Love

            I followed the light towards the end, where I saw him.  When I saw his face and the light behind him I bowed.

“My Lord,” I said to him and he lifted me up so that I could stand and face him face to face. 

“You are Peter Hawthorne, are you not?” he asked in a soft, calm voice with a smile on his face, yet he seemed sad.

“Yes, my Lord,” I responded. 

“Come with me.  You will be judge.  May I ask, how do you view your life?”

“I was a good man.  Obeyed the laws of your Father.  I was loyal to the Church and spreading your message about love,”

“Love?  Do you believe you should enter my Father’s kingdom?”

“I believe so but that is up to you, my Lord,”

“Look,” he said and I look to see that we were in my hometown.  The town I lived in as a baby, child, and young adult.  The town where I grew up. 

“Follow me,”

“Where are we going my Lord?”

“School,” and before I knew it we were in my high school and the Lord took me to one of my classes. 

“Do you remember?” he asked.

“Yes, this was my math classroom.  There’s Mr. Koch my algebra teacher!  He was also the coach of the basketball team.  He was a nice and intelligent man, although I was not good at math.  History was my thing,” The Lord smiled as I talked about the good things about Mr. Koch and how he was a great role model. 

“Do you remember him?” he asked pointing at the front of the room and I looked to see a boy sitting down.  I immediately recognized him with his glasses, trim blond hair, dark brown eyes, jeans, and his polo shirt. 

“Andrew,” I said looking at the boy. 

“Yes,” said the Lord.

“He was good at math, very smart.  A geek is what we called them.  He liked to spend time alone and often at home.  He never went to parties or social outings,”

“You are not telling me everything,” and the Lord and I walked back into town and it quickly became night.  In the middle of town, my friends and I were smoking and I knew what was coming. 

            My friends and I stole spray paint from the painting shop and went to Andrew’s house.  On his driveway we spray painted “faggot” and “an abomination”.  One of my friends had eggs with him and threw them at the car.  We were smoking and laughing. 

“Do you remember whose idea this was?” asked the Lord.

“It was mine, my Lord,” I told him but I did not feel guilt.

“Why?”

“In the bible it says that man sleeping with man is against the law.  I did what I had to so that he could feel ashamed and maybe get help.”

“The bible was written by people.  Some parts were written before I was alive.  Men wrote the bible, not me or my Father,”

“I don’t understand, my Lord,”

“Did I ever teach violence or to cause pain?”

“No, my Lord.  You taught us to forgive and to love one another,”

“Then why could you not love Andrew as I loved my children?”

“My Lord?”

“I created Andrew in my image.  There was nothing wrong with him.  There is nothing wrong for a man to sleep with a man or a woman to sleep with a woman,”

“But the bible,”

“Was written by men.  I taught love, yet people like you could not love Andrew for who he was.  Every pain that Andrew felt, I also felt.  I listened to his prayers and his pain and I loved him because he was close to me.  While you torture him, I watched over him because he is my friend and my Father’s son.  I kept giving him signs that there was nothing wrong with him and that I truly loved him.  It’s people like Andrew, who feel pain and torture, who are the closes thing to my love,”

“My Lord?”

“Your act made me sad and upset.  You are not the only one.  Many like you make me sad and cry for my Father’s children,”

“Where is Andrew now?”

The scene changed to a senior citizen housing and I saw and older version of Andrew talking with men with books in their laps.  Then a woman came in with three children of all ages.  A boy with a college jacket, a girl with a high school T-shirt, and a younger boy wearing the same high school T-shirt.  The woman and her children hugged and kissed him.  Then another young man came in, also wearing a college jacket and went up and kissed the oldest grandchild. 

“They love each other?” I asked speaking to myself.

“Yes and they will be married within a couple of years, although they do not know it yet.  You can feel their love can you?  It is no different then a love between a man and a woman, now is it?”  He was right, I could feel their love and all I could do was cry because I could not see it in my life. 

“We must move on,” said the Lord.

            We walked back into the light and then I saw a land of what seemed like a desert.  I saw army men and tanks.  I knew where we were because I was there for five years.

“Iraq.  This was the war after 9/11,”

“Yes.  Come, I believe you are in this place,” and I followed him to where I was sitting with my army friends.  We were eating our meals, talking and laughing.  I knew what we were saying, as if it was yesterday. 

“You are joking.  But terrible jokes about the people of Iraq,” said the Lord.

“Yes because they do not believe in you.  They believe in another God and a man named Muhammad,”

“They do believe in me.  Not the way you do, but they acknowledge me.  Let us go to their place of worship,” and then the scene changed to the town and we entered the Mosque.  There were men, women, and children praying.  I knew what was going to happen. 

            My friends and I went into the Mosque and opened fired.  We did not aim at the people, but at their altar or what seemed like an altar.  We made the people leave and then we set the Mosque on fire.  We went up to the people and forced the men to take off their turbans and the women to show their faces.  My friends and I laughed during the whole time. 

“Where is your God?” we asked them.  But they stood there and cried.  Some got down on their knees and put their heads to the ground to pray.  My friends and I kicked them and made them get up.  Told them to stop praying to a God that was not there. 

“Were you ordered to do this?” asked the Lord.

“No, my friends and I did it to teach them a lesson,” I told him.

“And what lesson was this?”

“That there is only one God and you are his Son.  Our savior,” We turned back to the scene and we watched as my friends and I raised a cross. 

“Why did you do this?”

“It was necessary so that they understood your teachings and that our religion is the right one,”

“You misunderstood again.  I never taught violence, only peace and kindness.  If you wanted to teach them about my teachings, you should have done it peacefully but you did not have to disrespect their religion and way of life.  What about if it was the other way around?” The Lord got up and bent down near a female child, whose headdress was taken off by force.  The girl looked no more than ten years old. 

“She is crying out of fear.  You and your friends thought that I was with you.  Instead I was with these people.  You said they worship another God, but the truth is, it is the same God, just a different way.  I was here with them, listening to their pain and suffering.  Although they do not know it, I held them in my arms.  I shared their sadness.  These people are my Father’s children as well.  They were close to me, so they are close to my Father,”

The Lord got up and I followed him to a different time period, but the same place.  It was more advance and the Mosque was rebuilt.  We went inside and the Lord sat down next to an elder lady.  It was the little girl, but now older.  After saying her prayers, she got up and went outside but waited and then a little boy came out and smiled at her.  The Lord and I followed them to a house.  The old woman knocked on the door and an elderly couple opened the door and inside was another boy, but I could tell that this family was not Muslim.  The two boys smiled at each other and they took each other’s hand and went inside. 

“Despite everything she went through as a child, she learned to love.  She followed the teaching of my Father, who she calls ‘Allah’.  Yet she learned to forgive and love her enemies.  Even now, her grandson’s best friend is a Christian boy.  Look,” said the Lord and I turned around to see the town.  The Mosque was next to the Church and on the other side of the Mosque was a Temple.  Yet the people outside in the town were happy, laughing, talking, and telling stories and jokes.  The town showed love for everyone and I was able to feel it. 

“Even those who do not go to Church every Sunday or go to their place of worship still learn to love,” I saw the happiness of the people and they did not care if they were of different religions or if they had any religion at all. 

“There is more, come,” said the Lord and I followed him. 

            We were in a classroom and I recognized as one of my classrooms when I became a teacher.  I worked at a private school that was located next to the Church.  I taught religion and history in the class.  My students were fifth and sixth graders. 

“Do you remember what you taught them?”

“To love you and follow your teachings,”

“That is true, but not on this day,” We listen to my lecture and I heard myself tell them that America was God’s land and that we need to take it back from those who do not believe in him. 

“Why?” asked the Lord.

“America is God’s nation.  ‘One nation, under God’,”

“That was created by men, not me nor my Father.  Do you remember why the settlers came to this continent?”

“They were being persecuted in England by the Church of England,”

“They came here to be free.  Religious freedom, am I wrong?”

“No, my Lord,”

“Then why will you not allow others to find religious freedom from those who persecute them?”  I was silent because I could not respond, “This is not my land.  I never called this my land.  I created this land for freedom for all.  That is why I created people such as George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Fredrick Douglas, Martin Luther King Jr., and many more.  This land is not just freedom for people, but for religion as well.  A place where everyone is safe and can live in peace.  Yet, even in this place I created to keep people safe is not a safe place.  How can you call this my land, my nation, if I was never here and if there were people here before the settlers,”?

“What?”

“The Natives.  They believed in ‘The Great Spirit’ and had their own religion.  Although they called him by a different name, he was still my Father.  They respected the Earth and every living creature.  My Father and I loved them very much for their respect.  We gave this land to them.  However, the Puritans in England were sad so we answered their prayers to come here.  But then they just repeated what they did in England.  It’s a cycle that humans can never stop.  This is not my land.  This is not my nation.  I did not create this place for that.  ‘This is God’s nation’, it makes me very sad,”

            The scene changed from my classroom to a town I had never been to.  I saw a group of kids get in a car and we follow the car to the capital.  I recognized the kids as my students, but they were older.  High school students.  They got out of their car with signs that said ‘One Nation Under God’. 

“I tried to save them, but I could not,” said the Lord. 

“I do not understand,” I told him. 

“These teenagers are a few of the students you taught.  They thought they followed me, but they did not.  You made them leave me and they became lost sheep.  I tried to get them to come back to me but they never did.  Today, they continue to teach what you taught them,” I watched my older students protest in the capital and I saw people watch them and shake their heads.  The Lord walked towards a man with a crucifix around his neck. 

“This man is a priest.  Catholic,” the Lord said.  I watch him made the sign of the cross and shook his head as he watched my students. 

“Besides being a priest, he is a catchiest.  He teaches what you did not teach,”

“And what was that, my Lord,”

“Love.  This man understands my teachings.  He was a good child and now a good man.  I blessed him although he does not know it.  Your students thought I was with them, but instead I was with this priest, sharing his pain and sadness.  Besides blessing this priest, I also blessed his students and his students learned tolerance and love.  Your students do not,”

“What happened to them?  My students, as adults?” I asked the Lord.

“They grew up, had families, and continued what you taught them.  Some of their children continued your teachings; others were lucky to see that it was wrong.  The cycle continues,”

            Next thing I knew were back were we started.  Where I met the Lord and first saw his face with the light behind.  From watching my life and what I had done, I learned that I was not the good man I thought I was.  I was disappointed with myself and everything I learned was wrong.  Hatred and violence was wrong and I should had learn to love everyone despite who they were and their beliefs and thoughts. 

“I repent,” I said but the Lord did not change his expression and continued to look at me with a sad face. 

“I repent,” I repeated. 

“I know you repent.  But I have already judge you,”

“What about the good in me?  I taught and was active in my Church,”

“You were, but you did not teach my ‘real’ teaching,” I got down on my knees because I knew I could do nothing.  I repented, but I learned that it was not good enough especially since I was dead. 

“You are forgiven,” said the Lord but I still felt terrible.

“What is the final judgment?” I asked without looking into his face.

“You are not evil enough to enter hell,” and I felt a heavy weight that was on my chest lifted.  I was glad that my soul was not evil enough for the devil, “However, your spirit is not pure enough for my Father’s kingdom,” and once he said that my heart sank. 

“What will happen to me?” I asked the Lord and then I saw that we were back on Earth but this time we were in a Temple, but not a Jewish temple.  This temple was a Buddhist temple and there were people worshipping Buddha.  I followed the Lord to a small boy dressed in dirty clothes and I could tell that he did not bath in a very long time.

“This boy has no name.  He has no family.  He has a lot of sadness and hatred in him.  Muslims killed his parents.  I want you to watch over this boy.  You will share is happiness and pain.  I want you to help him learn to love.  He cannot see, hear, or touch you.  Eventually, you will see how you can help him.  I leave him in your care,”

“My Lord, how long must I stay with this boy?”

“Until his death and I will tell you, that my Father plans for him to live a long and fulfilling life.  If he is to die before that time or die without love and happiness, you will be assign to a different person.  Until you can help someone learn to love others, you will never enter my Father’s kingdom and you will be stuck here for all eternity.  I wish you the best of luck.  Remember I will be with you, but I will not see you until it is time for the boy to be judge,” and he disappeared. 

            The last thing I remembered was that there was an explosion.  I kept walking until the bright light ended and I saw his face, with the light behind him.  Then I knew that the bombing work and that I succeeded!  I got on my knees and bowed to him.

“There is only one God and Muhammad is his messenger,” I said to him. 

“We have a long journey, come with me,” and I followed him. 

“Until Love can be found, the cycle of Hatred will continue,”