Let's face it, THE reason anyone gets involved with
Theology, Bibles, Churches, Torahs and Synagogues or Korans and Mosques is
because just below the surface of EVERYONE is the fear and concerns about not
living, but dying. We are the only sentient beings on the planet that know
we will die sooner or later. Chewie my hilarious Shih Tzu has no sense or
her yet to be announced passing so lives the carefree life of a dog unconcerned
about attending church or holy day services or being absolutely sure of ending
up in the absolutely true only Church of God under the only true leader on
earth. Christianity has that kind of pressure behind it, at least in the
Churches of God, Splits, Splinters and Slivers.
The other pressure is to become perfect or mature
as our heavenly Father is perfect or mature but I can't deal with that
either. I have a looooooooooooooooong way to go and always
did.
Billions of human being have come and gone to
date. But as long as it is not us, no problem. They no doubt thought
the same way back in their time. When I see a picture from the 19th
century of crowds of people in Times Square or during the depression, my first
thought is, "they are all dead." That picture is a slice in time that has
come and gone. All pictures are that way. I know the answer to my
youthful question or musing over what would happen to the Worldwide Church of
God when Herbert Armstrong or "even" Garner Ted and others were DEAD? I
never for a moment thought any of us were going to live and be the exclusively
changed in a any moment or twinkling. I am too Dutch and too practical for
that. What was the chance? Zero mostly!
My lovely, kind, generous, compulsive, small world
dear mom died a few months back. I have her cremains right over
>>>>>>>>>>>. All that she was is now
reduced to star dust again from which we all sprang. As Physicist Neil
DeGrasse Tyson notes. "None of us would exist if stars had not had the
courtesy to puke up their guts into the universe and provide us with all that
became us." I like that. I don't mind going back to being stardust
someday. I like it better than getting planted in an expensive box in a
concrete vault in a boring place wearing a suit and tie! Blech! It's
easier to think of mom as Star Dust again and more philosophically
correct. I suppose if we buried the dead so they could nourish the earth I
might feel better about that but we don't.
Pause....Ok, back. My sister just called and
said my dad has gone into the confusion and angry stage, he is 97, but had a
nice talk last night with his own mom and dad who came to visit him. He
wanted to know why his room was purple. It is not uncommon for those
entering their last days to have such conversations with their long dead parents
or grandparents, or even children. It is common. My mom talked to her
father just before she passed. Somehow that is encouraging and seems
unconnected with them being in good or bad places. He also threw the
wastebasket thru a window so I know he wants out. Sigh... You
can live too long in our culture I suppose. I really love my dad and will
miss him.... Both my parents were very nice editions of Stardust highly
organized and conscious of itself.
Anyway...in the bigger picture, all this COG leader
bluster about being an Apostle, a Prophet or of all crazy things, an Elijah to
come yet some more or a Joshua the Dumb Ass Fake High Priest of 2013 is all
related to our knowledge that our lives are limited in scope and have an
expiration date. All religion, sane and insane stems from this
knowing. The Wonderful World Tomorrow helped me cope with the not as
Wonderful World Today. The Kingdom of God raised my hopes and lowered my
fears while living in the Kingdoms of Men.
I'd like to share some thoughts on death and dying
that are not grounded in religion or hoping something is true but having no
actual proof of it being true. Proof to one is mere belief and wishful
thinking to others. Faith, in my actual experience is what we have before
the facts change it once again.
I really love the perspective in this commentary on
dying. I include just the introduction to interest those interested in such
things and where to read the rest of it following.
Stardust
Part I: Meditations on a Cemetery
I have always wanted, when I die, to be
cremated rather than buried. The living, not the dead, are the ones who have
need of the space and resources that would otherwise be used for a burial
ground. On the other hand, if there are to be graveyards, this is how they
should be – a good place to be at peace, to be alone with one’s thoughts, and to
remember. They are, after all, for the sake of the living and not the
deceased.
It is a warm, peaceful summer afternoon.
Serried rows of headstones rise from the expansive green lawns, interspersed
with flowers and hedges; great trees shade the graves at their feet in musty
reddish-green and cool dappled gold. Other than the soft chirping of crickets in
the grass and the gentle rustle of the wind, drowsy in the late afternoon sun,
it is still and silent, creating the impression that this is a place separate
from the world.
Most of the graves are plain white headstones
engraved with the names of those who lie buried there. Some are polished granite
or marble markers, the letters carved in them as sharp as if chiseled yesterday,
while others are softer limestone, their inscriptions weathered and dimmed by
time. Among the headstones is the occasional tall white mausoleum; some are
freestanding, their sides clad in ivy, while others are built into hillsides.
Some of the older graves are covered in beds of moss, while a few – I notice one
or two – are freshly dug, plots of raw earth in the peaceful green. Where the
land rolls, worn stone steps lead up from the winding main path to enable
visitors to walk among the gravestones.
Small, colorful flags ripple in the wind at
the head of each veteran’s grave. I note in amazement how many there are, and I
am reminded that blood is the eternal price of liberty. While most other people
have engraved headstones, many of the veterans have only small, flat metal
plaques set into the earth, paid for, I presume, by the government for their
service. It seems strange, and yet somehow fitting, that they should have such
humble memorials.
In this place, with thoughts of transience
uppermost on my mind, I inevitably reflect on the words of others who once
pondered the same things. At such times, I think of the question posed by a
long-ago psalmist – “What is man, that thou art mindful of him?” – or the
Buddhist who meditated on the crematory smoke arising from Toribeyama. Walking
through a cemetery, one is forcefully reminded, above all else, of the
fragility of human life.
We tend to take for granted that our lives will
continue indefinitely; rarely do we think about how we all – you yourself,
everyone you know, everyone you love or care about – will grow old and, one day,
will die. Through familiarity, we begin to believe the people, places and
situations that surround us to be permanent. It is a natural and human tendency,
and a habit difficult to break – difficult, that is, unless one is confronted
inescapably with the truth of our own mortality. A quiet walk in a cemetery will
accomplish that....
At 63 and with my Dutch heritage
, parents who lived into their upper 90's and aunts and uncles who lived to 99
or the one who still lives at over 100, I am a bit panicked. lol. In
their world they worked where Kodak and Bausch and Lomb actually made good on
their retirements. We'll just leave it at that. The last
time I was in Rochester to visit dad I stopped at Mount Hope Cemetery which has
amazing grave sites. Some headstones are 40 feet high and their are whole
streets of Mausoleums which are creepy and beautiful. I stumbled upon
Frederick Douglas's grave which I had not idea was in Rochester. I found
one that said "Bausch" on it and wondered where Lomb was if this was "The"
Bausch. Low and behold....Lomb's mausoleum was right next to it!
Together in life. Together in death. Same street!
Maybe it was just a
coincidence...
At any rate, so many if not all
of the current COG gurus and goofballs are selling hope. They are doing
what religion is meant to do but I think they do it very badly in their
case. All kidding aside, it is obscene that a Gerald Flurry sees himself
in the Bible as "That Prophet" and then proceeds to stick his theologically
ignorant nose into everyone's business. Ron Weinland, who followed me
after I left Ohio has been the same kind of arrogant and deluded minister since
way back. It just got worse and ended badly. His hope is hopeless
and also ignorant of actual theology as actually presented in the Bible.
And what can we say more of Dave Pack who now epitomizes both theology and title
taking gone nuts. In my world the more one needs titles , the less of a
genuine human being and servant to all one can actually be. Any man who
sees himself spoken of in the Bible in these days is one to be avoided. It
is not so and all 25 proofs aside, Dave is not any Joshua the High Priest of
Haggai nor was HWA any Elijah to come or Zerubbabel. That is just nuts and
over reaching if there ever was any. It would be merely silly if it wasn't
actually dangerous to your spiritual, financial and emotional health.
Gotta go...Doing chair massage
for the employees of a local health food store this morning. If I ever
rubbed any of you the wrong way...or do..come see me now... :)
Let me leave you with my favorite
and to the point short overview of in just what way we are stardust. In my
next life, if there is one, I want to reincarnate as Dr. Neil Degrasse
Tyson. This knowledge in our time bring tears to my eyes and absolute
wonder, far more than anything any minister could ever deliver. Do
yourself a favor and watch two short sermons that are 100% true and deeply
encouraging no matter who you are or where in life you reside along the very
thin line we call the times of our lives.
Certainly better by far
than the long winded and self serving sermons of a Ron Weinland-Dave Pack or
Gerald Flurry. These men are also stardust but currently with excessive
amounts of hot air and baloney mixed in my humble and yet experienced
opinion.
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