Good world/Bad world

More or less, everyone wants a better world. I think that even the Christians (at least I’m qualified to talk about them) who most of them believe in going to a better place one day and to a certain degree despise this world, still, maybe even unconsciously, crave for a better world here and now. A world where things are as they should be, with meaningful relationships, with peace and harmony, where beauty surrounds us and we enjoy it to the full. But faced with the reality of the world, it takes just few minutes to get disillusioned and discouraged. You immediately want to give up on it. Even if I have to, how can I change so messed up a world? I’m fighting to survive and doing my best not to hate the people around me, people (victims) stuck in the system of injustice and not very different than me. Not to hate the dark side of human existence (can I call it sin?)

Most of us won’t be presidents of countries and in a position to decide about huge issues of environment, ecology, economics, war and things like that. But the question is, do only those kind of people decide where the world is going? Do I have a part to play in changing the world? When I was a kid, I remember watching those coca-cola commercials with their “the whole world” feeling, with all kinds of faces and people, and I felt for the world, I had a vision that the world can be changed, honestly. Maybe it sounds foolish, but that’s how I felt.
I think that everyone, no matter how small he or she feels, has a part in changing the world. Now, I don’t think I can explain well why I think like that, but that’s what I think. My conviction is that every little attempt to do something good, to change the world for good is not going unnoticed by God who created that world. Every smile and kind word to an old lady, every little gift given with love to someone, every tree planted, every poem written (about your beloved, or about someone who fought for justice), every hug given to an orphaned child, every tap on the shoulder to a discouraged friend…they simply can’t go unnoticed. Maybe they will go unnoticed by the people around you, but not by God.

Having this in mind, I decide to go for it. I’m going to believe that I glorify God when I treat his creation (the earth, the people) with respect. I’m going to continue to do small things in spite of what those around me say. If that means collecting my coins for the Roma kids in the “Little Friends” preschool so they can go to the zoo or have a cake for their Christmas party, or give some money for kids and people in a small mountain village in Uganda so they can have blankets or go to school, then I will start there. And the opportunities are many. The point is just not to stay passive knowing that it matters to God.

thinking.talking.writing.

Probably a week ago I started reading Thomas Merton’s diary, or a selection of his best entries called “The Intimate Merton” (thanks to my finish friend Laura). I must say that he inspires me. He says some things about writing and journaling, which really helped me.

I’m 32 and I want to write. I want to write but I’m fighting a feeling, or a thought, that there is no point in that. In our time, in these years filled with so many voices and thoughts, expressed in all kinds of mediums, who cares about what I have to say. There are smarter people than me in any area of interest. And it's not only that but many times I wonder if it's smarter to remain quiet and just say few but chosen words.

If I try to search myself and find out the real reason why I want to write, it’s not hard to find that I want to write for people to read what I write. Do I want to write so I can get some self-validation from the opinions of others? Sure. I have no false humility about that. But the motives are definitely mixed and can’t be discerned so easily like black and white. Of course there is also a desire to inspire someone, to encourage or challenge someone, to change something with the writing, so not all is egotistic.

There is something else. I feel like I’m good in different things but I’m not a specialist in one. That is a frustrating place to be cause you don’t feel competent in one specific area and that affects your picture about yourself. Even in theology, an area that I love and I’m familiar with, I don’t have a degree or any paper that says I’m a specialist in that. But on second thought I’m not sure if I dislike that position. Maybe if I’m a specialist in only one area that would make life little bit more boring, who knows?

But I’m in my thirties, the melting pot of desires, visions, ideas, motivations, and hopefully the refinement of all those things is successful and I enjoy life in fullness. Not that I’m not enjoying my life now, but I expect a lot of the present frustration to leave as things and motives are refined.

This makes me think of the present moment and living life in the “now” which is another subject and I will write about that in another post.

Masters of war

This is what Bob Dylan sang in 1963.

Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks.

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly.

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain.

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion'
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud.

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins.

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do.

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul.

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave