one hundred words
06.22.00

It's six hours away from when I need to go into work, but what the hell. I apparently won't be going to sleep until I write something.

A return to Venting. It's been three months. Did you miss it?

As a warning to my readers who aren't into the religious groove thang -- it has never been my intention to force my beliefs on you, and I strive to keep as many of these accessible to everyone as possible. But by virtue of having a religious affiliation, what I write will be colored by what I believe, and you may not agree.

So if you get uncomfortable when I start talking the spiritual talk, this isn't the Vent for you.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not apologizing for anything. I just know that if I was reading Dave's site and he started talking about JumpGate -- again -- my eyes would glaze over and I'd have to go read Pamie or something.

There, I feel better.

Aaaaaanyway...

There are some have a false understanding of Egypt of the past. Some folks look upon the past and place themselves above it -- these are the people who use the words "primitive" to describe the past. This is, unfortunately, the result of disassociation from the subject, and a lack of complete understanding and compassion of and for our ancestors.

Then there are the others who believe in a sort of backwards utopia. They look at ancient Egypt and praise it for having been a perfect society, now fallen under the heel of progress. This is no different from the previous disassociation with the past, except that instead of seeing too little good, this type of person is seeing perfection where there was none.

And just what is perfect, anyway? Perfect, I guess, is commiting no wrong-doing. Perfect is always knowing the right thing to say at the right time. Perfect is never getting sick, never having a bad day, never getting upset or angry.

The ancient Egyptians weren't like this. No ancient culture was like this.

Ancient Egyptians lied, stole, cheated, assassinated, and sulked. They had sexual fantasies about things they knew they weren't supposed to be having sexual fantasies about. They bitched about each other, gossiped, accused, and were unfaithful. They didn't always go to shrine. They were indolent, lazy, greedy, and some of them were downright ignorant. They did some horrible things in the name of God. They made mistakes on a personal and national level. Sometimes, they even cheated God. Or thought they did.

God reminds me at this point that there is no cheating It, and I tend to agree. When you try to cheat God, you only wind up cheating yourself.

And while we're naming the things ancient Egyptians did, let's not forget that they also loved, mourned, laughed, and found enough things to be beautiful that they had over a hundred words in their language for the expression (or so I'm told). They dreamed, fought for what they thought was right, had great heroes, and frightening villains. They wrote wisdom literature that still rings true to today. They were tenacious, happy, and they loved a good party and a round of beer with friends. They were warm (no pun intended), clever, skillful, and they loved God.

There.

That's what you need to understand.

If you want to get anywhere, you need to love God.

It goes back to that thing I wrote half a year ago, about the crystal keys. You can want power, authority, the right to call yourself Shemsu or Reverend or Lord Grandmaster of the Aluminum Foil Pyramid, whatever. But it's nothing at all if you don't love God.

And to truly love God, you must believe God exists to begin with.

Personal example. When I came to the House of Netjer, I was half in and out on the door of whether I believed in God. I had had some very strong experiences, but I hadn't let myself be convinced. Even when I was ordained, I still felt as if there was a secret part of me that was an atheist. I don't think that's horrible -- there is a measure of healthy skepticism that is necessary, and at the time I was coupling that with my disbelief. The skepticism is a necessary element to me, it's why I am who I am. To lose that was too horrible to comprehend.

So I would lie awake at night, wondering if there was a God. Or maybe, because I'm mildly dyslexic, I was wondering if there was a Dog. Or maybe, because I'm Kemetic and mildly dyslexic, what I was really wondering was if there was a Rejten. But anyway, I felt guilty a lot of the time. I was a priest, wasn't I? I wasn't supposed to have this halfway-in-halfway-out approach, was I?

Ah ha. But she forgot. She was only just ordained. All things come in time, catniphoppah.

See, God wasn't showing up in visions, or fiery gouts of flame. God wasn't dropping golden cows on me or signing me up for cruises to the South Pacific. This was the dark time of my life when I was wondering what was wrong with me. Why I got the silent shrine, and Donna got Aset and ten thousand babbling Sicilian Akhu standing over her.

And me, I got self-doubt.

Something changed somewhere in there. It wasn't that God started talking. The voice of God doesn't pause for breath.

I started listening.

I don't know when I came to terms with my belief, I wish I could give you an exact date. Maybe it was after everyone who had passed away passed away back in late 1998, early 1999. Maybe it was after I talked to Terry two nights after he had died. I can still feel the place in the back of my head where we stepped aside and talked, and then I turned and yelled at Whoever demanding to know why It had let him die, and Whoever didn't yell back at me. Whoever just let me yell, and then told me everything was going to be all right, and meant it.

I felt bad the next day for having yelled at God. I'd never been angry with Netjer before, that I can recall; and really, that's something that may be an indication that I'd made the transition to belief, because you can't get show-stoppingly angry with something that doesn't exist.

That night was probably one of the first times I understood how much I was loved, that God didn't slap Its child down when she got upset and wanted something to blame and scream and rail and cry at. God understood hurt and upset and wanting so badly for everything to be the way it was again. Zep tepi ("The First Time").

But like I said, I can't pinpoint it. I just feel around in that fist-sized shrine that's inside my ribcage, and I don't feel the doubt anymore.

Even the atheists, even if they don't believe it's God. And that's okay. If you want to be an atheist, if it makes you happy, be an atheist. Just don't call me a sheep. I'm a cat. And I like the taste of lamb.

We are not headed toward utopia, perfection, heaven on earth. Heaven and earth were separated for a reason -- if they came together, we would cease to exist. The same problems now existed three thousand years ago.

I like to think that most people choose to try and be decent, within ma'at. I also dislike to think there are some people who do not choose to be decent. Who choose willingly to and predominantly to screw over the rest of the world. They probably will always exist, unless Netjer decided to try the creation thing again. But even if creation does have a reset button, what a shame to throw all this away now, hm?

This is why the Egyptians looked to Zep Tepi. They pointed to the First Time, the first creation, as a second chance for the first time. We recreate, because creation does sometimes get screwed up. We forgive, but do not forget -- for if we forget, we do not learn from our mistakes.

Have faith. Have a love for God. Don't do religion for the rapture thrill. Don't do religion for the power trip. Don't do religion to see a title next to your name, or to use as an anecdote at a party. Do religion because it helps you to love God. Do religion to open up the shrine of your heart, and speak to the doubting voice. Don't be afraid of that voice. It just needs to talk, and ignoring it or trying to silence it will only make it fester. You don't stop questioning when you stop doubting the existence of God.

You just get more answers.

I'm not perfect. I say things I don't mean. I say mean things I don't mean. I miss shrine. I yell at my cat. I sometimes cut people off in traffic by accident. I know that I don't submit myself to Netjer the way I should, and that's for me to work on. No one else can.

At the end of everything, it was always between you and God. And that's where the love thang comes in.

And when you finally know -- not giving it lip service, but know -- that there was never a point in your life where that love was not being returned, suddenly one hundred words for the expression of "beauty" don't seem enough.

-me.