Is it Providence?

I was suddenly wide awake before my alarm clock went off this morning and I thought, "Hmm, might be interesting to watch the pope's funeral." So I turned the TV on and I couldn't leave my eyes off it. I was mesmerized and completely swept away. I was crying and was having a lot of feelings and thoughts flying through my mind and I couldn't get myself ready for work. I wanted to stay with the moment and see where it will take me so I called in sick. Besides my eyes were all swollen and I have a headache and feeling lightheaded from all the emotions and the weeping, I was truly feeling sick and miserable but in a contented, serene way, if you know what I mean. I wanted to have somebody with me to share my feelings and my thoughts and that's when living alone feels so lonesome. So writing this blog entry is a way for me to stay connected and to listen to myself and to get a handle on what's happening to me.
It's not extraordinary that I have a reaction to the pope. The whole world is reacting to him as witnessed by this unprecedented outpouring of grief and celebration at his funeral. The glorious ceremony of the requiem high mass in Latin accompanied by gregorian choral music and the rich baritone recitata of the liturgy transfixed me to the joyous memories of high masses attended during celebrations of life in my childhood in the Philippines. I'm not oblivious to the fact that the Vatican is very mindful of the politics of this occasion. Notice the parade of readers from various countries, including that pretty young girl from the Philippines who delivered her message in Tagalog. I'm sure too that President Bush is very much aware of the political points he'll earn by attending the pope's funeral. The media is again in a frenzy in their coverage . They've been blessed by these back to back sensational events, having just left behind the Terry Schiavo case. Nevertheless, one can derive an uplifting experience from it. I think I have. I'm not a practicing catholic, though I was born and baptized one. For me being catholic is not a matter of religious faith but that of culture and tradition. I loved the Latin high mass, sung by the seminary choir with the Handel music reverberating in the buttressed stone walls of Spanish -built cathedrals. I loved the May ritual of bringing flowers to throw at the feet of the Virgin Mary. I loved the dawn "misa de gallo" masses, the 9 days preceding christmas, the midnight christmas eve mass, the feast of the three kings, when as children we hung stockings outside our window for the 3 magis to fill up with candies during the night.I loved Easter, at which time we got new clothes and ate a special brunch after the mass.When Johnny died I found solace in the traditions practiced for the dead, like the novena prayers after burial, which will be done for the pope too. But all these practices is not a matter of religious faith for me. Very early on I found confession to be hypocritical, and I found all these image and statue adoration of saints idolatrous, I guess because I did not have faith. I cannot yield myself in obedience to god's will. I'm of the opinion that shit happens at random. I cannot ask god for help because it's my opinion that it's up to me to solve my problems. I cannot wait to be saved and rise again after death because it's my opinion that when I die, my body rots and is claimed by the earth and returns to its elemental state, and I only live in the memories of those who care about me. So I'm not afraid to die, because I'm not afraid of hell, for there is no such thing. I cannot abide by the way the virgin birth of Jesus is explained, and the cop out of declaring it a mystery, and having believers swallow it line and sinker this way. If they explained it in terms of symbolism and myth I might see the point, but for me it's just soo far out, come on gimme a break! And for them to insist that Jesus really bodily rose from the dead and ascended to heaven, and the Virgin Mary later on, wow! I'm incredulous that learned sages in the church keep on interpreting the bible this way, as if there is really a place like heaven and hell. The clergy encourages that we see these places as depicted in the old masters paintings as real places to go to. That means too that Jesus is Caucasian, never mind that he sprung from the Mediterranean, and most likely might look like an Arab or a Jew. And the religion presumes that sex is the downfall of man and the temptress is a woman. Is that why Jesus is not the product of sexual intercourse and priests are celibates? They can only be holy if not associated with female sexuality. In all the years that I was growing up Catholic in the Philippines, none in the church had ever interpreted the religion to me in a different way. This is how they're teaching the doctrine of faith. If there is a saner interpretation, it is not coming across to the masses, and therefore the church is not doing a good job. But my point of reflection is not the Catholic religion as I watched the pope's funeral but on John Paul II, as a human being. He inspires me. He is a hero. He is pure. He is authentic. He is true. He is courageous, a man of principle, of passion, of generosity and full of love. He is a man of faith and consistent in his actions with that faith, regardless of public opinion or rejection. It seems faith comes out of a mystical experience, and sadly, not everyone is afforded that opporunity or perhaps not open or oblivious to it. The pope's life circumstances gave him the opportunity and he was receptive. Early bereavement with the loss of his mother in childhood, the repressive communist regime in Poland, witnessing suffering up close, facing the possibility of death in his formative years, his religious upbringing and contemplative nature, and his personal talents, all combined to give him this opportunity to experience an exalted state. It is an out-of-body experience that is a total high and utterly life-transforming. It is hypnotic and allows one to be in touch and to be truly focused into one's internal consciousness. Some forms of these experience have been seen in the apoplectic responses of believers in consciousness-raising church revival worship, in the account of born-again christians, of torture victims, of victims of life-endangering illness or events. The experience can be approximated by techniques like meditation or hypnosis, or by the effects of some mind-altering drugs. But John Paul II had more than the experience to account for his heroic stature. He is truly a good man and a very bright and talented man, and he had the creativity and vision, and discipline and faith to transform his mystical experience into an extraordinary life that touched millions across the planet. We are so hungry for heroes in this era of cynicism and opportunism and he is a great one for the ages. I may not adopt his religion but I'd like to walk a little in his shadow, to give some meaning to my life on earth. Let's see if going to a Zen retreat in the Tassajara mountains this summer will be a pathway for me to approximate enlightenment.