OK, so I had the last of my Easter Bunny/Santa Claus/God moments in a post the other day.
In truth, I never really believed in the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus, and I was in my late teens when I became aware that the personal god of fundamentalism was really just the third part of the fairy tale trinity.
But our friend Sarah was right. In a comment to my God post the other day, she wrote something I already knew:
I don’t know where this idea of “if there’s a god, nothing bad should ever happen to anyone” came from. I can only speak for Christianity, but the Bible is full of stories about terrible things happening to people, including people of faith.
As a Theosophist, I don’t believe in a god that could make everything better with a simple command or thought. I stopped believing in that when I had my first “there is no God” moment back when I was 18 or 19 — not long after George Harrison turned me on to eastern spirituality.
But when I cried the other day for the passengers of the plane that we now know was shot down by the Iranian military, I regressed to my childhood years when I believed “fairy tales can come true/It can happen to you if you’re young at heart.”
My heart was broken. It still is. We are a nation of broken hearts today.
It’s not the first time I regressed on the god point. When my late, beloved Rick died suddenly, I had more than a few expletives for the non-existent God.
I’m not sure why someone (moi) who feels she has evolved on the spiritual ladder beyond the Easter Bunny/Santa/God trinity finds herself angry at said mythical being at times like these.
I’m not ready to accept that karma could have been at play, even though I believe in karma. It’s Spiritual Agriculture 101. Sow, reap, sow, reap. If it’s karma, then it sucks big time . . . but don’t get me started on that.
And I’m not ready to acknowledge something else I feel might quite possibly be true: that the spirits of the departed very much exist, are at peace now, and will be embodied again in another space in time.
More fanciful and wishful thinking, you might be thinking.
But why couldn’t it be true? As Voltaire said, “it is no more surprising to live twice than it is to live once.”
And that’s really the hope I want to share with you today, after the negative post the other day.
Our lives are a miracle, no matter how you look at it. To limit the miracle for us to a single incarnation may very will be shortsighted, and laughable if we do finally shed our current mortal coils to find much grander vistas awaiting us.
We have consensus among the readers of this blog, I think, that no god exists that can save mankind with a simple directive or thought. But we can’t say the same about the existence of something timeless — spirit, for lack of a better term — that is thought by many to reside in and animate each of us. Au contraire, who hasn’t felt there is something in them that doesn’t seem to age at all? The animator is ever the same, from childhood to the grave.
That’s some kind of proof, maybe.
And could it be that same spirit that weeps with all the others who are mourning the loss of innocent lives?
It’s times like these when we realize just how connected we are. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau said something to that effect today at a memorial in Edmonton for the victims of the Ukrainian plane disaster while commenting about the collective shock and mourning In Canada.
Yes, all life is demonstrably and indisputably connected. No matter how you look at it, we all are the products of the same universal seed or unknowable divine source: Big Bang, creation, or a combination of the two. We are all part of the same cosmic process.
While speaking of the fundamental oneness of all mankind, theosophists write:
Altruism and compassion are human expressions of cosmic and planetary realities. Humanity is more closely joined inwardly than physically, and our thoughts and feelings have a potent impact on others.
When we weep together, it speaks volumes about our universal oneness.
In those tears, there is hope, then.