Is Virtue Its Own Reward? Reflections on the Real Price and Value of Kindness...

 

L)) In My Own Words: Listen to Part 1 and Part 2 of a podcast episode I recorded where I talk about my experiences and how it changed the way I viewed society and the world around me for the rest of my life. 

"I want to be part of society. However, society must recognise my difference. Unfortunately, in spite of any rhetoric promoting inclusion, those who hold themselves to be the ‘norm’ persist in creating barriers that prevent us from being truly included. Our society , still silently, believes that the non-disabled, Maltese, Caucasian and straight man is the ideal […] this prize has reminded me that I am, and it seems, I will remain the ‘other’. For, even now, what I write may be interpreted to be the angry voice of that young boy who thought he was just like any other boy to discover that he must remain always an outsider."  

 

This week I have been doing some soul searching. I didn’t expect that I would react to this news as I did this time. Perhaps it’s because I’m more in touch with my thoughts and feelings. Indeed, the painful memories of a past long forgotten seemed to have come to haunt me again. I am sorry for being unclear but my thoughts and emotions are unsettled.

Let me take you back to a time when I was a boy of around 10. I was watching the local news in the evening when I heard the name of one of my best friends being mentioned. I admit that I was jealous at first. I was curious to know what had happened. I listen attentively… He was being awarded a prize for kindness… I listened more attentively now. A prize, for what? 

And then , I understand he was being rewarded for ‘helping’ his ‘poor handicapped friend’. Who? Then, it dawned on me as if I was struck by lightning. I was that boy he was ‘helping’. I was the boy described in terms of a ‘needy’ and even ‘helpless’. I felt that it seemed they were talking about another ‘crippled’ boy - not me! I felt betrayed.

At first, I was angry at my supposed ‘friend’. I was angry because I started to suspect that our friendship had been a charade. A ploy to be awarded such a prize or to look nice and popular with others. But, if I think about it, as a child himself, he really had no say in the matter. Undeniably, I did feel betrayed by my friend and while we sort of patched things up, from then on our friendship was never the same.

Why am I telling you this? The truth that this prize for kindness - also known in Maltese as “Premju tat-Tjubija” or “Premju Qalb tad-Deheb)”“ (Golden Heart Award) or “Premju Gwanni XXIII” (Pope John 23rd Award) is an initiative started off by a local NGO called the "Peace Lab”. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in the values expressed by this organisation, including the promotion of peace and dialogue between people. However, I believe that the ones who cane up with the idea of awarding a so-called “Prize for Kindness” may not be aware of what impact could have on the children who are being awarded this prize and the child who is ‘being helped’.

I don’t know what my best friend went through then and what he thinks of this experience today. What I can say that it left me with a sense of betrayal and forced me to mistrust others who sought my friendship for a long time. You know it is said that “the road to hell is paved with good intentions’. And I’m sure that my teachers and school had all the good intentions by nominating my friend. But while my friend achieved a certain prestige and recognition, I felt suddenly I was invalidated as a person. And the way the media portrayed me, again, was less than flattering. I was the taker and a burden. I knew that my friend didn’t see our friendship as a one-way thing. Yet, I was forced to question everything. Was I a ‘sacrifice’? 

Yes, it took years before I can say that I regained some trust. However, in spite of the terrible things they said about me. Defining me only in terms of my physical impairment. As if that was my problem. My curse. I have adapted to it didn’t I? Why do you need to deny that my body is part of who I am? Instead, you rob me of any claims to my individual identity. And so, deny my humanity. I know that these are hard words to write. But I can’t shout them out loud because I would gain nothing. For, even if we hate to admit it, such prizes only reinforce our social inequalities not just as disabled people but as human beings. We have to reward a friendship because we still perceive a disabled child to be always ‘less fortunate’. He or she is always taking. As if our friendship wasn’t based on mutual respect and understanding. As if we didn’t share our childhood together.

I want to be part of society. However, society must recognise my difference. Unfortunately, in spite of any rhetoric promoting inclusion, those who hold themselves to be the ‘norm’ persist in creating barriers that prevent us from being included. Our society , still silently, believes that the non-disabled, Maltese, Caucasian and straight man is the ideal. I am sorry to have to say all this but I can’t help feeling that this prize has reminded me that I am, and it seems, I will remain the ‘other’. For, even now, what I write may be interpreted to be the angry voice of that young boy who thought he was just like any other boy to discover that he must remain always an outsider. 

Today, I understand that we are all co-dependent. We all need each other in today’s world. By pretending to be doing charity by simply sending money where, granted, it is needed will not solve the problems of poverty, lack of access, food shortage and the many problems that we all must share responsibility for. Awarding a prize for kindness will always mean that one is, in some way, inferior to another. And, worse, the fact that you’re telling children that a friendship between a disabled and a non-disabled friend is an act of kindness is telling them that such a friendship is a sacrifice where one party is always the less important - the less of value. Have we become so desperate for kindness that we need to reward even ordinary friendships by painting them using our own narratives of heroes and courage? 

Now, my last thoughts. I know that I have used strong language here. But, honestly, I don’t want other children to go through my experience. Yes, I have learned from it as well. Yet, I believe it is diametrically opposed to the principles of inclusion I believe in. A prize for ‘kindness’ is also a misunderstanding of charity. Charity requires us to practice compassion where we help others not out of pity and because we think we are better than them. Compassion and charity are about being with another human being and looking at him or her as your equal. It’s not and should never be a power relationship.

 And what about the idea of rewarding kindness?

“Virtue is its own reward”!

At least, it should be!

 

Related Entries:

Painful Memories of a Prize for Kindness 

> from: Gordon's D-Zone

The True Meaning of Charity

> from: ZoneMind 

 

On Father...

Today, in this part of the world, we celebrate Father’s Day. I wanted to share some reflections on this day. I admit that I believe it’s rather artificial to pretend that this particular day is set apart for fathers. The same can be said of other days similar to this, such as mother’s day or children’s day. The fact that while this day offers me an opportunity to think about how my father has supported me during my life, the fact is that my father was always there. And, thankfully, in spite of being in his early 80s, he is healthier than I am and far stronger than I can ever be.

I can say that my father remains an important person in my life. I have fond memories when I was younger and used to take walks out with my father and discussed a wide range of subjects, my hopes and fears and so on. He also encouraged me to think for myself and not to let others decide on my behalf. He also encouraged me to pursue my constant and, yes, tiring questioning… Why? How? When? Etc. Now, that I think of it, he was a great influence in my life and, most importantly, he gave me the freedom to ask question and think on my own.

Of course, there were many occasions when I rebelled and felt I ‘hated him’ for denying me what I wanted. I really don’t know what came on me when I hit puberty. But, today, I am happy that my dad is still alive and part of my life. We don’t always share the same opinions on certain topics but we share a lot, I believe, in our value system. I cannot speak of experiences where fathers have been absent or, worse, violent towards their partners and children - I can only speak of my own experience. And, yet, I have had other father figures in my life who have helped me in developing my thoughts and identity. To all those who have been a surrogate father, for lack of a better word - I thank you too.

I hope that my father will remain with me in this life for some more years to come. I will surely miss him if he is gone. Yet, I hope to remember him in my heart and in the memories I have of the time we have and are spending together.

You helped make me the man I am today!

Burying the Self

I am.

Can I proceed and add more to that sentence without risking becoming someone that is really not who I am. Apart from that, aren’t the words “I am” already presenting a lot as these two words attempt to capture an idea that can only be poorly represented using language.

I have been engaging in deep meditation for some time. However, I have realised that, even when we think we can better relate to the world, the truth is that we must come to a point when we become aware of the empty nature of things. The statement “I am” attempts to describe what cannot adequately expressed using the conventional means of communication. There’s no single aspect of who we are that can define who we are.

While the person we call ‘self’ is real in a sense, in many ways this ‘self’ is just a product of the interactions that are happening in our minds and bodies.

Sadly, we are often too attached to the way we have come to see our selves than to reflect on who we actually are. We are separate and unique selves but, at the same time, who we are is intrinsically linked to the world around us. We are part of nature but we remain distinct, in some way, from nature. We can be with others as one but still retain our own identities.

Naturally, we tend to associate ourselves with a group of friends, be part of a community where we can share our beliefs. Find that we like a particular form of music or read books that seem to talk to us. Inasmuch as all this and more can help us in getting to know the world and who we are, they can never define who we are. Not even religion or science or even art can define who we are. It may define our ‘self’ in the world but they don’t tell us anything about who we are.

The unfortunate thing is that we tend to define who we are in these terms. We talk about who we are referring to our work, our religion, our position in the family and so on. But, if everything else was taken away from us. Or, else, we come to the point when we have to face our own death, how would we define who we are then? If we think of the story we built to define who we are, would we have a rope to keep us from drowning into desperation?

Of course, the self remains an important aspect of who we are as it helps us function in the world. Yet, there is more to us than this self. For, positive as it might be, this self is constantly changing. It is changing right now as I type this entry. Your self is changing as you read this entry. It is in this space where we pause from the writing of our life story that we can find who we are. In it’s in that split second when we have to decide what to do and what to think that we may hope to find ourselves.

It is difficult in today’s world to retreat to a place where we can be really silent and aware of what we are thinking. As I grow in my practice of meditation, I realise just how much ‘noise’ is going on in my mind during the day. But, now, I have come to realise that who I am goes beyond what I thought I was.

However, it remains hard to completely detach myself from the story I Have constructed to define who I am. Yet, while that doesn’t mean I want to annihilate the self that helps me function in society, it does mean that I am more aware of the fact that my life will change and my life will end. I cannot hope that someday I will be happy or, worse still, seek to bring back an ideal past.

Here, I must be ready to bury my old self and live again.

An Elusive Silence

I find it difficult to find moments of complete silence in today's wold. I remember that as a child, I could find a place at home or when I'm outside when there's almost complete silence, interrupted by the pleasant song of birds and possibly the sounds of crickets in the summer months.

I don't want to sound too nostalgic here. But, the fact that as I grow in my Buddhist practice of meditation, the more I've come to appreciate the value of stillness and silence. Unfortunately, if the silence I am seeking depended on the environment or the people around me, then returning to a past where there were times when the world seems to rest and simply become silent for just a few hours.

Today,, we are literally bombarded by a cacophony of noises, music that is sometimes too loud to bear, the sounds emanating from our mobile phones and email programmes informing us that we received a request of some kind, or a reply and so on. Requests that distract our attention from the world around us. Tools that are meant to enhance our communication but which, at times, isolate us from those who are around us.

I wonder if my own need to keep in touch with the virtual world is but an escape from facing the immediate world. Or, if this as sometimes an attempt to escape from a silence that might draw my attention to parts of who I am that I rather not explore. Parts of me that I would rather be unaware of. Painful or disturbing memories of a past that I wanted to forget. But, then what does this say about me?

If we are seeking more a life where we need to be connected with the world from the moment we wake up to the moment we are getting to sleep, what does this say about us?

The reality is that, unless we can travel to a remote part of the world where technology hasn't caught up, the reality of those who are living today in most parts of the minority world and small parts of the majority world, remains one where silence is a rarity or an impossibility. However, amidst this noisy world we have created, I still find time when I can find a silence.

It's not a silence where's there's no sound such as that found in the vacuum of space. It's the silence I find as I become aware of my breathing. As I stop moving and just rest my body and let my thoughts pass by. It's a silence where I know that I have a time when I only need to listen to the world around me and not necessarily react or respond. It's simply stopping and noticing the sounds around me, the vision I still have and be aware of the sensations of my body.

This is the silence that I may aspire to. For, even if we use our mind and body on a daily basis, we often take all this for granted. That is, of course, until we become ill or are in pain.

It is recognising the uniqueness of our present experience that we can actually enjoy life and discover that silence that provides us with the space to be who we truly are!

Meditations on Mother's Day

First, let me share a haiku I composed to mark this year's Mother's Day:

To All Mothers*

1
Mothers of all time,
Now, you made us who we are.
You've given us life.

2
Mothers without child.
You've given birth to new hope.
You've given us life.

3
Mothers, you're human.
You may fall and rise, but then,
You've given us life.

4
If it hadn't been you,
We would not be here. No one.
For that, we love you...

5
Divided we are.
We forget that we all had…
We all had mothers!

And, now, some  meditations...

On May 12, we celebrate Mother's day in our country. However,as I realised as I grew older, other countries may celebrate Mother's day on a different day. In spite of this, every nation and culture appears to hold a special place for mothers.

The fact is that, whatever our differences, we all have or had a mother in our life. If it weren't so, we wouldn't be here. Unfortunately, we often take our mothers for granted and fail to appreciate the precious gift our mother has given us. The unique opportunity to live. On the other hand, it's dangerous to idealise mothers and motherhood for the simple reason that mothers remain human.

I am thankful that my mother is still alive. But, I cannot forget those sons and daughters who have been rejected by their mothers or given away without understanding why. Children whose mothers died during childbirth. Children who lost their mothers during their infancy or childhood. And those mothers who, due to personal issues, had to give up their child for adoption. The

mothers who became mothers because they didn't receive the proper education. Mothers who have become mothers out of violent relationships or through rape, where the child becomes a constant reminder of the rapist and violator of her body. Then there are mothers who reject their unborn child for their own reasons. There are many mothers who don't have children but care for other people and children as if they were a mother. In a way, aren't these mothers to?

There's no one relationship that exists between mother and child. We might prefer the idea of a good mother as one who nurtures her children and construct a 'perfection of motherhood'. However, in the real world, such motherly perfection doesn't exist and is impossible to achieve. Yet, what all mothers have in common is that they are the only ones who can have children. They are the life givers and, in their hands, they hold the future of all of humanity.

True, as men, we have a part to play in bringing other human beings, but women are the only ones capable to bring forth new life into the world. Indeed, we call our Earth, mother Earth and not Father Earth.. Indeed, many species of the Earth are born of women, who become mothers. In a way, the fact that women are the only ones who have the potential to become mothers,, makes you wonder why, where there's mention of God, God always referred to inn terms of 'he' not 'she'.

This may be due much more to the way civilisation has evolved from one worships the Goddess to one that venerates God but I won't go into that today. However, the reality remains that every single aspect of human civilisation would have been impossible if there weren't mothers. Indeed, without mothers, there would have been no humanity to begin with.

Of course, various religions and cultures have their particular takes on motherhood. However, all great leaders, scientists, artists, musicians, writers and religious figures and, indeed, all of us, had or have a mother. Indeed, in spite of any differences we might have as human beings, we all share a common experience of being born because we had a mother.

Even if we are invited to think of our mothers if we're lucky to have had one we can remember, it is important that we appreciate the gift that is life we have been given.

And even if our mothers have somewhat failed us or even harmed us in the past, they gave us this life which no one else could give us and which no one can give us in our life.

* For more haikus like this, kindly visit my haiku blog at: Haiku Flow. Hope you enjoy!

The Call of the Phoenix

> Download the Phoenix Haiku  trio as a song from Sound Cloud

> Read the original Phoenix Haiku Trio on HaikuFlow

* Please note that links open in a new window!

THE PHOENIX: A COMMENTARY

A few days after Easter this year, I was inspired to write another haiku trio I called “The Phoenix”. There were many reasons why I chose to write this haiku trio. The trio itself deals with the inevitability of death and seeks to capture our longing for safety, order and stability in face of doubt and death. During that period, I was also facing personal health issues that forced me to reflect on what meaning I could find in my state of physical weakness and  to deal with a  growing sense of isolation. 

While the mythological fire bird, the phoenix, is at the centre of the haiku trio, his manifestation is only symbolic as he serves me to embody my hope in a better future when I will return stronger than I was before to the world. It’s not about overcoming the pain and darkness that we may have to deal with in our lives. It’s about accepting it for what it is and attempting to understand its origin and real causes. Like the fire that burns the phoenix, pain and suffering can help us build us inside and make us aware of of what is really important in life. Indeed, while we often despise pain and suffering and, more often, have demonised these experiences in modern life, there’s certain pain and suffering that is both essential and necessary to ensure that we grow and learn about the world and ourselves.

BEING AWARE OF WHO WE ARE...  

Indeed, the first verses of the trio define the phoenix as being inseparable from his burden of having to burn and turn into ashes. Fire itself opens up an opportunity for another life - possibly better than the life he had before. In this sense, if we regard fire to be a metaphor for physical and spiritual pain, then the triumph of the phoenix is not in fighting the fire but enduring it until it consumes itself. For fire cannot survive without being fed but may need to be left to burn out until it is extinguished. Pain and human dissatisfaction represented by the fire can only be defeated if they are accepted for what they are. Experiences and characteristics of human existence that won’t last forever. Yet, while we may dismiss or reject them as they cause discomfort, they can also help improve us and change us for the better. Indeed, the may provide us with a chance to “live again”::   

I am the phoenix…

I will rise from my ashes…

I will live again!

BEING INTO BECOMING

In other words, in order to be happy we must be aware that we should not be so attached to the things we have or the life we have. For while we do good to enjoy what we have been given, we must also be careful not too become too tied and attached to what we have. For, despite any beliefs we might have in an absolute or in our own immortality, the fact is that, ironically, change is our only constant. Indeed, like all material reality, our body and brain are constantly changing. 

This is the process of renewal. However, although renewal can be understood to be a positive idea, renewal itself only describes that change has taken place and doesn’t draw judgment on the nature of that change. Indeed, as all matter in the universe is in the process of losing energy in an ongoing process of entropy, so does our life inevitably lead to our own entropy, we call death. Thus, the last line of the verse emphasises the fact that the phoenix too knows that his existence is finite. 

This  line apparently contrasts but  complements the last line of the first haikus. Death and life must co-exist for the cycle of existence. Death provides the chance for new life to be born. A life without dying  is impossible for, at the end of the day, no matter can escape the process of entropy and decay:

Ever constant change…

This cycle of renewal…

I will die again

Hoping against hope

While I won’t go into the issue of whether there is life for those who die, it’s a fact that the living will continue to live for some time after a person dies. Thus, we choose to remember and honour the loved ones who have died before us. Even if honouring our dead is a proper way to express our love and respect for those who died, it’s a ritual that we do for ourselves. Its a way how we can get to terms with the reality of dying and with the fact that another human being is no longer living with us. Life will continue but such an occasion should also remind us of our own impermanence and mortality. It may even be an opportunity to look at our life and realise that we cannot grow too attached to this world, as one day we will have to die too.

The hope, of course, found in many religious traditions, is that the human spirit will continue to live in another plain or in another dimension. However, we don’t have any proof of an after-life and having proof of such an existence beyond life misses the point. For, in many ways, it’s not where we go after leaving this Earth that matters as human beings. Rather, it is how we lived our present lives that really  matters. For if we lived in constant greed and  competition, if we are  held by insatiable  envy, desire  and hate In our present life, we are already living in a hell of our own creation. 

The ritual of death…

To be buried in this earth…

Hoping to return…

The final lines of the trio promise that, in some way, our material  essence, at least, will remain on this Earth and will contribute In the making of new life. In this sense, I wished to evoke a sense of continuation and as in the second haiku of the trio, to provide an example of renewal. From our deaths, there will arise new life and when this life dies, new life will once again emerge. Thus, the cycle of renewal continues but will continue indefinitely. Of course, the last lines encapsulates our human longing to see our departed loved ones to return. 

Indeed, we unconsciously seek to return to our previous life or to a better life in an after-life. We fear losing our sense of selves because we have unknowingly identified our very being with the world. We fear that death will mean that our unspoken fear that we are indeed nothing without others and without the things that make up this world. We are afraid of recognising our impermanence as this would undermine our idea of a constant and absolute self. In this life, we fear to lose our memory and sense of identity. In death, we fear losing all that we thought would be forever here. In spite of the apparent despair one may get from reading this haiku trio, the facts of life and death that I have dealt with in the trio are not matters of opinion or belief. We live and die, our bodies decay and decompose, matter in the universe is in the process of entropy. Nothing can be created or destroyed. Matter only changes in form but remains present.

A CONSOLATION?

In the spirit of our renewing existence, I find some consolation. For even if I will simply become nothing, I know that a part of what I was on this Earth will remain and possibly yield new life. There may be an after-life, but I feel that I cannot live a happy life if I rest my hope in an after-life that may or may not be there. I am living in the present. And it is in the present that I can find happiness. A happiness that doesn’t depend on objects of desire but that is based on an understanding that as a human being, all I am and all I have is a gift of a life that I must treasure. A life that is ultimately dependent on the world and the people who form part of it.

This, I believe, is the hope in a return that I tried to  express through  the call of the phoenix! 

A Secular Easter, An Empty Tomb and a Dead God: A Long Easter Meditation

What to write?

 

I have been struggling to gather my thoughts and ideas before daring to write this entry. I had planned to have something ready on Easter Sunday which would made this entry topical and current. Today, a week has already passed since Easter Sunday and believers and non-believers have probably forgotten the festivities and returned back to their old routines when they went back to their regular routines. A thing  I usually did myself in the past.

 

I admit that my hesitation to tackle the subject of Easter may be due to the fact that I don’t see myself as a Roman Catholic. I cannot hide the fact that, even if as a child, I always felt not quite comfortable with aspects of Catholicism because, as I liked to learn on my own, the majority of Christians had only a superficial understanding of their faith. As a child, I was prone to reason out some of the teachings as interpreted by the priests of my time. I knew deep inside that a morality based on fear of hell was a very shallow one. But, that possibility of being punished by God was too terrible to contemplate. Naturally, heaven was where I wanted to be after I died.

 

I was both shocked and disturbed when I started reading parts of the Old Testament your average Christian wouldn’t have read in their life time. For instance, Leviticus, which, to my horror, forbade anyone who had an impairment of any sort to offer anything to God for that person was unworthy to be in God’s sight. And, references to impairment as sin in the New Testament started making sense. Indeed, Jesus tried to address the irrationality of such beliefs. But, I can attest that I did feel awkward among the fervently religious. At times to be called saintly, and in the silence of the hearts, some suspected I was the result of sin. Images of the devil have also suggested impairment of some sort to me. While I denied my impairment for many years. 

 

Yet, deep down, I knew that the logical conclusion of what Leviticus had been saying was that I was unworthy of God. In that sense, I had some sympathy with the devil when he was expelled from heaven. Not that I wanted, in any way, to become God. But, rather, because I could identify of being rejected and excluded because I was physically different. Yes, the devil’s sin was that of pride but he was always represented as the ‘other’. I could relate to that feeling of otherness and rejection. Indeed, as I rekindled my passion for Eastern philosophy and Buddhism, in particular, it was I found an old childhood friend. I once again started meditating but this time wanted to further cultivate my understanding of Buddhist thought. 

 

I don’t see myself as a Roman Catholic any more but I am grateful for the teachings I got from Christianity. In a sense, I am practicing a philosophy beyond the confines of religion. I have no problem with the belief in God and also find no problem with those who don’t believe in God. However, I’m saddened when supposedly mature adults debate on whether God exists or not as their lives depended on it.

 

After all,  it’s a fact that God exists. But, here, I must explain some more.

 

Does God exist?

 

God exists. However, whether God exists as an entity, if at all, is debatable. Who is God? Even this question cannot be answered unless one is affiliated with a particular religion. In monotheism, there is a personal God but you’ll find no such God in some Eastern traditions. There are belief systems where there are plenty of gods and some were there are even good and evil gods. In Buddhism, the question of God is not really relevant. Mind you, Buddhism doesn’t deny God or accept God. Its belief system is compatible, in many ways, with science. Everything, it is observed, is a product of causes and conditions. Nothing can be its own creation. Everything is co-created or dependently arising. Thus, one can only say that Buddhism - at least Tibetan Buddhism - is a non-theistic tradition. I subscribe to that world view today.

 

New atheists and believers may go discussing whether God exists till the end of time. It might be a form of spending their time and energy and even to express themselves. However, if the issue cannot be resolved in our lifetime, why does it have to be an issue that divides us? Do we really believe that living without God means living without morality or a sense of ethics? Is a fear of punishment and desire to reach heaven the proper foundation for any morality? I think not. A crusade against religion is, in my view, not unlike a religious crusade. 

 

And this is really not what Jesus died for. His teachings invite us not to judge others and to be wise. Attainment of heaven or hell are not things that we should await because we believed or simply did good deeds. Indeed, the idea that we must live for a life beyond defies the main teachings of Jesus. I don’t think he wanted us to become so proud of our religion that, consciously or unconsciously, close our  hearts and minds to other points of  view. It’s in the intention that we perform deeds that makes them good or bad. Indeed, if one performs an act of kindness to appear kind and good to others, 

 

That act of kindness, great as it might be, is its own reward. The motivation isn’t compassion but ambition. The beliefs that Jesus tried to instil into his largely superstitious and dogmatic community were one that encouraged them to open up to the other, even to your enemies. It encouraged his community to break away to a rigid adherence to the letter of the law and instead embrace the spirit of the law. And I suspect that Jesus didn’t want a religion that was fixated on his crucifixion and resurrection. Indeed, the authentic pursuit of a follower of Jesus, indeed, would be not to follow him as you would be venerating a god but follow his teachings in your daily living. To be honest with yourself and make sure you are ready to open your awareness to your inner self and to the other. 

 

Faith, in my view, is not about believing in holy objects or even in miracles, Faith is in fully accepting and taking refuge in the knowledge, if you may, that you don’t know and that many things you will never know. To accept, as it is also rational, that you should live for the present because it is in the present that one can find true happiness. Happiness is not a location in time, happiness is is in the present. Only there can you be truly happy.

 

A Secular Easter?

 

Many Christians hold Easter to be the only reason for their beliefs. Indeed, the resurrection of Christ from the dead and his triumph over sin and evil is the most important event in the Christian calendar. It’s more important than Christmas as without Easter, or the resurrection, there would be no reason to celebrate the birth of Christ. I respect the belief in the resurrection of Christ. However, based on my background and what I have written earlier, I find that Easter has become more of a matter of tradition, for the believer and non-believer alike. Is this a bad thing? Of course, the meaning of Easter is radically different for the true believer in the resurrection and the non-believer. But then, as I try to reconcile these worlds, which, in a way, represent the younger me and the older me, can we find a common ground?

 

A fact that many remain unaware of is that Easter time was always significant  for different civilisations, and many pagan ones too. Indeed, the word ‘Easter’ itself derives from the name of an Assyrian deity, known in old Greek cults as Astarte, the goddess of sex and fertility. However, this belief in Astarte is also there because of another important event in early agriculturally based society. Easter time was also the beginning of Spring, when life can be renewed and food could be harvested after the long and cold  Winter period.

 

It is here that I dare find a way to bring the non-believer and believer closer together. For the resurrection of Christ is, for all intents and purposes, a renewal. A triumph of life over death. The transformation of the old and dead into the new and living. It’s our annual journey from the cold winter to the gentle spring in our lives. It’s an opportunity to grow and shed the old persons we were and find that we are more than we thought we are. In fact, we discover that the very act of defining ourselves is limiting who we are as whole human beings. 

 

Indeed, many times, we tend to judge things in terms of good or bad, without considering that things are not good or bad in themselves, rather what one learns from these experiences that makes a difference. The Buddha invites us to be masters of our own selves. Jesus invites us to take responsibility over our own lives. They both challenge us to be true to ourselves and not necessarily follow the law to conform and live a lie to remain safe and comfortable. This invitation is often missed and while I don’t claim to be right, I can say that, for the time being, I think  this way. My experiences have reinforced this conviction. I thought my visual impairment was the worse thing that could happen in my life, yet today it has opened my eyes to a richer life. 

 

Being a physically impaired boy was never easy, but I learned to be more open and receptive to people that others considered to be outcasts or ‘not of their kind’. It also made me to truly  understand what is meant to be ‘alienated’ in the sense that one becomes detached from his own society - similar to the worker in Marx who finds that his relation with what he manufactures is irreversibly broken and he simply becomes an object, not that different from the machine he’s using. It is that sense of being denied an individual identity that I identified with. Of being stripped of my claim to humanity itself. 

 

Today, I can say that my engagement with Buddhism has complemented the old Gordon and opened my heart and mind to a  new me who is not ashamed to assert that I accept my limitations as a human being but also know that I have strengths as well. I am also ready to admit that much of what I am today is not of my own making. Even this sense of identity and person who is writing this is, in a way, an illusion. An illusion that arises  out of an interplay between my brain and the senses. The world I live in is, thus, not as I perceive it to be. Although there’s no denying that my world from my perspective appears to be real. Yet, considering  that my sense of reality is dependent on so many factors, there’s room for doubt even about who is doing the writing. And it is here that I might look at Easter.

 

An  Empty Tomb:

 

The accounts about the resurrection of Jesus were written years after they occurred. Does that make them less credible? In a way, it does for the events taking place are a product of eye witness accounts. In a court, such evidence would be highly contestable. But does that make them of less value if they can’t be verified? Perhaps I’ve been asking the wrong questions all along. And considering the possibility of human error inn eyewitness accounts remains a stumbling block if one wants solid facts. But, then, can we ask another question. Is there another truth that we may be missing out on if we either accept or reject the resurrection?

 

I think  yes. For the resurrection, real or symbolic, represents a renewal and a transformation. The old is still there but the old is not there any more. In other words, we believe we are the same children who just grew up. But, even factually, our bodies have lost much of its old cells today. That is why we have grown. In my case, grown a little more. Yet, even our brains have changed and, thus, even our minds. In this sense, we are constantly dying and being born. To stop this process of renewal and growth is what death is. It is in this context that we can take the image of the empty tomb from a more secular point of view.

 

While we may fear to think about the tomb because it reminds us of our own impermanence and mortality, Jesus’ account redefines the symbol of the ‘tomb’ from an inevitable finality to a place of possibility. Indeed, our beings are empty of inherent existence, Buddhism says. This is not a bad thing because emptiness here must be taken to mean nothingness but is a liberation of sorts, an invitation to go beyond the limitations imposed on us by society and by our own thoughts. Indeed, the emptiness is an invitation to renew who we are. A plant will not grow where there are many plants that are taking all the nutrients and minerals. Only emptiness can make us whole by freeing us from our attachment to things that do not exist in their own right. Things that are always impermanent.

 

The empty tomb is like the womb of a mother who has just given birth. The tomb is no longer a symbol of death but a symbol of hope  in a better tomorrow. Here, a resurrected Christ. 

If the wasn’t emptiness but only fullness, the universe wouldn’t be possible. Change wouldn’t be possible. Emptiness gives us the opportunity to go beyond our boundaries but, at the same time, reminds us not to become so complacent with life because as we emerge from this emptiness, we are still one with emptiness. Our sense of who we are which appears to us to be so solid and tangible isn’t permanent. The possibility of death is not just in the death of the body but also in the death of the mind. The death of our humanity. In this light, the resurrection can mean something even for the non-believer.

 

Conclusion: A Dead God?

 

In the context of what I have said already, the resurrection resonates with our very humanity. We long for renewal. We fear to die. We hope In a tomorrow. Even if it’s not guaranteed that we find ourselves the next morning. Easter and the renewal brought about by Spring are evoked in our art, our science and in our faiths and beliefs. No matter what, even if we may be staunch non-believers, we still want to claim a little to the ever after. Deep inside, we seek to be remembered in one way or another in this life by others. It’s not relevant whether we continue living in the memories of people or in another state of existence, we seek to be remembered. The plain truth, however, is that in the distant future, no one of us will be remembered and there will be no humans in the universe. Where will we all go?

 

I cannot answer that question. For, in truth, if I think about it, not even the sense of who I am is as real and  rigid as I thought I was. Our bodies die, our minds change and our lives are finite. To me, discussing whether God  exists or not can’t be resolved in a debate of any sort. Is God really dead? Yes, the moment God becomes a word and a concept, yes, God is dead. In Judaism, it is forbidden to utter the name of God. Now I can understand why. For God is not to be understood. Indeed, God is not a being. God simply is. Moses was told that the voice speaking to him was  the “I am that I am!’. 

 

We’re wrong if we pretend to be able to define God or claim that we can accept or reject God without understanding that God, cannot be understood. In fact, by using the word I’m once again trying to own and lay claim to what I will never know or understand. And there is the death of God.

I know that not many will understand what I write, let alone agree with what I wrote here. I don’t even pretend I am right or correct in some things I wrote. I have tried to struggle with the question of existence and I know that I am wrong in so many ways. Yet if life has taught me anything and if Buddhism has taught me anything and if secularism has taught me anything is that we are called to live in the present. It’s the every day that we are invited to change and it’s at every moment of our existence that we can be happy and when we can grow.

 

It’s in this way that the Christian message ceases to be an exclusive message of Christians. It’s only in this way that a secular Easter is possible.

 

It is, at that point, when an empty tomb becomes a symbol of renewal and possibility. It’s there were admitting that God is dead is ironically an invitation to find the one “Who Is”! 

 

Thanks for reading through this very long  entry!