Search This Blog

Thursday, September 16, 2010

With Osiris On Our Side

When I was a young boy I took my first communion. Being from a Catholic family, I was brought up to believe in the Christian God and His son who is also God and the ethereal presence known as the Holy Ghost who also happens to be God.

The idea of the Trinity was a perplexing one. My young mind had difficulty hammering out the logistics of it all.

Moreso - the idea of the brutal and bloody sacrifice of a deity was a wretched one -the idea of immaculate conception was an intriguing one -the idea of Noah and his arc was a ridiculous one -the idea of Moses destroying the cow-worshiping Jews who followed him to Mount Sinai was a frightening one -and the idea of going to church in order to sit/stand/kneel while surrounded by a citadel of stained glass depicting the Crucifixion and Resurrection was a tedious one.

I was taught to believe in priests and popes and churches and sin. I was taught that the benevolent creator of the universe was watching. And when I committed sin, I injured God.

As a child, being properly taught to fear an entity who had nearly destroyed all of humanity through flood (along with many rogue factions of Adam's descendants through organized warfare and genocide -- sucks to be a Canaanite), I decided that when it was time to engage in my first act of confession -- I would come clean.

The sins of an entire decade on earth went something as follows:

Sometimes I don't listen to my mom and dad. Sometimes I say bad words - like shit and goddamn (I remember actually saying them). Sometimes I get mad and fight with my sisters. One time I stole something from the store. And one time I told God that I hated him.

I was told to say a certain number of Hail Mary's (I think it was thirty -but I wouldn't bet) and to listen to my parents and to stop fighting with my sisters and to stop taking things that don't belong to me.

Here's your receipt. Come again.

As I got older, our mandatory Sunday service became less and less frequent. I'd like to think that my mother and father found it as dull and uninspiring as I did. More likely, they were too busy and too tired raising three kids while working full-time and keeping afloat during the bum years of the early 80's.

Either way, I'm glad that we finally limited our church visits to the obligatory Thanksgiving mass when my very Catholic grandmother would visit from Virginia. Maybe we'd go on Christmas eve. During high school - almost never.

Now - only when a niece gets baptized or goes through the same Communion process as the rest of the fold.

I never eat the bread. Even though I could. Technically.

Yet I still believe in a spiritual force, or sublime system, or transcendent ocean of consciousness called "god". I still hold to a strong moral code. And when I meditate at night just before drifting off into the ether, I know such lovely pictures!

Men who credit God for their greatness, from my point of view, have it all wrong. They are great only because they are themselves the subjective expression of that which we call God.

That force, that unified field of consciousness, is filtered through the human body and manifests as individual perception. But separateness is an illusion of the bio-mechanical body suit which we wear. Our three-dimensional experiences and observations of reality are limited to the mechanical possibilities and limitations of the human mind. There is much more to perceive than we are capable of perceiving.

If I am wrong -- then I hope the answer is reincarnation. I want to come back as an Egyptian Pharaoh. Or Henry David Thoreau.

"All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
and to die is different from what any one supposed. And luckier."
~Walt Whitman


  1. I will come back as a happier Sylvia Plath. The end.

  2. Very well put. I think of our senses as being protective shields from a reality we could not survive because of our sense of separateness. In my more speculative moments, I imagine death to be something like the babe's experience in being born and our lives as being a period of gestation. Hope I've made some sense. Thanks for another good read!

  3. Sometimes I feel as though I am in a perpetual state of gestation.