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PERFECTION OF GOD, MAN'S IMPERFECTION
Before my train comes and I jump on it, things got to
be cleared out for the sake of those who live forever in my heart, and as no
word has ever being uttered to them to tell them what is all about with me,
their dad, one they have reached the time when intelligence is up, the time
comes for me to send them the words never said to them, a time that I have been
waiting for so long.
I am not a normal man; not that I have more than two
legs and more than two eyes, and so forth. I got on that Board where Heaven and
Hell play, for the Victor the World. And precisely is this what made of me not
a normal man. A normal man walks his way according to his will and needs,
aspirations, desires, passions and suggestions. And believe it or not, may
times I lowered my head under the storms of the circumstances, deluging over
me, over and over, again and again, sorrow and pain. But it was my choice. I
knew that the path is long and narrow. Of course, you think it a metaphor; and
so I did I, I will not lie on this matter. You think, well, God is my Father
and He will low the heights, and clean the alleys for me to pass as a champion
in his pride. Man, no one can help being naïve. I mean, you are not dealing
with men. God is not a man. You think you can handle His Force and put it at
work for your satisfaction. And you are wrong. You learn as time goes by. It is
so with everything.
I was on that Board at the mercy of the One whom I
gave up my Soul in His Hands. Yeah, this is the truth. I don’t need to justify
me, exonerate me, or whatever. My life is mine, and I do with it according to
my soul. I don’t have to explain why I do this and not that. Am the Lord of my
Life, so to speak. I am slave to no one, I follow no man, I reject any leader
on me. I’m born free. I kneel before no one. I swear obedience or subjection or
fidelity to no man. And that’s it.
And that was. From the moment I freely put my Soul as
a guarantee of the Deal I was having with God, from the moment He accepted that
deal, I gave up the control on my life. Even when I wanted to move on, I could
not. And that was right too. Can a pawn in the board move from house to house
without being moved by the hand of the player?
This inner reality of mine had by itself to create a
conflict between the world and me. And there was no word top explain to nobody.
How could anybody understand such a giving up of one self’s life? Too young,
too wild, I guess, to give a minute to the thought of me explaining my deal
with God. People deal with the Devil. And they get Power and richness and
pleasures of many kinds. Man can get from God nothing but Wisdom. And what but
Intelligence can cause the Greatest of the Revolutions, ever? I had to deal
with Him. And I had nothing to give in exchange. Thus, I gave Him my soul. “Do
as you please. You can turn a brute into a wise man”.
How would I know what will it take to do so? Does the
brute rock coming out of the quarry knows what will be its last form in the
hand of the sculptor? Does it knows how long will it need the sculptor to come
out with his masterpiece?
Even if the pawn on the board sees the game all the
way through and even when it is longing for taking part in the game, is it of
its will to advance? The Player decides when every pawn on the board got to
move. And that is. You know who you are, and you know who is the Player holding
you in place. There is nothing to say, but open your eyes, open your ears,
watch the world moving around you, learn, grow, and hold on, the earth will
shake beneath your feet, and the sky will fall over your head, Death is your
enemy, and will send against you its pawns, but you hold your ground, you are
firm, you know that your King is Invincible, no one can touch you, you are not
born not to be sacrificed but to be a Victor.
This does not mean that you are free from the human
laws. Not at all. But when you are young and strong, no sickness ever made it
to you, nothing had ever got you, it is a simple question of love to think that
as easy as is for God turns water into wine and make a donkey speak words of
sanity, so with you. A young lad sees the whole thing as a kind of magic. And
who would blame him to be so naïve? Looking back the question arises: Would I
had given up my soul if I knew all I had to go through? But this answer enters
in the category of those enigmas for fools : What…if…?
The thing is that the story of my desertion from the
military did end up well for me. Trying to hit me harder as he could,
Michelle’s father found out that I was crazy. I was a free man. I couldn’t be a
deserter, an amnesty had been signed by the Last of the Bourbon Kings.
“What?” said I.
There was one only way to know it, getting back from
Paris to Madrid. I would use my real identity. The frontier police would find
out straight if that was true. Of course that I was taking a terrible risk : if
Michelle’s father had fabricated a lie to free her daughter from my wizardry,
that mistake could cost me six years in a military prison. But the way he had
to treat me as a crazy bastard, that headed attitude told me that Michelle’s
father was saying the truth. And I took the chance. I could not keep going on
the way I was living anymore. It was a road leading to nowhere.
And so it came to happen. The amnesty had been signed
some time ago. I was a free man again. I could finally get to the people I
loved as much as my desertion hurt them. A new period of my life was to start.
But as to Michelle the end came also. I had understood that many years had to
pass before I could reach my goal. I had no job, no profession, no money; I
could not keep her waiting for a future which was absolutely out of my control.
And I cut her loose.
To forget my own brutality I buried myself in my
hometown’s public library. Now and then got me some little jobs to buy me my
kind of expensive books; nothing really too curious, or serious, picking
grapes, olives. Whoever saw me in and out of the Library and sitting by my
parent’s house porch reading all day long, and that is how I passed the next
two years of my life, he man, what could he think? “This guy got no future; he
is never going to make any money”. I had wonderful parents. They could not
understand me neither, but they would never ever reject me; one day I would
rise; there was no point in talking to me about it; I would not listen anyway.
Nooks, books, books, that was all I cared.
Well, not all. This time it was me who got the lucky
stone of love. I had never loved no woman like that before, and I had never
fallen in love again as I did with that woman. It was that same madness
Michelle fell for me. It was real love. It takes a lot to cut loose from a love
like that. I knew I had to, but you know?, when you are in love your heart
feels like dreaming and it wants to picture the world according its desires. If
everything is OK, fantastic. But nothing is fantastic with a man like me. I was
27, she was 18. The storm didn’t wait very long to rain on us a deluge of
absurdities. I can’t recall how was in the beginning, the affair of love, but
from the mountain of book that I have read it seems that our great fathers the
Sapiens in their caves they had not a clues about what money was, and all they
need to be happy was love. Man, I was a Sapiens without cave. Every time a
woman made it to me, or vice versa, the hell came on me. Why? I was an
all-powerful healthy bastard, pretty intelligent too, very educated, happy,
lazy fellow living his life beyond disturbing nobody’s peace. Shit happens,
that’s right So what? Nobody is perfect. Money comes, and money goes. It just
happened that money was not a priority to me. Hell if it was not for those who
saw their little pretties girls by my hand! Leave me alone, men. I fell in
love, not sick.
To fight back the storm I got me a typewriter machine.
I needed to write, to project to the white empty spaces my thoughts, my vision
of the world traveling in time. That was my third manuscript. The first was
dedicated to biblical, the second to geological, this third to political. At
the end of it the number of pages went up to 800. I had a brain salad begin for
surgery. Lenin complete work, Freud complete works, Hans Kung too. Man, I went
through an entire Public Library in a couple of years, selecting essays
strictly dedicated to mental theory and political action. Luckily the later on
division of politics into two absolutist parties did not suite the times yet,
and the authors were not catalogued according the taste of the Government in
office. It was changing already, the Socialists had got the power everywhere in
Europe and were erasing from the States Freedom of Thought and liberty of
Conscience. If you wanted to get a post in the public you had to stick to the
ideology of the idiot in power. To top the cake the Spanish Socialists and the
Last of the Bourbon Kings put on scene, in the year ‘81 a coup d’état from
which both would gain what they wanted most, richness. Some poor fellow paid
the inconsistency of their fanatic patriotism in jail. The Nation was saved by
the Bourbon, and the Socialists Party made of the richest man in the country
their mine of gold. Nothing new beneath the sun. Brussels was ruled by the
Socialists and all blessed the robbery.
The Crisis in Europe began in that decade. The Right
had been ruing Europe since the fifties. The Left was poor. Then the Arab
League fueled the World Oil Price and the European Parties were shaken. The
Left profited of this moment of confusion to displace the Right. It was obvious
that the first thing they had to do, all over Europe, it was to become an
Economical Power. Ergo, they had to sack their Nations’ Public Treasures. A
simple equation of two for two.
When they left the Power, in the beginning of the
‘90s, all the European Socialists Parties were found full with blood. But,
excepting Andreotti, all of them came out rich and
free. Discarding the classical goat ready to offer his head in the name of the
Party, Mitterrand, Gonzalez, Papandreu and the rest
bought their retirement from Politics, and became high public relations working
for multinational dedicated to global business.
I was already 27 years old when I took the decision to
cut loose and go. It was at that moment that she came up with the news, she was
pregnant. Knowing how much her family loved me, I knew that there was only one
thing to do, to take mother and son to be born with me, far away from those who
would kill the baby in the womb to satisfy their hate against me. It was my choice.
My love was already running out. But you can’t keep on making love with the one
you love and then wash your hands. I took woman and child far away from those
who would not dare to kill my child. It was me, the guitar man, and always has
been about me. I bought me a guitar, we headed to the city of Barcelona, in
those days the city was free and fascism had not yet taken over the Catalans’
society. We lived in Las Ramblas during all the
period of our child’s conception. For a guitar man like me to get inside the
world of the street artists was as easy as breathing.
The danger was gone. We got back to our hometown and
the child came to the world. We married for that matter. I call him Israel.
Things wouldn’t be easy anyway. I was who I am and no
one could or can change this fact. People work to make a nice living, I work to
buy books. Yes, I knew, and I know, that is not normal. This is why I said
before that I am not a normal man. With the money you will buy you a car, I
will buy me books. So what? Yes, there was a child, and a woman, I had to think
normal. And I wish I could. But I couldn’t. My life and my soul know no
division, they are one thing. My life, as much as my soul, was and is in the
hands of the One who said to me : “Come up, son, ask me Intelligence”.
What I had to learn is taught nowhere in the world.
Only God could open for me the Book of the History of Eternity. When you read a
book, you go page after page, right? Not in my case, I had given that Book to
eat. It was part of me. And to go through its pages I had to live every page.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
To release the pressure from the world around I took
my woman and my child to the Island of Crete. It was there where my child had
his two year’s old birthday, and beginning to speak Greek. That was right
before the Iron Wall fell, and Greece was still in need of “the Tourists” to
come and work on the fields, mostly British, French, Germans, Spanish and some
Africans. It was the year 1986. Plenty work, life was cheap and easy, sunshine
was all the winter long, you didn’t need to work every day.
I was relieved from the worldly pressure, yes. But a
new pressure took the place left by the mundane criticism on my way of live. A
Chapter of the Book of my life was left behind. A new Chapter was knocking on
my mind.
Hey, boy, what do you know? You know how God created
the Heavens and the Earth; very good, son. A Universal Salvation Hope is
rising; how good, son. A World Unification of the Churches. Cool! What else?
Aren’t you not missing something? You love God, perfect, so what? Who is God?
To love is a reason to stop knowing the one you love? The Bible! Oh yeah, you
know it by heart. King David, king Solomon, Saint Peter, Saint Paul, Adam,
Abraham, Jesus Christ, Isaiah, Jeremiah. Wow, man, a piece of a paper, lot of
words written on it, isn’t? And that mass of papers marks the boundaries of
your world? Break free, son, throw it to the fire. Paper is paper, see how that
paper turns into ashes. You have come a long way farther than anybody else
since the days of the Fathers. So what? Still you are an idiot worshipping a
piece of paper. Burn it down; don’t be afraid. There is nothing in that paper
for you. If you keep moving your eyes around that paper you will never arrive any
further. Tell me, son, who took you this far? The goal of that Book, is it not
in rising your eyes to its Author? So?
I understood. I threw my Old Bible to the fire. Has
God not a History? God has a memory. What was He doing before He created our
Heavens and Earth?
And as I took my woman and my child back to their
hometown I began to live a new chapter of my own soul’s life. I began to travel
straight into the Mind of God. The Vision of His Heart seduced me and turned me
crazy. It was the time to look at His Mind, is it not there that our Memory
keeps its treasures? The final result of that Inner Journey it is the subject
of GOD’S MEMOIR.
And yet That was a journey I could take no one with
me. The farther in the Mind of God I kept going the farther I began to get from
my woman and my child. And there was nothing I could do about it, but to break
loose, soon or later.
It was then that I fell on a dilemma. A Devil’s trap.
If God’s Perfection is infinite, as it is, why He left Himself be fooled by one
of His own sons?
Well, take the bull by the horns. God made this world
to be a paradise, right? He takes a rest, He close His eyes, and when He comes
back this world is a hell. If he is perfect why did He not see coming the
Treason of that son of God?
Perfection means absolute control. You control the
pawns at your service and the pawns at the service of your enemy. You can’t be
beaten. You are perfect. But God was beaten. He meant a paradise for us, and we
have a hell. No wonder that Calvin came up with a theology for the salvation of
the perfection of God. To save the Perfection of God, Calvin saved the Devil.
Horrible as this sound, this is what Calvin did. We are all pawns on a board
where God play on both sides of the table, Calvin said. Now is the Father, and
next move He is the Devil. No one is to be blamed. We are all pawns. We have no
free will, we are but stupid lead soldiers in a war fought God versus God. Just
passing the time; Eternity takes so long!
I could not buy Calvin’s Theology. Even so, for a
moment I was trapped in the dilemma of the perfection of God versus the
imperfection of the world. If a tree gives fruit according its nature, the
Creation reflect the Nature of its Creator, right? Had the creator be perfect
the creation cannot be but perfect? So?
I woke up that morning in London with this dilemma
hitting my soul. There was something I was missing. In the meantime, and until
new order, God’s Perfection was on the wire.
What? Are you crazy, son?
He hit me so hard with a hand so tender that I did not
feel the blow. When I opened my eyes I was on the middle of the road, with a
leg broken and a smile in my eyes. I will have time to think it all over again
during my time in bed.
The piece missing was Free Will. God got to go and let
His people free. He can’t create people at His Image and deprive them of
Freedom. He can’t stay neither around when Freedom is on the scene. He got to
respect the Freedom of his sons to the last consequences. People are nor programmes. God cannot be forced to take a choice against
His Will. So with people. He got to let His people to make their minds. Of
course like a Father He is there to advice and form the Freedom of his sons;
but the Will is theirs. You can’t make someone to love you. Or to hate you for
that matter. And in this letting the Creation to use Freedom at Will is the
Perfection of God.
You get it, son?
Well, He always correct me for my best, anyway. I have
the metal in my leg, ever since, to remember me the difference between a man
and a machine. And happy to have it.
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