Thursday, May 10, 2012

Featured Stories

A Desert Vision
This extraordinary story follows the ancient Biblical literary form of the 'Covenant.' It was written by a Cavalry scout in northern Iraq for the Introduction to Old Testament course. He was serving his second tour of duty at a remote outpost "roughly the size of a postage stamp in the middle of nowhere."

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.


2. Breath of Combat
 ~ by Jared B., who wrote this while serving in Afghanistan as a student in a CTC World Religions course.

"While I was serving in Afghanistan for the second time overseas in combat, my team and I found ourselves walking through a wadi (empty river bank) which happened to be full of land mines. Unfortunately we found this out only after losing two of our counterparts by explosions going off within feet of us. After the first two explosions went off, we started to receive small arms fire from two different locations. At the worst possible moment one of my soldiers was seriously injured losing both of his legs, part of his hand, and nearly losing his life. Receiving so much different chaos all at once, and understanding that any wrong movement would more than likely injure or kill another one of us I truly believe that it was a test from God. I had honestly thought I was on my own, and that I had done something to anger God. By utilizing the Buddhist method of “truly breathing” I was able to remain calm, and elevate some of the stress that was going on around me. I understood that it was indeed my moment of truth, my test. It was up to me to get my soldiers out of the terrible situation that we had become a part of. I honestly believe that by utilizing this simple religious practice, I was able to think clearly, and to remove my guys safely from danger, and in turn successfully completing my challenge from God." 


3. Rites of Passage
 ~ by Steven W., who wrote this for a World Religions course while serving with the 82nd as a medic in Afghanistan.

"I find myself upon a mountain surrounded by trees as the leaves and eagle gentle fly past me.  I strain to see but I am not sure what my eyes are envisioning.  The smoke rises from the distant stream and I can smell a familiar scent in the air from my Native American past. I now can see clearly as my Grandfather is by the stream that runs down the mountain.  The eagle is still flying above as if he is guarding or protecting me from a danger unknown to me.  I am deeply moved by this and thank Wakan Tanka for allowing me to experience this moment during my young Sioux life.
"I’m young and not sure if I can give full attention to my teacher as I read and learn the Vedas.  I am just starting my studies and the first of four books is quite interesting I might add.  The first book is about the mythology of the Aryan gods and my teacher informs me this is the most important of the four books.  My studies are now complete and I have married a younger bride who is within my caste and this is pleasing to me.  I hope to become a great pillar within society as I enjoy the wealth and pleasures that I may be blessed with.  My grandchildren have grown and now my journey takes me to the forest where I will detach myself from the world.  I will meditate and offer sacrifices as I try to make myself a better person.  My journey ends as I become a sannyasi and I am at peace with my Hindu life.
"The country I have left I will never see again.  As I leave China I think of all I have learned from Lao-tzu my Old Master.  He showed me “the way” and I am grateful for his teachings.  I live my life as simple as I can and realize that life itself is the greatest of all the possessions I have.  I try not to get involved with too many of life’s distractions such as fame and power which will bring strife and discord upon me.  I wish that all people would be humble and enjoy what has been given to them and live life day-to-day within the Tao.
 "I find myself back on top of a mountain once again but this time is different.  These mountains I have climbed are much larger and I stand in awe as I gaze upon them.  Their majestic beauty and grace are of those I have never seen before.  They are pure and whole.  A few days later I become ill and very sick.  I visit a lady by the name of Nakayama Miki and suddenly I am healed of my sickness.  I am not too sure as to what has happened to me but nevertheless I am thankful for her help.  As I leave this place with the mountains I have worshiped and the strange healing to my illness I am still puzzled as to where I am.  It is not until I see the torii rising from the water that I realize I have journeyed to Japan and have been touched by the Shinto religion. 
"My journey continues as I cross a bridge called the Chinvat Bridge.  This is a wide and easy path and has many pleasantries along the way.  I am pleased by this but this emotion is quickly changed.  I see another bridge with the same name but this bridge is turned on its side and is the complete opposite of the other bridge.  I am confused and seek to find an answer.  I am confronted by someone called Ahura Mazda and he tells me I have witnessed Zoroastrain heaven and hell.   My deeds are balanced and judged by Mithra and because my life has been good I am allowed into Paradise. 
"The blood from my hand falls to the ground as nails are pounded into them.  I hear a crowd of people coming from the distance.  I see a man carrying a cross and being beaten as he moves.  The crowd is violent and very angry.  They place this man next to me as we prepare for our fate.  This man says his name is Jesus and there is something different about him.  I can sense he is kind and compassionate unlike those in the crowd.  I ask him to remember me and he tells me today I will be with him in Paradise. 
"And now, Iraq. While on a convoy I watched as the vehicle in front of me got hit by an IED.  This all seemed to happen in slow motion as time stood still for me.  As the smoked cleared the vehicle was pointing towards my vehicle and was on its side.  As my buddies began to come out I was counting and to my relief all of them came out.  As I began my assessment I noticed none of them had any significant injuries.  Later when the recovery team came and the area was more secure I had time to reflect on what had just happened.  God had reached down with his protecting hands and saved the lives of all of my buddies.  This shook me to my core and has had a lasting impact on my life.  I am thankful for everything I have and I will never forget how soon it can be taken away."


4. I Was Never Home Even When I Was Home
My war time experience began on September 11 2001 in a motor pool at Fort Hood Texas.   I had only been in the Army for a few months.  I remember being underneath an HMMWV doing a service when the music stopped.   I think we all thought the same thing, that it was just the normal ‘test’ of the emergency broadcast system.  Then it happened; we huddled around the radio listening carefully to the news.  After a few minutes the boss came out and told us what happened, and that Fort Hood was on lock down.  None of us could leave.  
Not long after that I found myself in Kuwait staging to go into Iraq.   Twenty years old and living in the desert, in a tent with no ventilation.   Then to make matters worse, missiles started coming.  Fortunately I only remember one getting through: the rest got shot out of the sky.   The one we missed didn’t land close enough to hurt, but it really shook things up.  It gets worse.   We didn’t know what was being shot out of the sky or what was in the one that landed. Could have been ballistic, could have been chemical.   Not knowing meant we had to live in full chemical gear.  So now I am twenty years old, living in the desert, the ground trembling, the heat sucking the life out of me, and in full chemical gear.  It really can’t get much worse.  After a phone call home it did get worse.  My dad told me that my little brother decided to join as well. Now everything that I am going through he will have to go through too.  This was the first of five deployments. 
Five deployments later I found myself married, with two little girls and this time I am in Afghanistan.   Having been married for eight years and deployed four times since my marriage, my life began to fall apart.  The wife wanted a divorce.  I couldn’t really blame her, I had been gone over half the marriage, and training a good portion of the time I was home.  So I was never home even when I was home.  
This deployment differed from the rest.  On the first deployment I remember being scared, being the first one to run to the bunker when something shook the ground.  I wasn’t like that anymore.  I remember being asleep, and getting woken up to what sounded like hail landing on the roof of the wooden hut.  I rolled over and attempted to go back to bed.  A little while later it got louder, so I sat up and listened.  The sirens were going off, the base was being hit, and here I sat in my bed.   The noise was not hail but a helicopter firing and ammo casings landing.  I was scared, but not like I was on the first deployment. It seemed the shock factor had left me.  
Back to the divorce. While in Afghanistan, I had realized that there was nothing that I could do to stop it at this point.  So here I am in the worst place on earth, waking up to gun fire and mortar rounds, and I am getting divorced as well.  It always seems to get worse for me.  Instead of letting it get worse I sat up almost every night thinking about the things that had lead me to this point in my life.  I asked myself, was I a good husband?  Was I a good father?  What could I have done differently?  It took me the whole deployment, all twelve months, of laying there in my hut thinking about this to figure it out.  When I was home I was not very supportive.   I may have been physically there, but mentally I had never left Iraq.   It took me five deployments, twelve months, and a lot of missed sleep to figure my life out.  I got it though.  I wasn’t able to salvage the marriage, but I was able to salvage the friendship.  I became a better dad to the girls. And I started living in the “here and now”.  
~Shad. S.