A continuation of our series of postings on the early Christian writings, the mystical Odes of Solomon, written in Apostolic times (to be available as a paperback and ebook later this year).
As the impulse of anger against evil, so is the impulse of joy over what is loved, and brings in of its fruits without restraint.
My joy is the Lord and my impulse is toward him, this path of mine is beautiful.
For I have a helper–the Lord; he has generously shown himself to me in his simplicity, because his kindness has diminished his dreadfulness.
He became like me in order that I might receive him; in form he was considered like me so that I might put him on.
And I trembled not when I saw him, because he was gracious to me.
Like my nature he became that I might learn him, and like my form that I might not turn back from him.
The Father of knowledge, is the Word of knowledge.
He Who created wisdom, is wiser than his works.
And he Who created me when yet I was not, knew what I should do when I came into being.
Wherefore he pitied me in his abundant grace, and granted me to ask from him and to receive from his sacrifice.
For he it is Who is incorruptible, the perfection of the worlds and their Father.
He has allowed him to appear to them that are his own, in order that they may recognize him that made them, and not suppose that they came of themselves.
or knowledge he hath appointed as its way; he hath widened it and extended it and brought it to complete perfection.
And has set over it the traces of his light, and I walked therein from the beginning even to the end.
For by him it was wrought, and he rested in the Son.
And for its salvation he will take hold of everything; and the Most High shall be known in his Saints.
To announce to those that have songs of the coming of the Lord, that they may go forth to meet him and may sing to him, with joy and with the harp of many tones.
The Seers shall go before him, and they shall be seen before him.
And they shall praise the Lord for his love, because he is near and seeth.
And hatred shall be taken from the earth, and along with jealousy it shall be drowned.
For ignorance hath been destroyed upon it, because the knowledge of the Lord hath arrived upon it.
Let the singers sing the grace of the Lord Most High, and let them bring their songs.
And their heart shall be like the day, and like the excellent beauty of the Lord their pleasant song.
And let there be nothing without life, nor without knowledge nor dumb.
For (the Lord) hath given a mouth to his creation, to open the voice of the mouth towards him, and to praise him.
Confess ye his power, and show forth his grace. Alleluia.
Ode of Solomon 7
There was an old vaudeville routine where someone would be telling news to another. At one point, the hearer would say: “That’s good,” and the narrator would say: “No, that’s bad,” and continue on to explain. Later the hearer would comment “That’s bad,” and the narrator would contradict and say, “No, that’s good.” And so it would go on: “That’s good,” “No, that’s bad,” That’s bad,” “No, that’s good,” until the end which was always “bad.”
In junior high school I heard a joke version that began: “Fortunately, a man was flying in an airplane; unfortunately, the engine quit; fortunately, he had a parachute; unfortunately, the parachute did not open;” and it, too, went on to end most unfortunately.
This is really the way of most religion. No matter how positive the initial statements may be, fear and condemnation get injected somewhere along the line, ultimately resulting in a conviction of incapacity and unworthiness.
Schizophrenic religion
A few years ago on the internet I found a website that expounded the innate perfection of all sentient beings, affirming that liberation was the natural goal of all humanity. Then it went on to fulminate and fume against anyone who dared to disbelieve their One and Only True Master, describing the eternal darkness and suffering that would be the lot of unbelievers. That was awful, but worse was to come: the horrendous fate of disciples who dared to read anything but the Master’s writings or to even walk into a building owned by another spiritual organization. There was a lot of talk about how the Master mystically implanted some kind of enlightenment device (I am not joking or satirizing) in the astral bodies of all disciples, and how these devices would become deformed if the disciple committed the crimes just mentioned, or even began to question the Master’s words. As a result they, too, would wander eternally in darkness and pain, but it would be much worse than that of the unbelievers.
I have found this malignant schizophrenia in virtually every spiritual group I have met or made the mistake of joining. Things are all smiles and sunshine at the first, eventually developing into clouds, rain, thunder, lightning, and terror. Bad You! Bad You! Another version of: Bad Dog! Bad Dog!
In Pilgrim’s Regress, C. S. Lewis satirizes this by having someone tell a tenant how much–oh, how much–the landlord loves his tenants. So much so, that the landlord had prepared a pit of fire for any tenant that insulted his love by breaking the rules. So, the messenger concluded, we must all love the landlord very much and trust in his love so he will not torture us in the fire pit–something he very much did not want to do. Is it any wonder that so many “true believers” are crazy in a part of their mind?
