.
.
.
.
.
. Years ago when one was in parochial school, we were required to attend mass, in the church, every day before classes. As a youngster, kneeling in church as the requisite rules called for, i remember thinking: “God is not here (locked up for us to visit), God is outdoors among nature and the good, great outdoors.” I remember feeling like being in prison… but i realized that, some day, i would get out. Later, while in college (and away from home), i purchased a rock music album that happened to have lyrics that really “hit home” with me. The album was entitled “Aqualung”… and the second half of the album contained lyrics helping one to question orthodox perspectives about spirituality and, instead, think (and discover) for oneself. This album, among others, was integral for me regarding my independent search within the realm of the spiritual/philosophical. That search became far more important to me than girlfriends, far more important than having a good time, competing in the job market, or being admired by others in the social realm. I am very appreciative of that album and others like it. I feel that my writings and photos (and especially my book) attest to the fact that independent inquiry (including intelligent doubting and searching) is not only worthwhile… but very noble, fruitful, and magnificent. (Of course, one may be all wrong about this… and may still be primarily just a fool.) 😉
***************************
Later in life, it was a pleasant surprise to discover that the historical Jesus himself seemed to not be in favor of — as my book is indicative of — orthodoxy, temples, and the priests within. It was the high priests, the Sanhedrin (in their fancy robes), that accused him of things and arranged to have him killed by the Romans. After the death of the historical Christ, there were many gospels and versions of gospels that many people could choose from. Ironically, it was high priests that eventually chose the ones they wanted people to adhere to; they (like they did to the historical Jesus) arranged to have those that cherished other versions… to be terminated and destroyed. Likewise their (banned) bibles were destroyed and discarded.
Many of the top biblical scholars of today acknowledge that the ancient Gospel of Thomas — discovered by a peasant in 1945 in an earthenware jug, (and also in Greek fragments in an ancient dump heap) — was very likely existent before the Gospels of Mark, Luke, Matthew, and John. The apostles did not, it is well known, write the four orthodox gospels. The gospels called Luke and Matthew copied Mark; some scholars contend that John is a rebuttal against the Gospel of Thomas.
from the ancient Gospel of Thomas:
Jesus said, “Why have you come out to the countryside? To see a reed shaken by the wind? And to see a person dressed in soft clothes, [like your] rulers and your powerful ones? They are dressed in soft clothes, and they cannot understand truth.”
From the Gosp. of Thomas, Greek dump heap POxy 1 fragment:
[Jesus says], “Where there are [three, they are without] God, and where there is only [one], I say, I am with that one. Lift up the stone, and you will find me there. Split a piece of wood, and I am there.”
Lyrics from the song Wind Up… from the Aqualung album by Jethro Tull:
“Wind-Up”
and taught me how not to play the game,
I didn’t mind if they groomed me for success,
or if they said that I was a fool.
So I left there in the morning
with their God tucked underneath my arm —
their half-assed smiles and the book of rules.
So I asked this God a question
and by way of firm reply,
He said — I’m not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
before I’m through, I’d like to say my prayers:
I don’t believe you,
you had the whole damn thing all wrong —
He’s not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
How do you dare tell me that I’m my Father’s son
I’d rather look around me — compose a better song
`cos that’s the honest measure of my worth.
In your pomp and all your glory you’re a poorer man than me,
as you lick the boots of death born out of fear.
I don’t believe you,
you had the whole damn thing all wrong —
He’s not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
A dancer to another tune… Blue-fronted Dancer Damselfly… photo by Thomas Peace 2014
Tom's Nature-up-close Photography and Mindfulness Blog 