Many things are running through my mind. These many things, at least in the manner of my thought processing, are probably better stated as many themes. Some of them are recurring themes. Some are slightly new - or at least as new as anything in this world can really be, though mostly on a subjective perspective. Objectively, they are as old as time, and consider the heart of its value. The argument over 'time is money, and money is time' is one that will remain with us until the end of time, when the unfathomable depths of eternity will be opened to us, and that final choice of our ultimate destiny will lay before us. Until then, we have to deal with time, and what value we place on it.
What is it that has my thoughts churning? It is from a short meeting. Very short, really, but long enough. As the main person who spoke told me, the question of 'What?' is not as important as the question of 'why?'
Why did I meet with them?
To learn something about them, to get an idea on what they are all about, even to answer my most basic question:
Why me?
That question, I didn't get fully answered, but I got a sense about some of the elements involved - just enough to remain curious, but not to gain a full understanding of what it is that they are seeking, even calling me out for. But yet, isn't that the start of any grand adventure? But, still, why me?
On the other hand, why not me?
There is a part of me that considers my spiritual author mentor of sorts in J.R.R. Tolkien. He is to me what Virgil is to Dante. Obviously not a contemporary in the sense that I could call him up, text him, or otherwise contact him as we do today with physical friends and family when we have questions or concerns, but rather in that aspect more like when petitioning a Saint to pray for us, and the reverence due to their walking the path before us, and granting an example - to be a spiritual guide along the way. Well, Tolkien is, in as much as I give of time to recall him, and reflect on his literary works and life biography, in that sort of literary devotion do I find some guidance. But, again, that is in as much as I give the time for doing so. Time, therefore, is an important theme for this reflection, and time is what I need to work harder on managing, especially to get to the things, those true desires that underlay our day to day, and even often hide from us when we let situations and circumstances in time cover these true and genuine desires of our souls.
If anything, the 'Why?' is important, not so much as a matter of figuring it all out, but at least in the formation of purpose in life.
Ultimately, even objectively, the question of "Why do I live?" is simple. I live because of God. Without God, there is no life. As much as I may revere Tolkien as my spiritual literary mentor, a portion of that is because he was one of the great Catholic authors of the Twentieth century - a century from which I was born in the late quarter of. As it is, Tolkien died before I was born, but what he lived, what he wrote, influenced a great deal of my own generation. This influence was so great that, in my youngest acknolwedgments of Tolkien's influence over me and my generation, I can remember the old 1977 animated version of The Hobbit directed by Jules Bass and Arthur Rankin Jr. of the screen adaptation written by Romeo Muller. For many my age and older, this version is a classic, and we compare this adaptation to the current trilogy of films directed by Peter Jackson, with Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Guillermo del Toro, as well as Peter Jackson holding screenplay attributions. Between the two, we have the divide of the old and new of our current modern age. But, one thing's for certain, none of these screenwriters, nor these directors, would have the movies they've made, for both The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings without Tolkien first writing the novels. No one would know of Bilbo Baggins or Frodo without Tolkien writing them into existence, and starting them on their respective journeys. Yet, Tolkien himself knew, and this was at the very heart of his notion of co-creation, that he, Tolkien himself, would not have existed to write these stories without God having first created him into existence.
I cannot reiterate enough the importance of the first chapter of St. John's Gospel in my own formulation of the importance of first principles. Next to Genesis, there is no other book of origins that can compare. And this was not done by accident, for the Gospel itself was written to begin the origins of the Word, and connect that universal theme and reality of God, or, as the first part of the Gospel states:
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by Him: and without Him was made nothing that was made. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it." (John 1: 1-5, Douay-Rheims translation)
These first five verses of St. John's Gospel sum up the beginning of the Torah: the Pentateuch - that is, the first five books of the Old Testament of the Bible, which themselves hold the heart of the Law, which itself is Torah. They recall back to the first five verses of Genesis itself:
"In the beginning God created heaven, and earth. And the earth was void and empty, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the spirit of God moved over the waters. And God said: Be light made. And light was made. And God saw the light that it was good; and he divided the light from the darkness. And he called the light Day, and the darkness Night; and there was evening and morning one day." (Genesis 1: 1-5, Douay-Rheims translation)
One can find many parallels even with the end of St. John's Gospel with that of the end of Genesis. On the basic context, mourning the death of Jacob can be related to the morning of Christ's death by the apostles. The sons of Jacob were afraid after the death of their father, as the apostles, too were afraid after the death of Jesus, the Son of the Father. Joseph, being a Christ-like figure, or type, forgives his brothers their transgressions against him in similar manner that Jesus would forgive St. Peter for denying our him, our Lord. The Patriarch Joseph's words to his brothers sum up the message of the Covenant of God, old and new:
"Fear not: can we resist the will of God? You thought evil against me: but God turned it into good, that he might exalt me, as at present you see, and might save many people. Fear not: I will feed you and your children." (Genesis 50: 19 - 20)
One can compare this to Christ's words to St. Peter, wherein he asked Peter thrice if he loved him, and after each answer, Jesus said, "Feed my lambs," twice, and the third time, "Feed my sheep" (John 21: 15 - 17). In telling Peter the evil that would come upon him, as well as the good of his martyrdom, Christ said, "Amen, amen I say to thee, when thou wast younger, thou didst gird thyself, and didst walk where thou wouldst. But when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and lead thee whither thou wouldst not" (John 21: 18). Still, he calls Peter, saying, "Follow me" (John 21: 19). In a similar manner, the Patriarch Joseph told his brethren, "God will visit you after my death, and will make you go up out of this land, to the land which he swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob" (Genesis 50: 23), and further reiterated his wishes, "God will visit you, carry my bones with you out of this place" (Genesis 50: 24). In both instances, of Joseph's wish after his death, and what Jesus tells Peter of his death, is the call of God in gathering His people into His land of first the physical Jerusalem and the eternal rest in the New Jerusalem for which the Old Testament foreshadows and the New Testament enlightens.
But, as interesting as these parallels and typologies are, the main point is that God is in control, even when we are not. He is the author of our lives, and He weaves a wonderful story, and grants for us in this life a great adventure, if we have the courage to go out there, cast our nets, so to speak, and see what we find. Sometimes we need guidance, be it spiritual direction or otherwise. And so, that is where my journey is at in its current point in time. From Matthew Kelley's book Resisting Happiness, I'm considering what he wrote about the difference between the pilgrim and the tourist, where the tourist tends towards demanding things go his or her way, and the pilgrim considers the obstacles they confront on the journey in reflection of the question of what God's will may be choosing for their direction on the course of life. It's a difficult sort of balancing act, but it is the most important one to act upon and keep in balance in life, especially when the world starts tugging, and you have to discern whether such things are for the good of God and what He wants in your life, and where it may just be a matter of one's own desires and demands. But, as Thomas of Celano made note of regarding St. Francis of Assisi, "Francis would not suddenly become perfect, but he was to pass gradually from the flesh to the spirit." Indeed, none of us are perfect. God does not call for us to be perfect immediately, but He does have His ways of calling us out from our imperfections on a road to perdition in order to guide us toward that Beatific perfection and vision that leads one onto the road to eternal bliss.
In my own writing, I try to recall these things in the prologue to Harmakhis. The story takes place on Mars, in a long ago, long forgotten age, but an age not too dissimilar from our own modern age. The technology on Mars, in the story, is more advanced, as they have learned how to use a teleport system for travel. However, the society is similar to the modernist society, having grown old and in decay, particularly in a certain cynicism that leads to agnosticism and atheism. Yet, there are still those out there that continue the memory of the ancient heroes of renown and long for that rejuvenating spirit of the Creator. Unfortunately, the Martian world has grown too old and is dying. The planet itself is dying, and soon a pilgrimage must take place to a new world, which would eventually prepare the way for the new world on Earth. However, that brave new world is not the focus of the trilogy of books I'm trying to write. Rather, the focus is on The Fall, as it were. An ancient enemy will come, disguised as a savior, but what he claims for eternal life is a farce. It does not lead to eternal life, nor to freedom. Instead, it is an enslavement. Sure, the people that are under control of the enemy seem to have a longevity of life, but it is from an ancient and abominable technology that preserves life in the temporal beyond its natural course. This is not to say that things like assisted living are wrong, and certainly is not a case for euthanasia, but rather that we all eventually are called to our eternal rest, and there is a natural process that can bear the fruits of a truly happy death. Thus, the point is that the technology bends the limits, and eventually distorts reality. The most ancient of the enemy have essentially gone mad, or at least have long lost touch with their humanity, or that sense of identity that was of their first principalities. They long to keep power and, as the world is once more in decay, the evil ones see one last time to fulfill their diabolical desires of conquering the world of Mars that they inhabit. Underlying this is the inversion to God's calling, to whom, of course the Creator is to be God who is calling, and the enemy the one that seeks not God's call, but to create the world, even the universe in his own fallen image. Those that are of the squadron of Justice eventually learn of this, and the great sorrow of finding out that it is too late to save this world of Mars is only somewhat satiated in knowing that they are called by the Creator to initiate the Great Pilgrimage that would act as this story's Noah's Ark, in a sense, and present a new hope on a new planet - Earth. The beginning of that Great Pilgrimage will be the end of the trilogy, which is still in the queue of the first drafting.
In pause of writing this to go to Mass, it is interesting that the priest spoke on the journey, on the pilgrimage. A recurring theme, then, that ought not be turned away from. For likewise did this meeting I had earlier in the day follow in that same manner. So the prevailing question is:
What is my journey? What am I being called forth to do?
Yes, I know, the Mass doesn't speak directly to me, and that this call is to be taken up by all the faithful. But, that does not deny what personal calling lay inside - where the objective call to all also has its particular subjective call to each and all of us on our individual walk in life. The difference in the subjective is in how we respond, even if we respond. Though, to some extent, not responding is its own response, though certainly not the best one. Our life is a journey, and, again, we can choose to be the pilgrim, open to what may be God's will, or we can be the tourist that demands for his own will be done, that his plans go as he wants them, regardless what is willed by He, the Father to us all, even when knowing that He has the greater plan for us.
On this, I reflect on cowardice, and in particular, that which in Dante's 'Inferno' is expressed in lines 121 - 126 stated as the words of Virgil:
"Dunque che è? perchè, perchè ristai?
perchè tanta viltà nel core allette?
perchè ardire e franchezza non hai,
poscia che tai tre Donne benedette
curan di te nella corte del Cielo,
e il mio parlar tanto ben t’ impromette?”
Virgil asks of Dante, "What is it then? Why, do you hold back? Why? Why let such cowardly fear into your heart? Why, when three such blessed ladies, in the courts of heaven, care for you, and my words promise you so much good, are you not free and ardent?"
You may ask of yourself, if it not enough that God Himself, seeks your eternal care? But then, let us not forget that such eternal care is commissioned out as well. The angels, the Saints, even friends, family, sometimes even one's foe, are all looking out for you, whether you like it or not. Certainly, the foe, it would appear, has it in for you with his or her looking out for you. Whether or not that perception is true, or that the enemy is really seeking your good in a way that may not be good, or it is not apparent what that good might be, the adversity, for better or for worse, at least challenges one to reflect on what really is good, what really is important in one's life. But we may fear the challenge, and fall prey to the greater enemy than he or she whom we may consider our enemy in the flesh. For as St. Paul reminds, "[O]ur wrestling is not against flesh and blood; but against principalities and power, against the rulers of the world of this darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places" (Ephesians 6: 12).
Dante does not simply stop and smell the roses in the next few lines after Virgil's questions, but rather gives a metaphor for courage, where, rather than be overcome and froze up by something chilling and horrific, to welcome the challenge and face it with an open and warm heart that is freed from the bonds of fear. But further, as Dante states in line 138, "tornato nel primo proposto."
That is at the heart of any pilgrimage or challenge in life, to turn back to that first principle, to find what you first began to seek from the beginning. And, as St. John reminds in the Gospel, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."
Sometimes we need guides to help get us back on track. As Dante says to his own spiritual and literary guide in Virgil, so too, I say:
"Or va’, chè un sol volere è d’ ambedue;
tu Duca, tu Signore e tu Maestro!" (139 - 140)
That is to say, "Go now, for the two of us have but one will - you guide, you lord, you master!"
Now, let us step forth into that deep, shadowy forest, and find our way through the great journey!
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