Once, it was said, the Buddha looked into the future and wept at the sorrows and strife he saw there. It doesn't matter if the tale is true or not. It's just a truth anyone might acknowledge.
This morning has been a morning of various tears for me. A friend wrote and painted a picture of the Vatican-sexual-abuse he and others had suffered in the past. Another friend wrote to say that his dog -- a big, burly, wonderfully loving dog -- was very sick. And then there was the depiction (noted below) of fellow Americans (and they are hardly alone) squeezed and water-boarded by a lack of employment.
Tears. Some people make a mewling profession out of their vast sensitivities to the world and I don't intend to do that. Others make a profession out of sidestepping the tears of the world and I don't intend to do that either.
But I do think there is a need to enter the sorrows of the world. Without that ability, how could anyone shed the requisite tears for themselves ... and then dry those tears and apply the same yardstick to the laughter and love?
A vastly forgiving and healing god doesn't impress me much.
Living an honest life does.
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