On the Wings of Hope : Prose

Whom do you appeal to in shouts heartrending, prayers mournful performing ? Whom do you pray to, like idols bashing with heads of yours painted boards, called as icons ? Whose flame do you aspire to support, lighting candles in temples of yours ? Whether can you explain, why the silvered water you have started to call sacred ? For a long time already have you forgotten the true essence and meaning, and only the ritual form remained, dead as dead.

Do you think, really, that by selling the God you serve Him still ? Oh, not Him, not anymore.

No one gave you the right to pardon errors of human beings, sins releasing back home into a distances unknown by waving those censers of yours. It’s you who have this right misappropriated, having holy texts deformed centuries ago.

No one gave you the right to speak on behalf of God to commoners, who trusted you. On behalf of your own can you only do that – but will words of yours will cost much that way around ?

No one gave you the right to trade portraits of Highest Spirits, icons named, in institutions of yours, churches called. For are these icons necessary really to address in hearts those Spirits immortal ?

No one gave you the right to replace the fire purifying of awakening spirit with wax candles of yours. For impossible it is to replace spiritual with material, and if the first exists without the second, the second never exists without the first.

No one gave you the right to store bones of people, named sacred by you, when they leave this world in a journey to the Spiritual one, into your bosoms. For it’s not the bones that are sacred, but the heat of human’s heart, turning to the God in its holy impulse.

No one gave you the right to replace fast the essence of ablution and purification spiritual with those of water material. For it’s not the water itself that purifies us, may it be three times in silvery tubes boiled, but desire of our spirit of purification named.

No one gave you the right to limit the residence of God to dome markets of yours, churches nicknamed. For the whole world is a domain of the eternal God, and each of us has His part as well.

No one gave you the right to do all that mentioned. It’s you who have stolen it, and great is responsibility of yours for such thievery, for it’s the God whom you are stealing from. For it’s the people, trusting you, whom you are deceiving. Like blind ones lead you them into the pits – but who will fall in it the first soon enough, I wonder ?

Those in disagreement you damn and curse. Those seeking the God in the hearts of theirs without directions from yours you call disbelievers. Fighting with each other over the doctrines you are, merciful ones.

Or should I remind you, perchance, how have you put witches afire previously, oh holy and just ones ? Or should I remind you, perchance, how have you tortured people in casemates of yours ? Or should I remind you, perchance, how have you organized “sacred” bloody campaigns ? Or do you think you have changed much since then ? Perhaps, not trying to kill those not consent with you on spot now you are.

But until now you, peaceful ones, have still been fighting among yourselves, on silliest occasions possible. For the service of yours have business of yours become and no need for God live and just you have anymore. And if the God has come to all of you this very instant – what would you tell Him ? Whether you have made correct quotation of your services and whether the demon of errors have not crept into the calculations of your prices ? So know, that it’s the golden calf whom you have been worshipping for a long time already – for when the sanctity leaves soul of human, it’s the self-interest the takes its place soon.

Mercenary ones among false ones – and so few true ones … but all self-interest comes to an end once in a while nevertheless. On the Dread Judgment it comes. And neither the golden crosses, nor the baked candles save you there. And mourn and cry in desperation will everyone who have dimmed the fire of his spirit under a stream golden, and the voice of soul, named conscience, have made silent.

The last chance you are given to wash away your guilt with worthy affairs, with true aid to the human’s soul instead of its illusion, which you have been assiduously supporting.

Will you be able to use this chance truly, I wonder ?

So give yourself the answer in the calm loneliness of your spirit, and travel the path your heart desire and calls you into.

20.10.2010

Believer