The Questions of Saints

How many saints, whose words were filled with God's gospel of grace and love, were forever silenced by this hate filled world? If we believe the scriptures’ promise of persecution, and its life changing message of forgiveness, how often were truly meek and kind people cast out by a society that is aroused by strength, and who lusts for control?


Did those saints die in quiet questioning, asking themselves if they could possibly hold any worth in a world that derives value from how many people sit under you, how many you've used or can use?


How many saints had memories and dreams destroyed because they chose to serve their oppressors rather than fight them, and yet whose words of love and encouragement were heard as insult to ears who longed for sin?


How many friendships were severed, traditions broken, and histories forked by people who loved imperfectly meeting people who had perfected their sin?


How many times has the spirit of Christ been crucified?


And how many saints bear one thorn in their side and eventually are brought under by it? How many hear so frequently that they are worthless outside of their utility and find themselves believing it, even if for just a few moments?


Is this life not an eternal torment for those who pursue righteousness? Is the pursuit of righteousness not akin to Sisyphus? If the goal is only achievable to those greater than man, does not the weight of our sin come rolling back over us once we believe we've gotten near the conclusion?


Is this not torment?




And what sin is there in accepting weakness, other than exerting the one aspect of control a weak man has in this world, the ability to take his own life?


How many saints have we lost due to our own desires for comfort?


When we create a yin and yang, doesn't the light begin to question if its vision is inverted and it was truly the dark all along? If they are always in balance, are they not equivalent to each other? And yet we imagine light will have victory in the dark, while meanwhile pushing the shadow further. Are we not the ones with inverted vision? And yet we blame the saints.


We call them cowards.


We lead them to their own self righteous crown of thorns as they tear themselves away from the only people who even nearly loved them, and then we blame them. We blame them for their evil, for their weakness, for their unending idealism that reminded them daily that this could be better.


Meanwhile we fund those who create a gospel of self worth that tells us the love we receive from Christ gives us the freedom to remain stagnant to our sin. They are strong people, they speak eloquently, they have inspiring thoughts that remind us of our self righteousness, but if they were the blessed meek, they'd be far from the stage and somewhere on the other end of a hanging rope because we would never love them and Christ just felt too far away, managing parking spot miracles while allowing the prideful to rule the world. How far are we that we believe we've even neared the goal, when the stone still sits squarely on top of us, pinning us to our place of origin?


**Somewhat inspired by Ecclesiastes and the film Crimes and Misdemeanors.

|| Posted by Alex ||