Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts

Thursday, 2 October 2014

For Esdras

Q. What about those poor folk whose life is so limited that they cannot possibly benefit from it?

A1. You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs.
A2. Processes sometimes have unavoidable waste- or side-products.
A3. God’s justice will certainly prevail; even if we can’t see how at present.
A4. Perhaps some souls are reincarnated.
A5. Perhaps some homo-sapiens are not full human beings, but only un-inspirited shells.

Esdras asked the angel: “Why does God allow such waste?
It seems to me that there are many birthed – or die before they’re born –
who have no joy of life and insufficient chance to learn
what’s good and bad. I mean the congenitally insane,
the destitute who starve, those formed without a brain;
those subject to atrocities which scarred their soul,
unable to entertain hope and never to be whole.”

The angel replied to Esdras: “This is a mystery, I know;
but here are certain clues. First: in this world of base matter,
the begetting of a diamond is part of a much greater scope
which, though it yields barren clinker.
is necessary if that best bright crystal and celestial star
is to be made, as sacrament of sure terrestrial hope.

Second: as God is good the Heavens must grant
to every sentient being the fullest chance of grace
(afforded well by overflowing might exuberant)
sufficient to come safe home by their final pace;
for else a cruel tyrant God would surely be,
and that is not the aspect of those Persons Three
who are Creator and Redeemer of this place.
This means that every soul that’s blessed with consciousness
must have a life that’s apt and adequate for its full education.
Hence if a person’s lotted span and quality of days
does not fulfil this goal, they must be giv’n a supplementary term.
The fact that when they’re reborn they have no recall
of their past life, tells clearly that it was of no account at all.

There is a final possibility: that some who tread the boards
of this narrow and fragile stage are not quite what they seem to be;
but only bit parts in the play. Their outward form affords
a disguise of behaviour; but being mere androids, they
aren’t proper men who know and understand and see.
So many folk seem fake: paper people, folded origami.
Perhaps this seeming is reality and each is a mere zombie:
undead rather than living – souls without a spark.
Such cyphers have no need for any lasting fame;
but can, without complaint, pass on into the dark.
Being devoid of a conscious flame;
their only purpose is to be the context and the frame
for those fair spirit gems which are God’s final aim.

Job's Complaint

Q1. Why doesn’t God prevent natural disasters?
Q2. We don’t seem to have anything to learn from “Acts of God”!

A1.F or all we know God regularly intervenes to prevent and mitigate natural disasters. How can we know what God averted given that it was averted? If God preserved ignorant human beings from natural disasters the foundation of “moral hazard” would be undermined.The end in view is of such great value that it justifies the necessary means, the down-side of which pales into insignificance once the final outcome is grasped.
A2. If God averted all natural disasters this would amount to subverting the very basis of Physical Law which holds the whole world in being. Although this would be possible it would make the world fundamentally irrational and at the best very difficult for human beings to “do science”. In deed it might very well entirely demotivate them from this enterprise.

The voice of Job cries out to Heaven: “What have I done?
There’s no just cause for all my liability
to suffer earthquake, hurricane and techtonic eruption.
Why must my best laid plans all end up in futility?
I’m plagued and starved and threatened by corruption
and after my set time by prospect of senility!”


The voice of God replies to Job: “Mark well these words my son,
you’ve no just case against me.
For you have no idea what I’ve already done
for all my folk who live beneath the rainbow gay
which is my favour’s pledge to all humanity.
Your notion of what by physic’s law must come
is based on what you see from day to day
but this is full of my preventive action
how will you then renormalise my grace away?
If I were reticent in giving benediction
the state of things would be much more awry!”



Now Job retorts, in flaming woe: “It would be hard to bear
if only sinners came to such calamity,
but often it’s the just and kind who suffer
this seems to me a great profanity!
You exploit the innocent for sport.
Not content with their servility,
You love to see their red blood spurt.
Delighting in their vulnerability
you shoot your barbs, and cut their sad lives short!”



God makes response, with kindly sense: “But pain and death are not as bad
as they may seem; for there’s a life beyond the grave.
I take no pleasure in what makes you sad
it is my will to prosper you and save
you from all ill. I have no need
for entertainment of that kind
or any other! I want you to succeed
and in this wondrous world to find
much joy! My business is for you to learn
to tell what’s good from what is not,
and my unfeigned respect to earn.
Moral hazard’s necessary if your sort
is ever to exceed what’s natural
and so be worthy of the Life Eternal.”



But Job is not remotely satisfied and shouts: “You say that we
must learn to tell what’s right from wrong
by finding out the upshot of our agency;
but the actions of which my feeble tongue
makes its sincere complaint are Thine,
O God inscrutable –not mine!

What am I supposed to learn from them?
It seems, at best, that You don’t care;
for if You did, You’d intervene
to stop them taking effect where
the innocent would elsewise suffer –
if You were at all just and fair.”



God answers Job, most patiently: “An option’s risk being understood,
if you take it, then that’s your doom!
Choose active fault line as your neighbourhood,
or else the shadow of volcanic cone,
or plateau scoured often by tornadoes,
or shore which tzunamis frequent;
than you must accept all of those
outcomes which flow – or else repent.

The evils of which you make moan
are not my acts intentional
but certain and most sure outcome
of Cosmic rule conventional
which solid holds the World as one.

I must not subsidise your folly
for then you could not learn.
The preservation of your autonomy
(which is a great and glorious good )
requires that I am resolute and stern.
This of my business is foundational
though repent of it I now would;
were making Man divine not my whole goal.”



A final point, Job pleads with God: “You should at least the ignorant show pity
averting dangers of which they don’t know.
If they are unaware that their fair city
sits on a crack that’s fit to make it rock and roll,
or have no clue their scenic mount
is filled with magma, and so soon
with pumice and with flame will fount
and like a lanced carbuncle spume;
then You should reign back every law
for they're secure only as far
as You allow. You’re able to act for
the innocent, if for them You do care –
as You claimed when challenged, after
Your first supper, with your dear friend, before
the fiery doom on Sodom and sad Gomorrah
was cast down. Then the innocent You saw
and You did a good while forebear!”



God then replies from the gyre of His grace: “If the volcano’s blast ne’er hurt
those who knew not its power to harm,
and I always shielded the ignorant,
this would discourage the naïve to learn.

Ish and Ishsha were secured in Eden
by My strict pedagoguey of their innocence
but to explore beyond that narrow glen
they had to taste experience.

If things were not how they are now,
you’d have no reason truth to know.
The more that you came to see how
things work, and did in wisdom grow;
grasping the designs of the world:
the less you would be able to rely
on my sure aid, as being curled
up in my gentle arms, safely.

No sooner than you realised this fact
you’d seek out that knowledge no more
which your first paradisial state had lacked;
but rather your naïvety you would try to restore!

This would undo human autonomy
and worthy self-respect
and its an outcome which I hope you’ll see
I rightly do reject.”

Sunday, 21 September 2014

Heaven and Hell

Why do we have to learn about good and evil in this life?
What use is this knowledge in the next life?
If there is no evil in Heaven why do we need to know about it at all?

In the future we will live together
(and with mighty God) for ever.
Now, God is fire, and “Hell is other folk”
(a truth that once a cynic spoke)
so we must learn to be most careful
if we’re to prosper in that state eternal.
Heaven and Hell are the same country:
both are God’s proximity. Whether we
are damned or blessed depends on our soul’s state.
A feast is set, but will we fight
over it’s spread – or each other fète, and so full sate
our hunger for what’s best? A hearth is stoked, but will its heat
for us be vital energy or else vile enthalpy our souls to sublimate?

The desert bush was not consumed
by God’s self revelation.
The Jewish threesome stood secure and sound
within the conflagration
which was lit by whim
of Persian King’s decree; for they
were tended by the seraphim
with flaming wings: angelic serpent fey.
The lake of sulphurous flame of which we’re told
can be the purging fire of the divine Eros
– which smelts the slag of sin from spiritual gold –
or else the doom of souls that are no more than dross.
In this world we are remote from God’s fierce heat,
and can train ourselves by stubborn perseverance
in works of love, until we’re holy and complete
and ready to endure for endless days God’s countenance.





Answering Epicurus

Doesn’t the existence of suffering in the world make it irrational to believe in God?

“If God is just and of great might then why does pain abound?
It seems that either God does nothing care, and so cannot be kind;
or else that God cannot save us, and so cannot be powerful.
So if you insist that God is good and omnipotent, if God be real at all;
then God cannot be real: for suffering is certain sure enough!
Nature’s red in tooth and claw, and merely to survive is tough!
Unanswered, Abel’s blood to heaven does clearly call!”

The Hindu says that suffering is always well deserved.
Those who seem innocent are guilty nonetheless.
Karma’s been accrued by them in a life previous.
The evil they did do before has been conserved
and justice now its sure revenge is taking
Each victim is their own atonement making,
for sins committed in the past they’re paying.

The Buddha tells us suffering’s not real, but a delusion:
attachment to the things of matter causes us confusion.
The soul must be freed from physical encumbrance,
and rise above the realm of pain and find its peace
in merging selflessly and wholly with the One
by meditation, and ceaselessly repeating “Om”.

The Deist tells us that God’s justice is remote.
For after all, we’re tiny things, of little note.
God observes the world from a great distance,
caring nothing for our plight.
For though God’s great, He looks at us askance.
He has no empathy with our life’s fight
’gainst suffering, decay and faction:
our pain is not a worthy motive for God’s action.

The Gnostic claims the Cosmos is imperfect.
The World was neither God’s intent nor act.
God is omnipotent, and just and whole;
but the Creator was incompetent in craft.
The Universe is flawed, but this is not God’s fault.
It never was God’s business, its making not His goal.
The Cosmos cannot be redeemed. Matter is sick at heart;
but freedom can be won, by means occult,
for spirits in it trapped, who thence for Heaven depart.

Calvin says that our idea of good is not correct.
God rightly gives us pain: for we deserve no better!
If God elects to help, His power can this effect:
for nothing may God’s sovereign will impede or fetter;
but being ill, we have no right this to expect,
and if God damns us, we may not object. 

Satan says that God’s not just, but is a monster.
His entertainment lies in causing us to suffer.
There is no good or ill; but only power,
and those who are afraid to exercise their share.
In order to survive, you have to fight and strive.
Don’t look for any help. You’re on your own.
Learn that you can only live and thrive
at the expense of those you’ve battered down.

The wise believe that suff’ring has a purpose.
Our business in this world is for ourselves to learn
the difference between what’s wrong and right:
to ready ourselves for being with each other
and with the tri-une living God for ever.
As yet, we are from God’s great flaming disk,
remote: and may awhile prepare ourselves to bask
in God’s most searing, bright and fearsome light.

Tuesday, 12 February 2013

Laughter

You laugh and my gut churns. 
I cringe before your mockery.
Your ridicule cuts deep, 
severing the bonds of breath and life.
Your careless disrespect is more than I can bear.
I desire your love: the bloody business of your heart
but all you care to offer me is bile.
I need your affirmation and regard
but you would rather me revile.

Satan laughs and darkness churns,
the world lies in dismay.
His despite rings through all the halls of men;
greed and hate and soft conceit:
the comedy of error and of ill
which he does pen and close direct,
with force of iron will.
This vale of tears for us is his dire cauldron vast,
where he does compound fell
and noisome brews, his pain to sooth at last.

God laughs at the plight of men:
the sorrow and betrayal,
the sickness and the pain,
the hardships and travail.
God laughs, not with mirth, but from sympathy:
not that God can know our woe
in His Eternal Being;
but that He’s ever present in our sorrow
and absurdity.
In that laugh God exceeds Himself
and falls for man from Heaven to Earth,
becoming one with us
and taking up the very comic role
which you and I and all our kin play out
and that had first brought forth His laugh.

We laugh and hate is spent
error and pain are overcome.
The wounds we have inflicted close
and healing can begin.
Now grappling can become a form of play,
not strife,
and all our wanton ways
be shown in purest light.
Laughter frees us from our sin
and all that locks us in,
binding us with false wisdom
and denying our necessary freedom.

I laugh and the whole Universe stands still,
the absurdity of life bounds forth
and will not rest until its sympathetic force
is spent. Empathy moves my bowels.
My heart is pulled towards the trials
and sufferings of my fellow men. Perforce,
I must else laugh or yet weep copious tears
of bitter, stinging woe: so I do choose to laugh.

Angelic Confusion

The Angels asked their Father God,
why gave He them a will so bold:
to choose glad life and death between:
the fire of Hell and light of Heaven.
Confused, they pondered it were best
that they had been constrainèd fast,
and held to good and wholesome life;
protected from the pains of strife
as clockwork watch is surely bound
to tell the time when wound.

For choice implies the bane of ill,
and ignorant mistake and fall,
and pain and mis’ry tightly held
(for comfort’s sake, if truth be told)
and none of all the host would dare
(not out of fear nor want of care)
assert their certain sight of right
(for all their power and all their might)
beyond a thirst and hunger barbed
that’s not so soon denied.
Better, ’twould seem to have at heart
an instinct: knowledge to impart;
to speak and powerfully direct
the will to all that’s just and right,
and ’gainst all choices curst and wrong.
Then joys would surely ’bout them throng
and sin ne’re mar the spirit bold
but all would be in concord held
by fearsome chains and fastest bond
of tutelage so fond.

“But there’s the snag, my fiery folk,”
their Heavenly Father gently spoke.
“If I held fast your wills by might
(as is my power and is my right)
what space would be for you to know
for your own selves; to see and show,
by trial dire, the right and wrong
of life: to feel within so strong
its pains and pleasures oh so dear
its clarion call so clear?”

“All you would know was slavery
arrayed in shrouds, most drear and grey.
Autonomy would ne’re be yours:
automatons you’d be, wills fixed by laws.
No proper understanding you would have
of woeful hate or wealthy love,
the cost or prize of selfish action
the bliss of righteous satisfaction:
never sound merit to accrue
nor joy of knowledge true.”

“And so, instead, I set you free
and take the cost and pain to me
Creator and Saviour, both Am I:
no callous clocksmith deity.”

“Else trust my word, heed what I say
and learn yourself the righteous way
or shun that path and take your own
though it be sad and makes you moan.
You can have life or death, you know:
choose life, I urge you now!”i
i“I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse; therefore choose life, that you and your descendants may live.” [Deut 30:19 RSV]

Wednesday, 8 August 2012

Shadowlands

Before my eyes there leap and leer
appearences of sences five
they fill my mind, seduce my soul
and claim to be the truth.
Yet in my heart I hear the call
of spirit voices, far away,
that tell of objects far more real
and solid sound and permanent
than any things of which I think I know
or love or cherish or desire.

And so I turn, from dark cave’s wall
where on projected shaddows grey cavort;
I turn my back on life and seek out death:
not in despair and not as bane,
but as the portal to a life beyond
of so much being and subtlety
that it shall trump this petty world
of sense and sensibility
of joys and pleasures gay
of daliance and sweet delight
of pain and loss and suffering.

For in that place of gladsome light,
where Beauty’s seen direct,
(not in the images of fleeting things,
but in its ideal form sublime)
there is such joy and peace
that every soul enlightened
then can taste the Bread of Life
the provinder of Wisdom’s board.
They sit down full supplied
their friend is Immortality
thence they are well content.

Symposium

Socrates stands silent, without the house.
He sways to and fro;
though there is no breeze.
His daemon speaks,
in words of tantalising uncertainty;
warning of danger, urging on with cue.


Within, the revellers laugh,
intent to entertain
themselves with wine and song and jest.
They miss his presence,
await his profile at the door.
Hopeful of his words, yet fearful too.


The seer breaks his pose;
returning to this world of doubt.
Regaining his will and purpose,
he looks about.
He shrugs and enters into its flimsy reality.
It is most unsatisfactory,
but will have to do.


His eyes peer into shadows
which lie all about him.
They reveal their remote origins
to his mind
as they obscure their immediate
intentions from his eyes.
He knows at last his will,
with doubt he’s through.


He wishes to advance;
move forward in this place;
join his friends within;
enjoy their fellowship.
He wishes much more.
To pass beyond this place
to enter into a richness
which few subdue.


Socrates bows his head
and enters the festive hall.
His presence fills the room,
the party song falls silent.
Let us speak of love,
dear friends, he says.
Let us praise the source
of all life new.


Account is made of Eros, ancient of days;
wisest and most beneficent,
yet maddener of men;
neither spirit nor matter
– but interlocutor between –
carrying precious gifts
reconciliation to pursue.


Socrates is silent. Then he frowns
and shakes his head.
What truth was spoke
was not spoke true enough;
weighed down by quest for earthly ease.
Such phantasms, he knows,
he must eschew.
He recalls an aged seeress,
Diotima she was named.
She once instructed him in love;
when he was young
and brash and wilful
and fully self-assured.
She cut him down a peg:
her words he will review.


Love is desire for beauty
with good outcome;
life leading to life and on to eternity.
Beauty is next to Good,
and supplies the defect
of sight to restore
what wisdom once knew.


The end of love is fellowship of being;
union with the source of life and hope,
attainment of clear sight
and understanding
sure knowledge of beauty
and justice true.


All love and beauty
in this world is perilous;
an intimation of
what lies beyond the veil,
an incentive to kindness
and spur to courage
but also a nagging distraction
from these two.


Then in storms Alcibiades,
apple of the sage’s eye;
yet rotten to the core.
Traitor both to tutor and to State.
Sure of himself, overflowing with hubris,
ravishing in countenance and thew.


He berates his erstwhile lover,
speaking of deceit,
how he promised much, but gave nothing;
not tenderness, nor comfort of embrace,
but by cultured neglect all passion slew.


He accuses the silent Socrates
of inhumanity,
of spiritual conceit and direst pride
being impossible to live with or without:
his friendship he does most sorely rue!


A tear wells in the seer’s face;
but he turns away
from what he has loved,
and always will love,
in this world: knowing that the warning,
once heard, he can never misconstrue.


This spoiled man, he knows,
exemplifies full well
(but without spark of intent
or glimmer of awareness)
the power of love to pervert and corrupt,
when divorced from its object due.