Here I am kneeling in front of you in a strange country, in one of those many Churches built with your name tag. Everything was written in German, but from what I’ve gathered, it is an Anglican Church.
Of course it gave me a relief to see a Church that I can go in and light a candle. I found myself praying for my own peace of mind, praying to help me ease my pain, and a peaceful earth.
But, while sitting for a while, taking pictures, It really bothered me that we, as humans, pray for more from the one who ended up teaching so much, yet got crusified. Two thousand years later, your pain and suffering isn’t enough for us, we want more. We still place this mess of a world in your hands.
I believe you did your job, you were a peace warrior, who got misunderstood by the community during that time. How vicious would have they been, to crucify someone who spoke of wisdom and peace. Someone who promoted nothing but love.
It really saddens me!
It terrifies me!
I believe it is no longer in the power of our prayers, but in the power of our actions. This country I am visiting seems a blessed nation, I can see people freely moving around, not too scared of their belongings being stolen. Although I did notice the occasional beggar on the streets, which confused me.
If each of us took action to be kind to one another, our prayers will automatically be answered. I suppose it’s easier said than done. Especially when greed for money, power, status, and aversion towards others who do not agree with one, or who is doing better, and the confusion of all mind objects come in the way. But we can still try. I’m sure we can try, but it needs a majority shift I’m sure, or the flame of love will die!
I’m sorry for bringing more of my burdens to you. Halfway through my prayer, I stopped. I can’t bother you or God anymore. All I can request God is help kind and humble human beings to be stronger than the cruel ones. And lead those cruel to understand humanity.
In my short life, thus far, my own good intentions got misunderstood, or misused plenty of times. The hurt it brought me was enough to break my heart into a million pieces. If petty little me felt such pain, what pain would you have felt to be hanging their on the cross, looking at your mother. What pain would you have felt! What an unbearable pain you must have felt. Would have been a lot more emotional pain than the physical pain of crusification.
After all that pain,
What more do we want from you?
What more do we pray from you?
Are we so powerless not to do something on our own?
– Nim –
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