Endless Words
Book after Book after Book after…
The Bible, Quran The Pali Canon the Vedas: So many words
Gathered, all the holy books of the world would fill a library, literally (pun intended). And were we to treat commentaries and exegeses as holy, too, (and many do, of course — and perhaps for good reason) then the number of libraries would double many, many times.
Astronomical, is probably the word I’m thrashing about for.
Yet, when meditation goes well, when the body has stilled, when the mind has slowed and come to rest in its own stillness, I realize anew, and anew, that the truth, the stillness, the emptiness that is Truth, is wordless.
So why, why, why all these words?
And why, why, why no global agreement?
Why, why, why do Muslims kill Muslims?
Why, why, why these hundreds of Christian factions and denominations?
Why, why, why within two hundred years of the Buddhas death, had nineteen different schools of Buddhism taken to the field?
Why, why, why Theravada versus Mahayana?
Why, why, why Tibet’s many schools versus Zen’s many schools?
And why, why, why these thousands of secular voices of wisdom, writing river after river (or mountain after mountain) of books?
When the truth, the stillness, the emptiness that is Truth, is wordless.
Each viewpoint, each sect, each denomination, each fragment shouts its own gospel, sings its own hymns, declares its own Ultimate Truth which then, would it not, adding them all up, mean that there must be thousand going on millions of Ultimate Truths — violating (rather grossly) the very definition of Ultimate, for of the Ultimate there can only the One.
The One Ultimate Truth — the Way Things Are. Truly.
So why, why, why these trillions upon trillions of words, all clamoring for humanity’s attention: Me, Me, Me, read Me, Me, Me.
Why, why, why these holier-than-thous holding forth on a truth they all declare to be ultimate?
And, many proclaim with absolute (a contagious) certainty, if you don’t believe me, you’ll burn in hell. Meaning, of course, that whomever you do believe, you’ll surely burn in a thousand hells of the remainder.
An intelligent extra-terrestrial, spared the evolutionary insanities of our little planet, would take one look at Facebook, one glance at some tele-evangelist, or, heaven forbid, browse our history of religious wars; yes, this alien would not only throw up his hands in desperate consternation / frustration but would in his or her next breath report home, “These people are insane. Can I come home?”
And still they scream and preach and write and publish and send out missions to save the heathens. Still they proselytize (by logic or sword, whichever works best). Still they consider all others to be lost sheep and bound for eternal pain of hell’s fire. Still they pour on the words, the words, the words, the words, the words.
When the truth, the stillness, the emptiness that is Truth, is wordless.
© Wolfstuff