When Jesus was Wrong
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
In the depths of despair, at the end of life — it’s the apocalypse. A spiritual death and rebirth. A literal death and rebirth? A time when we come to terms with everything, and the whole universe changes in response. Everything in the universe is connected, and when a fixed point in time and space screams, the echoes reverberate through everything.
These times have us at our lowest and most painful. The times of most growth and change, the pivotal times that unlock everything, after which comes peace and joy and fulfillment…but it’s the dark night of the soul that comes immediately before and we are certain it’s the end. We can’t see anything through the veil — but the veil is about to be torn. Even when we know it will be torn, we must endure. We must feel. We must experience.
The spear pierces our side, and we are in agony. I weep. I mourn. I suffer. I know I am dying. A tiny flame inside me knows this death is a rebirth, but that doesn’t rob death of its pain. The pain itself purifies, prepares, changes my being for what is-to-come — and I hope I have long banished the fear and accept that what is-to-come is what is-to-come.
Facts and logic and reason tell me I was wrong. God did not abandon me. I was wrong. I am as much a part of the universe now as I was before. I have changed and grown. I needed to feel and experience, and cry out and mourn. If God had not abandoned me (though I had not been abandoned — I never can be!) I would have not been able to realize that I cannot be abandoned. I will never be alone, and I will always be connected. The pain will come, and the pain will go — and when it comes, I look into it. Sometimes I can smile knowing what is on the other side, and I may also draw back in anticipatory pain.
We must find the darkest depths to transcend to the heights reflected in our souls.