Self Encounter

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One fine day, off-the-wall, trees blossomed, birds chirped like never before, wind blew bearing the aroma of flowers, the Sky poured out his love through the clouds and the Earth drenched in it, spread her fragrance all throughout. The entire cosmos (except humans) stood in awe on seeing its Creator, Creativity and Animator. Jesus him we call. The True Human.

Following is a conversation between Jesus of Christianity and Jesus of Nazareth. Both meet vis-à-vis. 

(Jesus of Christianity and Jesus of Nazareth is abbreviated as JOC and JON respectively)

JOC: Who are you? Where do you come from?

JON: I am Jesus. Nazareth is my town. And you?

JOC: (Surprised) Alas!! So you are Jesus of Nazareth. I have been yearning to meet you. Hmm…Well I too am Jesus, Jesus of Christianity. I am the product of the dogmatic and doctrinal slumber of your bride, The Church.

JON: Slumber? (perpexled) I thought she had awakened by my life, death and resurrection. (He sobs)

JOC: (with a sarcastic smile) Had she awakened then why aren’t your scars healed young man? Just look at you (he points to him with disgust). This tattered cloak, your wounded feet, your dried up eyes, your voice that seems so sore and hoarse because of overuse, bruises and only bruises all over your body. Eew…Oh Gosh..You smell sheep? What are you? This ridiculous stench…It’s unbearable.

JON: I am a carpenter by profession but a shepherd by choice. So am I not ought to smell sheep? Stench? I thought this was the fragrance of my bride. After all isn’t she my sweat and blood?

JOC: Oh please…Your bride smells so seducing.. The fragrance of incense and expensive perfumes.. There is not a pinch of stench in her.

JON: I strongly dissent. No..You are lying..Where is she? I want to meet her?

JOC: There she is (pointing towards an exquisite and grandeur building). That’s her home. Do you still feel that she is your bride? Look at you, how shabby you are and look at her, how elegant she is.

 JON: (tears rolling down his cheek) Her elegance is at the expense of my life and memory. We met on the street. I fell in love with her. We both were the children of street. Its heart and soul. I spread my arms on the cross to live in and through her. (his voice fumbles) How could she forsake me? Was my Love inefficacious? Abba…. (he cries aloud and with him the entire cosmos)

JOC: (with a deep sigh) I feel sorry for you carpenter. You took flesh by washing away your God ego in the waters of Jordan only to remain thirsty on the cross. You painfully forsook the warmth of the womb that bore you and the sweetness of the breasts that nursed you only to embrace your bride. You left your own family in the search of an extended one. You made beds for others yet you reclined on the bosom of the Earth. Your movement has lost its move. You taught her to love but she kept on hating; you taught her to live but she learnt to survive death. I feel pity my friend….but I am helpless (bowing with his palms on his chest) as I am only an illusion that would vanish when she wakes up.

JON: (wiping his tears and clearing his voice) Just do me a favour my friend. Tell her when she awakens from her slumber that she will find me on the Street where we both fell in love. I’ll be waiting for her with forgiveness.

He then walks away lamenting on his fate to stay an orphan and a vagabond.
The entire cosmos except humans weeps along with him and then regains its resiliency. 

 This Lent let us analyse whose disciples we are. Amen

 Prayers
Dn. Basil Paul

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