Where do I put my cross?

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Good Friday.

This year I see those who think not Cross but cross.  Who are driven by where I will plant my cross the next time I vote.  Who see numbers not of death and sacrifice, but of percentages this way or that.  Who must have the numbers on their side.  Who live by the cross more for than against.

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Trump springs to mind.   The terrible-twos.  A temper tantrum for anyone-everything.

But China is not immune.  Nor Europe.  Not the UK.  No country is immune.  Because every country’s politicians-government-machine know only one thing: stay in power until they take it from us.   And “power” depends on me and where I plant my cross.

Trump’s terrible-twos make great television.  So does a shadowy-secret-silencing in a country far away.  Along with the “Will you resign?” media-playground-chant in every crisis.  Every country has its politicians just as every country has its media.

And they all live to influence where we plant our cross.

 

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Religion and faith are no different.  Each seeking my cross in their camp.

This year I see not Cross but cross.  A great festival of Cross for my cross.  And so embedded in the political-secular-cultural fibre of any “Christian country” that we ALL  enjoy this long-weekend of down-time: faithful AND faithless all the same.  Just divided by a Cross.  The same as politicians divide us by a cross.

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Have you noticed we ALL use the same language?

I am asked to sacrifice this weekend by staying at home.  The weather is warm, the down-time is long, and the tradition of sitting in traffic-jams is calling me, but  …

My sacrifice and burden is for the greater good.  My staying at home and not chasing this long-weekend tradition is saving lives.  It is the same language.  Of flattening the curve numbers of the dying by staying at home – just as the call to prayer is of upping the curve of numbers of believers by not sitting on my couch at home (usually).

Everyone is after my Cross-cross.

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Except One.

The One who was and is Love.  The One who taught Love by being Love.  The One who could have ruled an empire but didn’t.  The One who’s time in the spotlight was less than one-single-political-term-of-office … yet look at us today: faithful AND faithless ALL enjoying the sun on this religious-bank-holiday-long-weekend..

Religious-Bank-Holiday.  

Says it all really.

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God Soft Hands Jesus isn’t after either my Cross or my cross.  GSHJ was and is Love.  And Love allows.  Love invites.  Love frees and Love unchains.

Yet as politicians play the numbers so too this Religious (Bank) Holiday plays to my binding.  To a belief and a brand.  To a dogma and ology of “stuff”.  The stuff of a correct bible and a correct belief and all demonstrated by my correct lifestyle.

Yet we mock (or idolise) Trump … we mock (or idolise) a totalitarian control structure …  we mock those who chase our cross above all else (whilst chasing those to chase this correct Cross above all else).

Love does not.

Love is not of a Cross OR a cross.  Love is NOT “correct”.  Love is NOT a belief.  Love is NOT even a lifestyle.  Love does NOT run the numbers.  Love does NOT seek my  cross.  Love is.

Love just “is”.

(or is not)

So today I see neither cross nor Cross.

I am Love.

(or I am not)

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