Triduum - afterthought 1

Written a year after the Triduum event

The impact of scripture is always caressed by the breath of what was never said; the blending of divine inspiration and human frailties that influenced the inclusion or rejection of stories, thoughts and focused attention. Set aside, for the moment, any arguments about the accuracy of what is written -- how much was changed and enhanced to meet with political or passionate contingencies of the early centuries. Shelf any resentment or awe of how many can preach absolute faith in the written word and human interpretation, while other seek only the wisdom and spiritual messages dancing within the pages -- and both all themselves 'believers'. Accept instead that what we know is only part of the story -- that this Jeshua of simple heritage was alive every instant, every hour. Surly no one would attest that his internal struggle between two Fathers was a sporadic or transitory musing. To the extent that every man and woman hears the rustling of the spirit their daily actions and communication must reflect this passion, if only in denial. Every thought and action is mediated to some degree by this 'awareness, be it in direct choice of action or the reflection of self we provide to others. Would it have been -- is -- any less for Jesus? It is easier perhaps to focus our passion on a select few events and set them as 'stations' of endearment. Where are the notes between the drumbeats? Where are the little jokes with friends and shy smiles at strangers and joyful banter in the market -- and the miracles?

Make a choice! If you side that Christ was always closer to the divine side and incapable of aberrant thought or whimsy, then every interaction with another must have been at least the seed of a miracle. If you instead, lean toward the construct that the 'great story' is enhanced by Christ becoming man, with slivers and colds and sunburn and all -- and is the grander for it -- then what would have been the impact of the simple observances and awe at life itself? Where is the story of the invasive aroma from the hidden kitchen? Where is the parable about children at play? Where are the observations about the tension between the invaders and the conquered minions -- certainly enhanced during Passover and memories of rebellion? Where are the simple miracles each of us encounters every day? I think those stories were there -- told by quiet campfires and boring journeys on dusty rutted roads. I know that these existed and perhaps still do today. Who decided which to include and which were unimportant? Of these I will write -- just because I can.