me, rant and rave.
I’ll write fifty times “I must stop these crimes”.
Then you can erase it, make me start again.
Put me in detention, and in-school suspension.
Make me most miserable of all men.
Give me a fine for crossing that line –
I won’t whine, I know it’s just what I get.
Give me all I deserve, and then you’ll observe,
I still haven’t finished saying “Sorry” yet.
I’ll moan and I’ll groan as I sit here alone.
I’ll write a whole book about what I did wrong.
I’ll write all I’ve learned, the sentence I’ve earned,
And why all the punishments must last so long.
I’ll weep in my sorrow from now till tomorrow,
I’ll shave off my hair and go live in a cave;
Ask me whatever, I’ll do it forever –
Anything but change the way I behave.
© John M. Munzer
Give away all that I have, for free;
I’ll sigh and I’ll cry, I’ll try and I’ll try,
To make you accept my apology.
I’ll sit in my room, seal it like a tomb,
And spend a year thinking about what I’ve done.
I’ll tell you I’m sorry, I’ll fret and I’ll worry.
I’ll spend five weeks not doing anything fun.
I’ll be really sad for being so bad,
Spend two million years as your personal slave.
You can beat me with sticks, I’ll take forty licks.
You can nag at me, yell at me, rant and rave.
I’ll write fifty times “I must stop these crimes”.
Then you can erase it, make me start again.
Put me in detention, and in-school suspension.
Make me most miserable of all men.
Give me a fine for crossing that line –
I won’t whine, I know it’s just what I get.
Give me all I deserve, and then you’ll observe,
I still haven’t finished saying “Sorry” yet.
I’ll moan and I’ll groan as I sit here alone.
I’ll write a whole book about what I did wrong.
I’ll write all I’ve learned, the sentence I’ve earned,
And why all the punishments must last so long.
I’ll weep in my sorrow from now till tomorrow,
I’ll shave off my hair and go live in a cave;
Ask me whatever, I’ll do it forever –
Anything but change the way I behave.
© John M. Munzer
Monday, February 1, 2010
Bi-polar Blues
(I imagine this being sung, alternating a slow, gritty blues riff with a fast swing)
Well, I don’t see no reason to live, and the sky is cold and grey;
Well, I don’t see no reason to live, and the sky is cold and grey;
Well there ain’t nothing for me no more, I ain’t getting’ outta bed today.
Now I dance, take a chance, make romance, prance along
And I’m shoutin’ out, out-and-out roustabout, shout a song
And I’m all around town, smile, frown, up an’ down, here’s my crown
Now I’m the king of everything, buy some bling, gotta sing, ring-a-ding-ding,
Damn! I’m just flyin’ too high!!!!!!!!
Sigh…
Well, I ran up too much on the credit card, when I was high yesterday;
Well, I ran up too much on the credit card, when I was high yesterday;
I’m even worse off than I was before, ‘cuz now there’s the devil to pay.
But what the hell, let’s play!
Hey, hey, hey, that’s the way, play today, later pay, what the hey,
Have a drink, never think, ‘fore you blink I’ll slink away,
Up all night, feelin’ light, not so bright, it’s all right, mighty gay,
So stoked, gonna joke, gonna smoke it down, toke it down, choke it down today –
Damn! I’m just flyin’ too high!!!!!!!!
My my my my my my my!
What the hell did I do last night? Man, I’m feelin’ mighty sick;
What in the name of God did I DO last night?!?! Man! I’m feelin’ mighty sick;
Well, I thought I was feelin’ all right last night, but now I see it was just a trick.
(I sure hope that the charges don’t stick!)
You say Prozac? I say no, Mack, I don’t wanna take no pill,
All I need’s a decent feed, and I won’t be feelin’ so ill,
Gotta wake up, gotta make up some excuse for the work that I missed;
Oh, dear Lord almighty have mercy, but the boss-man’s sure gonna be pissed!
Well… I guess maybe I’ll see a doctor, ‘cuz this craziness isn’t me.
Yeah, I’ll see that head-shrinker man too, and I’ll try to pay his fee. (We’ll have to wait an’ see).
Gotta lose these bi-polar blues, man, ‘cuz it’s a ugly, ugly place to be!
© John M. Munzer
Well, I don’t see no reason to live, and the sky is cold and grey;
Well, I don’t see no reason to live, and the sky is cold and grey;
Well there ain’t nothing for me no more, I ain’t getting’ outta bed today.
Now I dance, take a chance, make romance, prance along
And I’m shoutin’ out, out-and-out roustabout, shout a song
And I’m all around town, smile, frown, up an’ down, here’s my crown
Now I’m the king of everything, buy some bling, gotta sing, ring-a-ding-ding,
Damn! I’m just flyin’ too high!!!!!!!!
Sigh…
Well, I ran up too much on the credit card, when I was high yesterday;
Well, I ran up too much on the credit card, when I was high yesterday;
I’m even worse off than I was before, ‘cuz now there’s the devil to pay.
But what the hell, let’s play!
Hey, hey, hey, that’s the way, play today, later pay, what the hey,
Have a drink, never think, ‘fore you blink I’ll slink away,
Up all night, feelin’ light, not so bright, it’s all right, mighty gay,
So stoked, gonna joke, gonna smoke it down, toke it down, choke it down today –
Damn! I’m just flyin’ too high!!!!!!!!
My my my my my my my!
What the hell did I do last night? Man, I’m feelin’ mighty sick;
What in the name of God did I DO last night?!?! Man! I’m feelin’ mighty sick;
Well, I thought I was feelin’ all right last night, but now I see it was just a trick.
(I sure hope that the charges don’t stick!)
You say Prozac? I say no, Mack, I don’t wanna take no pill,
All I need’s a decent feed, and I won’t be feelin’ so ill,
Gotta wake up, gotta make up some excuse for the work that I missed;
Oh, dear Lord almighty have mercy, but the boss-man’s sure gonna be pissed!
Well… I guess maybe I’ll see a doctor, ‘cuz this craziness isn’t me.
Yeah, I’ll see that head-shrinker man too, and I’ll try to pay his fee. (We’ll have to wait an’ see).
Gotta lose these bi-polar blues, man, ‘cuz it’s a ugly, ugly place to be!
© John M. Munzer
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