Saturday
Delusion. Ignorance. Zzzzzz.
I have been Zooming through The Sufi Book of Life: 99 Pathways of the Heart with a friend at 7am these past weeks. Today we arrived at Al Afuw. “The primary root of ‘Afuw … shows something that has passed through the fire. What remains whole becomes purified and annealed. What has been burned off blows away in the wind.”
When I was in a convent boarding high school today was all about cleaning. The sisters were still in silence. The ceremonial stripping of the altar was all over, and Saturday everything in the chapel was polished, scrubbed, shined, every corner dusted.
It’s windy here today. I went to the AA 11th step meeting at 10am, hauled some hoses around the hillside, sorted more clay tools from the basement. Cleaned a bit. Took a nap. Wanting a break from resistance, from what my government is committing, but how can I stop.
Delusion. Ignorance. Zzzz. Moha or Avidya.
Misunderstanding the true nature of reality, specifically not understanding the Four Noble Truths and clinging to a false sense of a permanent self. Apathy, insecurity, confusion, and a lack of awareness of the interdependence of all things. The pig (representing ignorance).
One thing I know, I’m for sure not going anywhere near the Easter Vigil tonight. I can see the church from my house. Probably will hum the Exsultet, just as I YouTubed the Passion Tone on Friday. But be there? Who can dare to light a “new fire” when we’re still burning up the earth, its life, its children?
Delusion. Intentional ignorance, ignoring.
How, especially this year — Gaza, Iran, Lebanon, Syria, the Nations — can we sit through all those readings, those mighty acts, all those dead Egyptians on the shore? Ha, ha, too bad for them.
Moha. Avidya.
Maybe I should shake off this poison sleep and join the Vigil procession with a protest sign. There are plenty left over from last week’s No Kings. Or maybe something from the Arts of Resistance show I was so happy to attend the opening of last night.
Of course I should.
Totally get it. I was planning to attend the Vigil. And then, I couldn’t.
I. Just. Could. Not.
I showed up at the Vigil, I told Noah and the Flood at the Vigil, I was glad to be at the Vigil. I’m a Biblical storyteller and I think, over time, I’m persuading my Vigil listeners that they can learn from the stories without fixing them. It helps that our context is a couple of justice-preaching pastors.
But, yes, the Vigil can be grating. And I am so tired of the Egyptians.
Jews have not hesitated to re-purpose the Haggadah; over the years I’ve seen a feminist Haggadah and a peacemaking Haggadah drift by. Maybe it’s time to make a re-focused Vigil script? Maybe include writings about how other peoples have struggled for freedom and safety?