06-11-2011, 12:00 AM
THE TEACHING ON THE SWORD
Rain clouds drift through the sky, but there is no rain today, only heat and more heat. You are irritable as you walk down the road toward Jerusalem. Your brothers and sisters walk ahead of you. You lag swatting at flies, grumbling to yourself because you want nothing more than to go to sleep in the shade of an olive tree until night comes. But he will not allow it. You have finally escaped the crowds, and he says you must rush on. You hear his voice, teaching , as always...but can't make out most of the words until he calls:
"Did you hear that, brothers?" Yeshu stops and turns around to look straight at you.
You squint against the glare to see him. His black hair halos his face in tight , sweat-drenched curls. The sun beats down upon your head like a fiery hammer.
"No. I'm too far behind. What did you say?"
"We were talking about the art of being truly present with God."
The disciples gather around him in a milling circle, listening.
They can tell by the tone of voice that this is another lesson, and they want to hear it.
Unlike you. You just want to get a cold drink of water.
As he needs you to, you say, "That sounds ridiculous. Am I not always present with God? How could I be otherwise, for you have told us that God is everywhere, all the time."
He suppresses a smile. It's his way of thanking you for asking the questions no one else will. You are his acknowledged adversary, and he both resents and cherishes it.
Yeshu says, "I think, in fact, that people are almost never present with God. They are thinking about the past or the future, worried about what their enemies are doing, or worse, what their friends are plotting. But rarely do they live truly Now. And that is where God live."
You flap your arms in exasperation, "Very fascinating, but I don't see what that has to do with the art of the sword."
He cuts the air with his hand, as though swinging an invisible sword. "The sword has a living heart. It beats. It listens. It strikes. But the blow is only lethal when the swordsman acts in an instant of utter awareness of the cause of life and death."
You glance around at the disciples. They look as mystified as you do. Poor Matya, his young face is screwed up in total confusion.
"Truly," you say, "I hate your parables. They are utter nonsense. I wish you would speak straightly."
He tilts his head, and smiles. "I mean that it is only when you are fully present with another that you can know him, or love him."
"Or 'it' in the case of a sword."
"Yes. Very good, brother, I knew you would understand."
He smiles broadly, turns, and heads up the road again.
The disciples fall into line behind him, their sandals kicking up puffs of tan dust. You, alone, remain standing,grimacing at his back.
It takes several moments before you realize he means "... or in the case of God."
You shake your head, annoyed that it was meant specifically for you, and run to catch up.
The Betrayal page 34, 35
Rain clouds drift through the sky, but there is no rain today, only heat and more heat. You are irritable as you walk down the road toward Jerusalem. Your brothers and sisters walk ahead of you. You lag swatting at flies, grumbling to yourself because you want nothing more than to go to sleep in the shade of an olive tree until night comes. But he will not allow it. You have finally escaped the crowds, and he says you must rush on. You hear his voice, teaching , as always...but can't make out most of the words until he calls:
"Did you hear that, brothers?" Yeshu stops and turns around to look straight at you.
You squint against the glare to see him. His black hair halos his face in tight , sweat-drenched curls. The sun beats down upon your head like a fiery hammer.
"No. I'm too far behind. What did you say?"
"We were talking about the art of being truly present with God."
The disciples gather around him in a milling circle, listening.
They can tell by the tone of voice that this is another lesson, and they want to hear it.
Unlike you. You just want to get a cold drink of water.
As he needs you to, you say, "That sounds ridiculous. Am I not always present with God? How could I be otherwise, for you have told us that God is everywhere, all the time."
He suppresses a smile. It's his way of thanking you for asking the questions no one else will. You are his acknowledged adversary, and he both resents and cherishes it.
Yeshu says, "I think, in fact, that people are almost never present with God. They are thinking about the past or the future, worried about what their enemies are doing, or worse, what their friends are plotting. But rarely do they live truly Now. And that is where God live."
You flap your arms in exasperation, "Very fascinating, but I don't see what that has to do with the art of the sword."
He cuts the air with his hand, as though swinging an invisible sword. "The sword has a living heart. It beats. It listens. It strikes. But the blow is only lethal when the swordsman acts in an instant of utter awareness of the cause of life and death."
You glance around at the disciples. They look as mystified as you do. Poor Matya, his young face is screwed up in total confusion.
"Truly," you say, "I hate your parables. They are utter nonsense. I wish you would speak straightly."
He tilts his head, and smiles. "I mean that it is only when you are fully present with another that you can know him, or love him."
"Or 'it' in the case of a sword."
"Yes. Very good, brother, I knew you would understand."
He smiles broadly, turns, and heads up the road again.
The disciples fall into line behind him, their sandals kicking up puffs of tan dust. You, alone, remain standing,grimacing at his back.
It takes several moments before you realize he means "... or in the case of God."
You shake your head, annoyed that it was meant specifically for you, and run to catch up.
The Betrayal page 34, 35