Hail, master, and behold thy servant! Or would I presume to call myself thy friend? No, no I wouldn't. The best for one such as me would be to never have been born. Didn't you say that once? Yes, I know you did. And yet here I stand, of mine own accord too, but none of mine is mine. For all things belong to the Father but where is he? The world is silence, and your spirit moving upon the face of the waters is a breeze over a rain puddle. Maybe all things belong to the Son then but I make no sense of any of his four strange biographies. Still, why do I keep on trying? Is it even smart to do so? I don't know... That leaves only the Holy Spirit, which I never once understood nor has it ever moved me, and as for those who profess to have been moved by it I both greatly despise and envy. So what am I even saying here? Why am I even talking to you, again and in this darkness? I suppose I fear the hour, yea, the hour cometh when the world shall scatter, and shall leave me all alone, and when it does I like to think at least you'll care. But you won't, will you? You don't care about me, and were I a better man I'd ask you to care about someone much more deserving. But I'm not, I'm a jealous man. Thou shalt have no other sinners before me... Such would have been my commandment unto you. And if I couldn't have all of your love to myself then I would have betrayed you unto Caesar for fifteen pieces of silver... If I can't have you, if heaven has been denied to me, if nothing but nothingness awaits my spirit, I will want to seize the world instead, I'll gorge on that silver, I'll wallow and rejoice in perpetual riotous living, I'll surrender to this world, oh so completely too, and when I go I'll take as much of it with me as I possibly can. And yet, nothing of this world is ever given unto me, it all just passes me by... Sometimes I wonder how much of it is even real.
No, I could not watch with you, not even one hour. That day has come and gone. Sorry I'm late... But I promise to think of you every year when these days come around, one day for the trial and another for the cross, but it's almost a joke to do so. Here I am talking to myself, and the truth is that nobody cares, no, they just don't give a damn. Why did I think you'd be any different? You don't care... Are you even listening to me? Do you know my thoughts before I know them? Tell me what you think then, you tell me of all things while I draw of all waters. Have I written nicely? Have I been respectful to you? Probably not. I've blasphemed more than I know or care to remember. Of the good things I do have, I deserve fewer, of the good things I don't have, I deserve none. And the greatest thing I lack, the greatest thing of all things, is love... That's what you're all about, isn't it? But if I'm not meant to ever have your love, then fine, you keep it. I'll take your hatred instead, I'll fully rejoice in it, I'll be a serpent where Eden once stood, I'll be the worst of the canaanites and the pharisees, I'll be a crow perched over a tree branch, I'll be a hyena hungry for guts spilled over the desert sands. You'll hate me and then you'll punish me, and with righteous anger too. I can take the pain though, it simply makes sense to me at this point, the rod has not been spared. It's the silence I can't take, so why oh why does it have to be so much of it? Bring us a new word, renew your covenant with us, walk through the desert and the cities once again, and perform two or three more miracles. For I am demon-possessed, I am seventy legions times seven, I am blind and deaf, and behold, I'm a leper too! So cleanse me, if you are willing... But I lack the faith of a leper, and the mites of a widow, and the innocence of a little child. Return unto us, unto me, and I promise to try. You'd have my coat and my cloak, I'd find you a bountiful fig tree, and if you strike me I'll turn the other cheek. I won't ever deny you once, let alone thrice, unlike some people...
But what are all those promises? Maybe no more than vain falsehoods, maybe I bear false witness, before you no less. The hour drew near when your most trusted disciples would leave you alone, and what do you know, they really did. They were far better men than me too, so in truth I guess I wouldn't hold to you, I'd just wish you luck and render you unto Caesar. So tell me, what did you go to that cross to find? Did you like the view from up there? I'm told all in all it was a beautiful place but I hear it got real ugly around the sixth hour or so. Did you see me there? Did I cross your mind?... Wait, don't tell me, you'll only make me cry... I bet I could have called you out by name and you'd just pass me by, just like the rest of them. And I don't know what hurts more – to never be loved or to be loved all at once... I must confess I never thought I'd be the type of mental weakling who would need you. Indeed, I liked to make fun of those who needed you, and now look at me, turning the pages of old books in search of a friend. I guess now I understand those meek ones I so vehemently persecuted, but I'm not sure I'll ever relate to them for I never quite understood faith, I don't know how people have it or where it even comes from. It's as if they can't help but to have it, whereas poor old me has nothing to draw water with. And through faith all their works are possible, even the miracle of living a life with meaning. Life simply makes sense to them, and I think to myself, gee, isn't that something? Because I can't remember the last time life made any sense to me. If you are the way, the truth, and the life, then how can I make any sense of you? I don't know where I'm going, I don't know what I believe in, and I don't even know how to be alive... I'm told your closest friends would welcome death rather than deny the truth of your resurrection. Indeed, they would gladly choose the lions. Isn't that neat? I used to think that was such a stupid thing to do, but now even that I envy, I envy it so much... And at times I wonder, if you won't give me a meaningful life, maybe Caesar will give me a meaningful death.
But I don't know, I just don't know anything no more. I don't know what I'm doing here, Lord... Let's face it, best-case scenario I have a couple trillion years to serve in purgatory after my time. That is, if purgatory does exist and if heaven does await me at the end of it. And if that's sinful then I just bought myself another ten million years. It don't matter at this point. There's nothing new under the sun, and thus the light in purgatory isn't likely to be any different. I suppose it will give me some time to think, but what have I done with this life of mine so far except thinking? I'm not as old as I am, I died somewhere along the way. Maybe I do need to be born again, maybe I need to be made as a little one so as to be worthy of your kingdom. But my innocence is long gone, Lord. For all I know there isn't in the world such a thing as sin, and yet I am the worst of sinners. There's not a single drop of innocent blood in my body. My blood is vile, my flesh is mold, I'm rotting all over, hell, even the lions wouldn't take a second bite out of me... I'm poison, each day that goes by I get sicker and sicker, and with everything I do in this world I infect everyone around me. Each day that goes by I earn myself another ten million years in purgatory, or if that's just a fantasy then I feed hell with another mouthful of sins. This is all cruelty, it's all stupid and senseless. If suffering and tribulation have to exist in this world, then why do you withhold the reason for it? Give me something to help me go on, show me a sign, deal me a good card for once. If you just won't, if you just aren't so inclined, then at least send me a good dream for a change. I don't even ask for a revelation, that would never be meant for one such as me, I was never cut out to be an apostle or a disciple, not even a believer, let alone a godly prophet. No, I don't think you've sent me any signs. Well, if you did I didn't get them. Try again and be clear about it, hit me over the head with it... What's with all the indifference? What's with all the patience? What's with all the silence? Just do something! And yes, I know what a hypocrite I am to give you that piece of advice. So put that one on my tab, will ya? Or maybe it's not a piece of advice at all, maybe it's more of a request, maybe a prayer even? I don't know, I haven't prayed in years, and when I used to pray it wasn't for anything important. I was just a stupid boy with stupid prayers, but at least I prayed for something. What do I want now? I want happiness and love and meaning, but whenever a chance at any of them comes along, do I seize it? No, I ignore it because I think of what an arrogant sinner I am to assume that you placed it along the way specifically for poor little me. Because I'm not important, you shouldn't give a damn about me because in all honesty if I were you I wouldn't love me. Now that's good advice.
And yet, through it all I sometimes catch myself wondering... What if miracles really do exist? What if people have more power and grace than they realize? What if somewhere in this world lies the spark of the world beyond? Verily, I am surrounded by mountains, and behold, I am demon-possessed! But if my neighbor were to reach out and chase me, mountains would be moved, and if he were to heal and cleanse me, demons would be cast out... Maybe there is no greater commandment, and no greater miracle, than this – Love one another... and that's it. If the temple of God is you and if you're everywhere, then to love one another is to love you. Your religion isn't about rules and regulations, your religion is love, it has to be. The world may never be truly overcome, except by your son, the world is forever pain and suffering, the world is indifferent and cold... but it's only when the cold rises that people huddle closer together. The temple of God can never be a place in this world because love is much bigger than the world. Love is never bound by time or distance, love is the beginning and the end, love is an action, then a feeling, then a reaction. Love isn't a place, love is the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit is love. Love is ever-moving, love is the people and love is the city, love is the sunset and a cold drink, love is the cold rain and an umbrella. Love is charity and mercy, and if charity and mercy are given unto sinners then just you wait, just wait and see, for all sinners will have their time to love in return. Because love never falls by the wayside, love never falls upon stony places, love never falls among the thorns, not a shred of it is ever wasted, for wherever love falls, love blooms. If hatred is returned tenfold, then love is returned a hundred thousandfold. And it will one day catch up to all sinners, as it has caught up to me now... And thus, love is justice. Love is the answer, it just has to be, and when the answer is that simple, what questions can remain?
Still, I'm full of doubt... Is that really what you're telling me? To just love? Am I even worthy of it? And even if I am, I now say unto you, I don't know how. I simply cannot love, and from what I've seen of this world I can't be loved in return. I'm too full of hatred and resentment, I'm too easily riled into anger and envy, and all of my thoughts are ugly. How can I love my neighbor when I so often wish for his misfortune, or for him to leave me forever, or even for him to die?... And how can my neighbor love one such as me? I still don't even know why any of them greet me in the street or even smile at me, at times they even go so far as to feed me. I know I don't deserve any of that and yet, when they say goodbye for the day I want more than what I've already gotten... Lord, my envy knows no bounds! I'll probably never be loved, and with all certainty I'll never be a good man. So if I were you I'd just give up on me, and if I were somebody else I'd never love me. But there just has to be love, doesn't it? Love is a logical necessity because love is you, and if I'm yours, then am I a part of your love as well? Because let me tell you, in this world there can only be two things – love and indifference. And just between you and me I've had enough indifference to know that hell cannot be anything worse than that, a complete and utter indifference... Deep down I know that as fallen as this world is there's still a whole lot of love in it. It's just that I've been away from love for so long that even a shred of it reaches me as a touch of heaven. And to leave the world like this, sad and alone, without ever truly chasing that love?... What a tragedy... even for one such as me.
There was a time when I would have called myself a nobody but now I see what an honor that title truly was. For I am not a nobody, I am real, I exist in this world. What I am is a sinner, I'm a bad man, I'm the selfsame reason people lock their doors at night, I'm the reason why this world isn't a good place. And yet, for whatever purpose, here I am... Could that purpose be love? Is love its own reward? If so then I suppose I have no choice but to give it a try. And if I am to do so, then love will be both my punishment and my redemption. Because love is a cross... In this world we either have love or indifference, the cross or the void. I know because I've been in this great void for so long that I'm not even whole anymore. I've been too far gone for far too long. Can I ever be restored, can I ever be reborn? Will I ever earn forgiveness? Something in me says no, it screams it, this stubborn voice in my head will never change its mind about that. But some other voice tells me that the void is somehow even uglier than me... So I won't wish to one day be loved, but though I'm fallen and ugly and evil and full of wicked thoughts, I have to try to love, and so I guess what I'm asking here is that I'd like your help with that...
And I remember a while back I gave you my heart, Lord... Now I'm thinking I'll need it back. So I say once again – Hail, master... and kiss me.
May 12, 2020
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“The Kiss of Judas” by Constantin Meunier
This has been text number 377 from Nostos. The book is a collection of four hundred texts, most of which are written in portuguese, while only twenty-one of which are written in english. As such they will be periodically published here, in full.
You can find out more about the book here.
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