Common Ground? We were made for Uncommon Heights!!

I'm thinking of writing another article for CatholicOnline. Today was a day filled with many blessings, all linked to the Assumption and the graces that flow through our Mother to us. Many good thought "from above" today. The piece for C.O. has to be about the health care proposals, and the inclusion of abortion in any legislation that passes. I can't see any health bill NOT guaranteeing the funding of abortion... and euthanasia for that matter. In the City of Man, these are integral components in the economic structuring of humankind--for we are all headed for "thing-hood" when our worth is determined by cost. It all goes back to Leviathan... the book, that is. By Hobbes. The philosophy of the post-Reformation European elites who were determined to separate from the monarchy, but realized they needed a "gameplan" first. That strategy included the same ideology that has brought us to this "common ground" mantra we hear being sung by City of Man's rulers. Common ground... that agreed upon giving up of certain personal rights "for the good" of the larger, more important community... and that community's survival. If people would only read!!! They would see it all around us--you give up your sick grandfather's need for expensive health care so the middle-aged middle-class can have their proper share. Granted, that share is not equal--but their share is based on what they can give back to Leviathan. Same for the unborn. If conceived out of marriage, and likely to come into an existence where nurturing is likely NOT to occur, then chances are the poor little one will be of small worth down the road. In fact, he or she will most likely become a drain on the community's resources. Better to abort. It's for the "common good." Strange how seeking the common good, in the parlence of the wealthy, leading elite, is derived from a search for "common ground." It's the other mantra. We seek the common ground through dialogue (which is pretty much one sided) as we listen to our leaders tell us how to agree upon what is the common good. The common ground is the consensus... what we are willing to sacrifice (where have we heard that word quite a bit lately?) "Can we afford grandpa's hip replacement?" the question is posed. Then the argument is laid out that "no, we are going broke, and hip replacements are luxuries at this time, so grandpa will have to limp his way to the next life. Which brings up the question: What is the next life? Is it something we're overlooking in this whole health care debate? We're so focused on the "common ground" that we are blind to the "common heights" to which we are all called. In the ultimate height to which we are called, we are of infinite worth, for there we are not called to make, or produce, or contribute... No, there, in heaven, we are all just called to be. And by "being" we become who we are... no less and no more. We find our place, our rank--and a peace upon which no one could ever put a price.

The elite have already found their place in this world. And they are bound to it with such clutching might that they won't let themselves go... won't let anyone go... to those unquantifiable heights. Theirs is the City of Man. A tall, formidable fortress, no doubt.

But to those of us who aspire to higher things... immaterial things... this fortress is more like a prison. As they strive to wall us all in, it is our yearning to break out and fly free. Those of us who have lived long enough in the confines of this old prison know that there is more. Our Faith speaks of it. It tells of a place... a city... the City of God... which will be built upon the ruins of the City of Man.

Soon, the common ground may very well begin to tremble. And the earth will begin to shake violently. City of Man will not withstand it. When the walls crumble... well then, perhaps will we have found that common ground... the common footing... upon which we can begin construction of the New Jerusalem.

Funny how we think we're building this huge, impregnable rampart, when we're really just waiting for it to fall, then to show us our human limitedness, and then to become the foundation for the real city that will last.

From the vantage point of our common height as Christians, we sit on a hill... hmmm, what hill is this? Oh yes, it's Calvary. From here the whole final episode would be quite entertaining, if it won't be all so tragic first.

What gods and God remember

Private jets and other flying things
all soaring past on tax-paid wings
while citizens do their vacationing,
forgetting slaughtered babes.

“Why be so sour and ruin recess?”
say the high priests and the priestesses,
“found common ground’ll change this mess:
Forget the grieving moms.”

For these are times for stimuli!
And health care bought by you and I
while economies must rectify…
so forget those emptied wombs.

When autumn comes and we awake
seeing FOCA wasn’t the thing at stake--
but passed, this law calls all: "Partake
in the New Forgetting!"

At least we’ll have expenses paid
for medicines that cause to fade
the memories of how we delayed--
then forget what we forgot.

But they will not now, nor soon forget
(though unending will be the great regret)
poor babes, and moms, and wombs we’ve let
only high priests to remember.

For when gods win come this September
and procedures are paid for in November
that go into women and there dismember
babes in the womb forgot,

remember then, your mercy Lord!
Forget our sins, and our discord.
Your children live beneath a sword,
though pagan gods forget

that Your Sword and other eternal things
bring justice down, while angels’ wings
fly back to You where sad songs sing
of forgotten slaughtered babes.

The final blow

In the summer night when the wind blows
and I close my eyes to picture this
moving invisible something
that cools me and the darkness,

I see a face.

Whose face is this
that I’ve closed my eyes to see?
It doesn’t move.
No blinking.
No smile.
No frown.
All muscle twitches stopped.

Gazing on the face, it’s then that I know where I am called to live
and how long.
The wind speaks it to me...
this cool wind that blows from across the desert.

I know this face. It is vain for me

to ask Whose it is.
It is the face I will stare at for eternity
only if
I start staring now
and continue until then--
the face that I must not open my eyes to lose.

Eyes closed. The world shuttered out.
There,
almost still,
with air touching me
then moving past,
I see.

Nearly still now.

It is hard to love just a face.
It is hard to like a face that no longer smiles,

or even frowns—

a face that doesn’t move

at least for now....

The leaves on the tree stop. Silence.

For now, but for a moment...

...and in this moment
with the leaves still
and the tree still
and the wind still
and nothing now to cool my thoughts
or refresh my patience
or blow away the thoughts of my day
and the dust of my imperfections...
just then...

I see a tear
there,
on the face,
not yet dried.

I reach out toward it,
but cannot.
The closer my finger gets

to the wetness on this face,
the more my hand must pull back.

I want to touch it before it dries,

but more tears flow--
tears which are a gift,
and mine.

Powerless, unable to reach further,

I can only touch these instead,
and my own face
which wants to hide
as it distorts itself in cries and grief.

Anguish.

This last remaining tear--
undried
come out before the eyelids dropped--
was cried for me
long, long before mine for His.

Then in the sad dark night
when the sobbing for a face

that no longer moves
becomes my only pieta,
I feel the wind again.

I know now, this wind.
I feel it,
on my face,
from across this desert
come to dry my tears.

Believing the story
I know this breeze as I know my own breath,
and peace comes.

The breeze,
the air,
that came out

of the mouth of this Man

before all muscles ceased,
as He pushed up

and gasped

and grabbed

and pulled

and tore

and groaned

then heaved

and breathed His last,
complete and final breath
from deepest depths
and past relaxing, dying lips

that kiss the air so-long.

Oh, the Face with the tear
upon which I now stare!
(eyes closed)

Oh, the One who gave to the Father

this kiss,

and yes to us--
of His forever and final Spirit
Holy
Unending
Life-giving

and cooling in the night.