Saturday, April 15, 2006

Life, Death and the Uncommon Cold

(I was supposed to post this on Easter Eve, but due to illness, I am just finishing it now)
Sorry for the light posting. I have not been feeling well, lately. What started out as an annoying itch in the back of my throat has settled into my lungs and sinuses. I cough like the damned. Last night was the worst. I could barely gasp for air, and the thought going through my mind was, "I could die tonight. I don't want to die, but this is so bad that I think I could die." I then spent the night sitting in an upright position reflecting on how my death would ruin and devastate my family. I wasn't in self-pity mode. In self-pity mode, you imagine them suffering, and you get a twisted sort of kick from it, watching them suffer. But I have no reason to pity myself. I have four beautiful daughters, who love me....even the irksome middle child, Fearless Fosdick. I have a devoted husband who has been by my side and kept all the vows he made on our wedding day. I could never ask for a better man for a husband, lover and father of my kids.
I have a relatively comfortable life. I am lucky that I got to stay home and raise the kids. Other mothers have it much worse. No father at home for their kids, maybe have to work 2 jobs. That hasn't been my lot.
No. I have no complaints. But I wonder if this is going to kill me. I pray that it doesn't. I don't want to believe I am THAT sick. My mind won't accept that I am. I hope this will pass, but I had this before. I very nearly did die from it, and it left me weakened and susceptible to recurring bouts. I had to quit singing in the church choir, because of asthmatic bronchitis. My voice is broken, and I haven't been to church in awhile.
I hate going to church. The sermons have become irrelevent psychobabble. The songs, once divided among the congregation into four parts is now the same wretched pop song over and over. Music, which was performed by the congregants is now pre-recorded tracks, and no one knows how to harmonize. Everyone's a damn soloist. Christian karaoke. Uggh. I hate it.
I tried going back to church after 9/11 and the pastor blathered on and on about not one thing related to the traumas of the preceding Tuesday. Not one word about it. Nothing about a spiritual war, nothing about mourning, grief or death. My husband and I sat together, reading each other's minds: "What is going on here? Where's God in all this?"
Instead, the pastor gave a standard sermon I am sure I heard several years ago. He might as well have written ICHABOD (1) on the church doors. Many churches ought to just have the word ICHABOD (2) in large neon letters above the church.
Interesting to ponder for me, was the fact, that the associate pastor went to jail not long after I left the church for good. He embezzled over 3 million dollars from elderly folks, by persuading them that their investments would be safe...but it was just a PONZI scheme.
From this same church, a dysfunctional father with a wretched reputation for womanizing, was the the lead tenor in the choir. Where does sin enter into the sermons of the prosperitizors?
His son grew up to be worse than his father. Arrested with one of the largest caches of child pornography, in local history, his only son, gay rights activist, transvestite, former church pianist, died unexpectedly in police custody, the rotten fruit, dying at the roots of the evil tree which bore him.
So why do I out all these fine, upstanding Christians? After all, the mantra for tolerance is, "Do not judge, lest ye be judged," which is a perversion of scripture. "For ye will be judged with the same measure that ye judge." But judgment is not the same as disgust and anger. Judgment requires the passing of a sentence and the execution of that sentence. Discernment to be properly appalled by unethical conduct is quite different. Telling someone that his behavior is sinful isn't judging him, but warning him of an impending judgment...or consequences.
We confuse so many words, and by doing so, stifle the thought which needs to be said.
Having said all of the above, I wish you a Blessed Easter, and a Blessed Passover.

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