Then in the twenty-third year of the wandering a great unrest overtook my heart, greater than the ones before. The Sun was covered in shadow, and the only noise amidst the dunes was the whispering of my own heart.
“Foolish man,” my heart said, “Look upon the desert spread out before you. Life is but the same. Mankind has paved the springs and plowed the hidden gardens which once were his delight. Do you see how the sands shift beneath the marching of his armies? Do you see how each oasis has been filled with blood, to be used as a baptismal font of hatred? Gaze upon the harvest of man’s hands, and tremble.”
Then walking over the crest of one of the dunes I saw a sight no man should ever see. Spread out across the land were the dead and dying of all mankind. It seemed the aftermath of some great battle where no victor stood triumphant upon the field. In every direction lay the broken remnants of countless battles crying out and reaching heavenwards towards the gods they begged for mercy. As I fell upon my knees a great roar swept down from the eastern sky.
“Foolish man,” my heart said, “each of these is a murdered incarnation of some person’s hope. They went to battle against an enemy far stronger than themselves. They fought against mankind’s cruelty, and were killed for cruelty’s sake alone. That thunder is the cry of holy innocence at the sight of such injustice. It is the lament of those who went before; the dashed dreams of those to come. Gaze upon the harvest of man’s hands, and tremble.”
Tears flooded my eyes as I fell upon my face in terror. All day long I lay there until the Sun sunk below the distant horizon. With the coming of night the pitiful cries and thunderous roar died down. Looking out across the desert plain I found myself alone again. Nothing but the first cool evening breeze shared the night with me. Yet I could not forget. I could not stay silent.
“Oh Holy Spark of Humanity which burns within each of us,” I cried out, “Hear me! From my first moments, from the first beats of my heart you were with me. Your flame tried the actions of my youth. You taught me to recognize the same fire in other human hearts. When I saw tenderness and compassion I saw your handiwork. I also came to understand how easily suffering can smother you out, and learned that our own injustices dim your brilliance more than any other. Such a revelation was too much for me to bear, and it drove me to a place of darkness which deserves no name. For many years I fought there against my despair in your name. Even now I feel its shadow, but I found my faith in your flicker, and it holds enough light to keep the darkness at bay.”
“Yet the more I wander, the more I fall before visions such as this. Despite their horrid truths I will always hold allegiance to that which makes men human. Upon the open book of my soul will be written three promises which shall never be broken:”
“I will always love the gift of life that’s granted to human beings.”
“I will always remember the ease in which cruelty destroys the human spirit.”
“And I will always strive to live accordingly.”
To live unconcerned about the suffering of others is to live separated from all others. Such a life is a life of misery. It places oneself in a mirrored box the rest of the world passes by unnoticed. To alleviate the suffering of others in the smallest of ways is to fulfill our calling to be fully human and fully alive. To make war against that which makes war against all is to live with purpose. To go through life alone is a self-imposed curse. To care about another is to taste redemption. We write this covenant upon our hearts the moment we feel true pain. We are responsible to it the first time we cause true pain. It breathes within our actions, our intentions, and our sleepless nights. It is renewed each morning we wake to face the day. These thoughts and more flooded my mind that night as I stared out across the desert.
Sometime towards the dawn I took up a handful of sand. As it sifted through my fingers I spoke to it. “Dust of my past fathers, dust of tomorrow’s sons and daughters, bear witness what happened this past night. Breath of God which blows across the Earth, send this message to your master. Heart of man inside this chest, forget not your inner workings. Homage has been paid this night to the Holy Spark of Humanity. The first steps have been taken that we may never again have to gaze upon the harvest of man’s hands and tremble.” Amen.
(Daniel M.)Then in the twenty-third year of the wandering a great unrest overtook my heart, greater than the ones before. The Sun was covered in shadow, and the only noise amidst the dunes was the whispering of my own heart.
“Foolish man,” my heart said, “Look upon the desert spread out before you. Life is but the same. Mankind has paved the springs and plowed the hidden gardens which once were his delight. Do you see how the sands shift beneath the marching of his armies? Do you see how each oasis has been filled with blood, to be used as a baptismal font of hatred? Gaze upon the harvest of man’s hands, and tremble.”
Then walking over the crest of one of the dunes I saw a sight no man should ever see. Spread out across the land were the dead and dying of all mankind. It seemed the aftermath of some great battle where no victor stood triumphant upon the field. In every direction lay the broken remnants of countless battles crying out and reaching heavenwards towards the gods they begged for mercy. As I fell upon my knees a great roar swept down from the eastern sky.
“Foolish man,” my heart said, “each of these is a murdered incarnation of some person’s hope. They went to battle against an enemy far stronger than themselves. They fought against mankind’s cruelty, and were killed for cruelty’s sake alone. That thunder is the cry of holy innocence at the sight of such injustice. It is the lament of those who went before; the dashed dreams of those to come. Gaze upon the harvest of man’s hands, and tremble.”
Tears flooded my eyes as I fell upon my face in terror. All day long I lay there until the Sun sunk below the distant horizon. With the coming of night the pitiful cries and thunderous roar died down. Looking out across the desert plain I found myself alone again. Nothing but the first cool evening breeze shared the night with me. Yet I could not forget. I could not stay silent.
“Oh Holy Spark of Humanity which burns within each of us,” I cried out, “Hear me! From my first moments, from the first beats of my heart you were with me. Your flame tried the actions of my youth. You taught me to recognize the same fire in other human hearts. When I saw tenderness and compassion I saw your handiwork. I also came to understand how easily suffering can smother you out, and learned that our own injustices dim your brilliance more than any other. Such a revelation was too much for me to bear, and it drove me to a place of darkness which deserves no name. For many years I fought there against my despair in your name. Even now I feel its shadow, but I found my faith in your flicker, and it holds enough light to keep the darkness at bay.”
“Yet the more I wander, the more I fall before visions such as this. Despite their horrid truths I will always hold allegiance to that which makes men human. Upon the open book of my soul will be written three promises which shall never be broken:”
“I will always love the gift of life that’s granted to human beings.”
“I will always remember the ease in which cruelty destroys the human spirit.”
“And I will always strive to live accordingly.”
To live unconcerned about the suffering of others is to live separated from all others. Such a life is a life of misery. It places oneself in a mirrored box the rest of the world passes by unnoticed. To alleviate the suffering of others in the smallest of ways is to fulfill our calling to be fully human and fully alive. To make war against that which makes war against all is to live with purpose. To go through life alone is a self-imposed curse. To care about another is to taste redemption. We write this covenant upon our hearts the moment we feel true pain. We are responsible to it the first time we cause true pain. It breathes within our actions, our intentions, and our sleepless nights. It is renewed each morning we wake to face the day. These thoughts and more flooded my mind that night as I stared out across the desert.
Sometime towards the dawn I took up a handful of sand. As it sifted through my fingers I spoke to it. “Dust of my past fathers, dust of tomorrow’s sons and daughters, bear witness what happened this past night. Breath of God which blows across the Earth, send this message to your master. Heart of man inside this chest, forget not your inner workings. Homage has been paid this night to the Holy Spark of Humanity. The first steps have been taken that we may never again have to gaze upon the harvest of man’s hands and tremble.” Amen.
