Love Your Enemies. Gerd Steeger. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Gerd Steeger
Издательство: Bookwire
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Социология
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9783969440889
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right. It wasn't misfortune, it actually proved to be a blessing. The old man replied: "Again you are going too far. Just say: The horse is back. Who knows whether this is a blessing or not? It is only a fragment. If you read only one word in one sentence, how can you judge the whole book? This time people didn't know what else to say, but inside they knew that the old man was wrong. Twelve magnificent horses had arrived.

      The old man’s only one son, began to train the wild horses. A week later he fell off the horse and broke both his legs. Again, the people gathered, and made their judgment. They said: “Again, you got it wrong! It was an accident. Your only son can't use his legs anymore, and he was the only one to support you, in your old age. Now you are poorer than ever.” The old man replied: “You are obsessed with making judgments. Don't go so far. Just say that my son has broken his legs. No one knows whether this is a misfortune or a blessing. Life comes in fragments, and that's all you get to see.”

       It turned out that a few weeks later, the country started a war. All the young men from the village were forcibly drafted into the military. Only the old man’s son was left behind as he was crippled. The whole village was filled with lamentations and cries of pain, because this war could not be won and it was known that most of the young men would not return home. They came to the old man and said: "You were right, old man - it proved to be a blessing. Your son may be crippled, but he is still with you. Our sons are gone forever. The old man answered again: "You do not stop judging. Nobody knows! Say only this: That your sons were drafted into the army and that my son was not drafted. But only God knows whether this is a blessing or a misfortune.”

      I left the residential area, wearing a T-shirt and crossed the street, in order to be able to later reach the beach promenade, from the other side of the street. At over 25°C, it was unusually warm for the month of March. After a pleasant walk, the beach lay directly before me.

      The light brown sandy beach stretched out in front of me, which was sparsely used, as the water was still quite cold and you very rarely see people bathing in the sea, at this time of the year. Only the toughest tourists, probably from the Scottish Highlands or Iceland, spend their nice holidays, here. The colour of the water was blue/grey and changed to a light blue on the horizon, which in turn led to a deep blue sky.

      I can hardly put into words, the beauty that was revealed to me. It wasn't the first time I had been here, but everything seemed to be different that day. On the wayside, lured by the warmth of spring, beautiful violet flowers lined up, interrupted only by the green bushes and palm trees. A warm wind gently grazed my skin. With the sight of the sea and the wide horizon, more and more peace and tranquillity returned to me. A form of serenity gradually spread within me. In silence I stood here surrounded by the impressive beauty of nature that offered itself to me, the music of the waves when they broke and the infinity of the moment.

      I took a seat on a bench, overlooking the sea. The sounds of the sea seemed like a symphony to me, simply reassuring. A light, pleasantly warm breeze continued to sweep over my body. I closed my eyes with the aim of giving myself completely to nature. I demanded complete serenity and peace within myself. But as much as I longed for it, I could not find perfect inner peace. My thoughts were always shooting through my head like hundreds of vehicles on the highway. I tried, as I have tried for some time, to see sense in all the injustices happening in the world. No matter how hard I tried to look at everything impartially, as in the Lao-Tze story, something in me always demanded answers, logically comprehensible explanations. It almost seemed as if I could not find my inner peace without answers to all these questions. Like a restless person, constantly searching for the meaning of life, for the meaning of everything that reveals itself to me and emerges before my eyes. Spontaneously, I remembered the words of a businessman who had a good heart, but who was still an atheist: "Gerd, if there was a God, he would be quite perverted. Look around you! Look at the people, how they behave. Look at how many good people live in misery, through no fault of their own. Which kind of God can approve of this?”

      Despite my eloquence, I was unable to answer him, not even attempting to find counter-arguments. Inside I knew he was wrong, but it would have been a rhetorical feat to question his statement with good counter-arguments. While many thoughts were shooting through my head, I continued to listen, with closed eyes, to the singing of the birds, the voices of children playing, the footsteps of passing people who also felt attracted to the beauty of the area on this cloudless day. Furthermore, I tried to enjoy nature and to bring peace in my head, to find inner peace. I then noticed steps getting louder and louder of a person approaching me. Disconcerted, I opened my eyes and noticed that a slim, older man was coming towards me. I was sure that I had never seen this man before, yet I had an inner certainty of somehow knowing him. He came up to me and asked to share the bench with me to rest. I immediately agreed and asked him to sit on the other end of the bench. With his rigid gaze and deep-set eyes, he looked at me without wasting a word. To lighten up the situation, I reached out my hand to him in order to introduce myself when he interrupted with the words: "You don't have to tell me your name, I know who you are." From a person whom I have demonstrably never met in my life, this was indeed a bold statement, I thought to myself. While I was wondering if I should put him to the test, he returned my reaching hand with a firm handshake and said, "Gerd, you want to know my name? Basically, it doesn't matter because I have already had many names. Just call me Raphael. You too have already had many names, both male and female. The fact that we have often visited this world in another body, is not unknown to you. Although you have had many spiritual experiences in recent years, that many other people have not, you sit here looking for answers to so many questions. You seek inner peace, even though you create restlessness within yourself. You have everything in you and yet you behave like a little child who doesn't know how to rebuild the house of cards. Nevertheless, I will try to answer some of your questions in a way that you will understand them."

      I looked at him and had to swallow hard. I did not expect a conversation like this. The whole day had gone by strangely, what else should I be surprised about? He knows my name although we have never met, I think I know him and yet I have never seen his face before. Since I didn't want to let the dialogue die, I asked: "Who are you?” The answer followed immediately: "Didn't I introduce myself to you?” he said, "Well, you gave me your name, but who or what are you, I still don't know, why should I know you?” He turned his gaze away from me, looked into the sky for a few seconds and turned his gaze back at me without saying anything for a while. "I am, who I am" he said and looked at me and radiated a kindness and warmth that was strange, yet pleasant to me. The whole situation still seemed to be suspicious to me although, in spite of everything, I enjoyed the presence of the old man. His answer sounded like that of a person who boasts spiritual slogans and half-knowledge and yet, I was intrigued by this old man who really had a very special charisma. This charisma, and the special feeling, was the reason why I didn't just get up and walk away. I was curious what was to come.... and there was a lot more that I was about to learn from him!

      Raphael looked at me like he was just waiting for my next question. His age appeared to be at about 70 years of age, yet when he smiled, he seemed almost youthful. It seemed as if he knew exactly what moved me, what thoughts and questions tortured me and yet he waited patiently for me to say something first. There are too many questions that have accumulated over time, to which I would like to receive an answer. But who would provide these answers? For centuries philosophers have tormented themselves with questions like these: Where do we come from, what are we and where are we going? Many people have come and gone since then. Nobody has ever returned from the dead and reported how the world looks like after death and what awaits us there. Despite all the scientific developments, we have never been told in schools what the real meaning of our existence is. Who can provide answers to all these questions? Could it be the old man sitting next to me, who calls himself Raphael? What answers could he be able to give that billions of people could not get a satisfactorily answer to, before? On the other hand: How can he know that many questions torture me and how does he know my name, although I have never met him in my life? Why am I sitting on the bench with this person right now? It quickly became clear to me that my thoughts would only lead to further thoughts and new questions, but not to answers that would satisfy me in the end. The only way to find out if the old man would be able to