Tuesday, March 11, 2008

The Christ Child Out of Egypt

(I took this picture at a cemetary in Sacramento. I took the shot from just outside the mausoleum.)

It's been close to year since I last finished reading a book (for fun). I just finished Anne Rice's, The Christ Child Out of Egypt a few weeks ago. It's a fascinating fictional work by the author. It tells the story of the Christ child using the first person as a means of relating what life might have been like for the 7 year old Jesus. The author did her research and brought out facts that occurred around this time in the Middle East. It relates stories that deal with Mary and Joseph and other members of Jesus’ family. Anyway, to the best of my recollection I remember Jesus first being mentioned, in the New Testament, at his birth and then when he was 12. I have always thought about Jesus and what life would have been for him as a child. I always thought of him as a poor child living in the ghetto of the time and his father providing for Jesus and his family, working as a carpenter doing construction work. There was a time when I though I could be a carpenter but after trying to build a simple table that kept falling apart I gave up on this venture. For a long time I thought I could be a man of the cloth and teach the Word. I gave that up as I did not think myself worthy of such work. Anyhow, these and other thoughts remain with me.

I was brought as a Catholic back when mass was still being said in Latin. I loved the language; I was a "Latin Lover". There was also a time when I gave up on the faith and tried others, then I thought I was an atheist, then came back to the faith. I think that my faith has always been there, I just wondered off from time to time. Several of my fondest memories, as a child, was going to Catechism. I always think fondly of the times I skipped Catechism and went to play with my friends. My mom found out once and she almost sent us to hell for doing that, she gave us a whipping’, that part was not fun.

I think back to my pre-teen years when religion began to make an impact in my life. As a child whenever I was in trouble I would offer my prayers hoping for a way out of trouble. This followed me to this very day like when I ran a red light the other night and saw a car's headlights go right behind me. My thoughts were; Oh Lord please don't let that be a cop. A common prayer is Please bring (fill in one of my kid's names in here) ___ home safely. Growing up I also remember my parents fighting; Oh Lord please don't let them fight, don't let him hit my mother, please make them stop their shouting. When we went without food; please sweet lord please don't let me get caught stealing this piece of bread (or whatever eatable item I had taken). Please don't let me go to hell for stealing this. Please bless my mother, my father, my brothers, and my sister. Bless this food I'm about to eat. I still remind my kids to offer a prayer of thanks when they're about to eat a meal. I still offer thanks even when we're out eating. My kids don't say much about this so I'm not sure if they're ok with this or not.

As I grew older I realized that even though I left my faith and came back, even though I picked and chose what doctrine to believe, or even though I did not feel the need to pray or follow my faith I always came back to prayer and my beliefs. I think the only way I could get rid of my deep faith would be if my soul was ripped off (it could happen… maybe) in which case I could not go on. Without my soul I would have no faith, without my faith I would have no soul, without prayer I could not have any hope. I've always prayed; at first it was for food, clothing, and shelter (and that my parents would not fight), this later changed where I would start my prayers by giving thanks. I still begin most of my prayers by giving thanks for having food and shelter, for having been blessed with my kids, for being able to enjoy what millions and millions of people throughout the world cannot enjoy on a daily basis. I pray for the homeless and the sick. I pray for people that I know who are experiencing ill health. I pray and give thanks for all that I have been blessed with.

Back to the book; I would highly recommend this book. This intriguing story touches on faith, family, work, and things that every child thinks about. Christ the child, according to the book, was able to realize early in life (or at least by the age of 7) what his purpose in life was and to question why things happened. He realized that he was part of a large and loving family. He understood the word of God at a young age and loved nature at its fullest. Turmoil affects us all and the story helps us realize that if Jesus was able to question his purpose it should make sense to us that we too will question our purpose in life and whether or not we're doing the right thing. It's hard to walk in his sandals. It’s ok to question what goes on in our lives as Jesus did. It’s ok to question ourselves when things don’t seem to go well. Lately I have been moving away from ‘organized religion’ or I thought I was. After reading the book, especially after reading the author’s notes, I’ve come to realize that I need the support of organized religion. I often think that I can do things alone but in many cases I see that I need the support of my family and friends. I realize that I need the support of others who share my faith to rekindle that light in my soul that sometimes seems to dim. Interaction with my immediate and extended family warms my heart and brightens my soul. I thank God for that every day. I end by saying thank you for all that I’ve been blessed for… Amen.

P.S., Dilbert (the cartoon) is running a Jesus (pronounced Hay-Soos) comic for the past few days, it’s quite funny specially when Wally tells Hay-Soos that he has a coffee stain that looks like him.



(Another mausoleum picture at the same cemetary)
 
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