The mystery of the Kingdom has been granted to us in the form of parable. As I am an empirical mystic, my parables come from experience:
When I was a child, I was fascinated by snakes. The fascination came from arose out of a primal fear. I'd go to the library and get books. My mom would also buy them for me. By the time I'd entered kindergarten, I'd memorized many of these. If you asked me a question about most species, I could answer.
My favorite was the king snake. Because it was a constricter that was immune to venom. It ate other snakes, including poisonous rattlers. One day while my kindergarten class was getting in line to go to lunch, I was talking about this. My teacher heard me and he wondered if what I was saying was true. So when he had time, he went and read an encyclopedia to verify what I was talking about.
After the school year came to an end, he stopped at my house to talk to my mom. He didn't have to travel to far because I lived right across the road from the school. He told my mom that I was always talking about snakes. So much that he wondered if what I said were true. He went and checked an encyclopedia. He said everything I said was true.
My visit to the Benedictine monastery was interesting. I was making plans to go during the end of July in 2005. At the time I was working in a grocery store and for some reason my boss gave me 4 days in a row off. After seeing my work schedule on Saturday, I wrote an email to the monastery telling them I could be there on Monday for two or three days. Unbeknown to me that Monday turned out to be July 11th, the Memorial of St. Benedict. So I get there, and it is a day of celebration to them.
I was surprised by some of their practices. Meals without women present, etc. Silence at the lunch, while a monk reads a spiritual work. At first glance, I was kind of shocked. I was sitting next to the prior at the meal. I look at him and he sticks his middle finger in his eye. I also noticed that he would stick his middle finger into the chalice during the Mass.
After leaving, I scheduled another visit and also decided to visit another monastery. While calling up the other monastery to make plans, the guy in charge of the guest house says, "Peter, I'm sorry you won't be joining us." I just let that statement go. On visiting the other monastery, I misjudged the travel time. So I got there about an hour and a half early. As I was too early to get into the guest house, I sat out front and prayed the rosary.
A little while a car came in. There was a time when I was pursuing the priesthood through my diocese. It didn't work out. It appeared to be the priest who interviewed me before seminary. He went in the back door with a file and a woman. A little while later they exit and drive off. Not a wave, not an approach. Not a, "Pete, how are ya?" When I was able to enter the guest house, they all looked at me with fear in their eyes. As I was not meant to see. The fear reminded me of my younger brother (about 5 or 6 years old) when we were growing up. As he was large for his age, older kids would pick on him. He'd come home from the playground - at the same elementary school - crying. I'd go over. I remember seeing the look in their eyes. The look that says its time to pay the piper, and then I'd beat the crap out of them. The guy in the guest house had that same look of fear in his eyes. I didn't do anything, I just laughed it off.
This problem is a universal neurosis. I've met bad Protestants, bad Jews, bad Buddhist, bad Muslims, etc. Things are not what they seem. The antichrist runs just about everything. The bad outnumber the good by at least 995 to 5. And that 5 out of a thousand is, based on my experience, an optimistic estimate.
Why are things so screwed up?
God bless you all,
Pete