Part Three of
"Puebla"
3rd Movement
Homily: "It Seems To Me"
"It seems that you and I could change the world together;
We could make it better by being truly who we are.
It seems to me, together, we could learn to love a stranger,
Nullify the danger that confronts us near and far.
"It seems to me, if we could see the wounds that must be healed,
We'd move our hearts to yield the compassion that they bear.
It seem to me the world could be a garden filled with laughter,
To blossom ever after with a beauty all could share.
"At night I dream, and in my dream above the hills I'm flying;
Tears of joy I'm crying from the depth of love I feel
As I descend a hand I lend to one whose fingers fashion
Understanding and compassion, with a touch that surely heals.
"And in the end I find, my friend, 'tis you, my sister/brother.
We find in each other strength we need to carry on.
And in your eyes I realize the joy I find in living.
Now, in wonder and thanksgiving I arise to greet the dawn."
Reflection: "Deux Gymnopèdie d'Embry"/"Chambre Tranquille"
(Instrumentals)
Remembrance: "Requiem"/
"A Time For Healing"
"Requiat in pacem.
May you be remembered, not by your death,
But by your life.
"We promise to remember throughout our daily lives
To make of loss, our gain.
Rest in peace, rest in peace, rest in peace.
Shalom, Salaam, Mir, Peace."
"Here is my hand; lend me your own.
Now has come the Time For Healing.
"Here is my voice; lend me your own.
Now has come The Time For Healing.
"I am in pain; hold me.
Here is my love;
Had you told me, I'd have tried
So much harder, been bolder.
"I ask forgiveness; grant me yours.
Now has come The Time For Healing,
For Healing."
Act III
It has been nearly thirty years as I sit here in this cafe in Topolobampo
and I remember wondering what sort of man would emerge from the crucible. Now
we know.
For I have been following him and in fact am researching a book. It will be
called "The Fifth of May" for what he claims to be his birthday; his
birthplace, Puebla, the beginning point of his pilgrimage. But is this place
that seems to be a touchstone to him, to which he returns from time to time and
where I expect to meet him today, le Cinque de Mai. My book is nearly
written, actually, but one question is yet to be answered, which I will ask him
this afternoon. It has to do with birthplace. Perhaps the two newlyweds'
journey leads them to France (Paris?) instead of through Ellis Island. We know
that two persons cannont occupy the same physical space (except perhaps in
quantam theory). But what about the same time? I mean one person ... I
mean .... Thinking along these (time)lines makes my teeth hurt.
The bare bones of his story are well-documented. He readily answers most
question put to him, save about his past, which of course no one would believe
anyway. But I alone know of the years before his "birth", as he puts
it. A man tormented, he wrestled with the demons he created. He would not
escape through insanity or suicide. They could not be denied and would not be
suppressed. And so they must needs be dealt with. He sought the help of
philosophers and theologians and shamans from along the ages and learned of the
shadow part of him, that place where darkness dwells and to whence the demons
must be consigned, always a part of him.
The despair he visualized as a wall before him that he must walk through.
He entered it, merged with its molecules, savored its acrid sweetness, became
it yet holding fast to the image of a beyond...
...and when he emerged into the light he sought, then found that small,
still center within himself and made it his home. Having acquired some small
number of possessions over time he now proceeded to divest himself of them until
what remained were the clothes that he wore: a simple tunic with pockets around
its hem for a toothbrush, a straight razor for his head and face and whatever
small items might temporarily come into his possession; cotton trousers and
undergarments, canvas shoes, and these convictions: that he would bring no
avoidable harm to any person or creature, directly or indirectly; that he would
not speak unless spoken to; that he would ask for nothing but accept that which
was offered, excluding any form of flesh or eggs or dairy products (he would,
however, accept milk that was fresh and and from cows milked by hand, and eggs
if he felt the creatures were lovingly cared for); and that he would only walk
and never allow himself to be driven or carried.
Understand, he had no agenda. He never set out to do anything, just
to be, in as harmless a way as possible. He espoused no creed or
philosophy, not even his own. But if he did, he would most likely employ the quote ascribed to Hippocrates: "First, do no harm."
Interestingly, it was a child who first spoke to
him, then the child's mother.
"Hi."
"Hello."
"I'm David. Who are you"
"I am a pilgrim. I have no name."
From the day he set out from Puebla on the fifth of May of 1966 he rarely
wanted for food or a place to stay. Otherwise he fasted, slept where he found
himself. If he saw anyone who needed a hand he lent it without being asked and
then continued on without a word but with a smile for his friends.
From time to time he would speak, for people were curious about who he was,
where he had come from and what he had done. Anecdotal stories proliferated and
eventually preceded him. And always what he said was simple: "Love
yourself and those around you and bring no avoidable harm to any living
creature. But do not beat yourself if you do not succeed; you will find grace
in the effort." And they called him Pilgrim.
He never achieved mass popularity but his friends became legion. From all
religions persuasions or lack thereof they followed his philosophy or at least
tried and didn't beat themselves when they failed. And they were pacifists and
vegetarians for the most part but didn't beat themselves if they weren't. For
no one is perfect but does the best one can. And they all learned French and
Spanish and English and even Esperanto (or at least tried) since Pilgrim was
fluent in all four but preferred Esperanto because it was the least
nationalistic and only complained (or what for him constituted complaining but
was merely remarking) that it was too Western-centric. And they called
themselves, Christians and Buddhists and Jews and atheists alike,
neo-Universalists with an afinity towards Unitarians and liberation-theological
Catholics whom they thought were pretty cool.
Then the first Village appeared.
It was a simple idea, really, but it took a very wealthy developer to pull
it off. She met Pilgrim and he changed her life, but gradually, in small
increments and after a while she realized it wasn't enough. This required
radical surgery. So she planned and saved and schemed and then, with the help
of some pretty interesting bedfellows, launched it. At first she asked and
cajoled but the word got around and in the end she had to turn away a multitude.
Everyone wanted to be part of the experiment.
Here's how it works:
What services and facilities and institutions constitute a self-contained
community? What then is the smallest population that will support it? Now
build it vertically, with as much interior space open to air and direct or
indirect sunlight with indoor green and growing things. Surround it with parks
and community gardens and orchards and a small poultry and dairy farm (for eggs
and milk only—featuring free-range chickens and cows milked by hand). It
was to be a marvel of renewable energy, recycling and minimal packaging and in
general be aggressively environment-friendly. Built in an unincorporated area
it became its own town with school, town hall, courthouse and police force
(itself a marvel of compassion, respect, courtesy and discipline). And from the
beginning residents were actively recruited and were asked only to follow
Pilgrim's philosophy as best they could. And to not beat themselves when they
failed. And find grace in the effort.
It took many years to come into being but as it grew and others became aware
of it slowly became a movement that spread across the continent. Where
developers could not be persuaded (and they who could be were rare indeed!) or
towns coopted, neighborhoods were re- thought and re-designed or just loose
communities formed.
And one institution formed with them: a discreet computer network called the
NeoUniNet with the inappropriately catholicly acronymed "the NUN" and
there is where the final step began.
It doesn't matter in which village it originated, only that it did and once
begun the movement was inexorable. It was not an original thought but now the
means and facility to achieve it existed. The notion of a peace army was based
on the idea the war is fundamentally stupid. No soldier in her or his right
mind wants to go into battle. A person or a group of people talk other
people into fighting for land or power or wealth that they really don't need
anyway and a lot of people get killed and a lot gets destroyed in the process.
And all this is made possible by the fear, ignorance and manipulation of a large
number of citizens who should know better than to want to kill or be killed for
another's amusement.
So you have this war going on. What would happen if a pacifist army went in
as witnesses for peace, placed themselves in the line of fire. They'd get
killed, naturally. Same as the poor person who goes charging with rifle and
bayonet but with a little different perspective and attitude and conviction.
Every warrior is prepared to die. Every warrior. But what does
your death leave behind? A transitory victory, more war, rancor and thirst for
vengeance? Every soldier says they're willing to die for their country. What
about dying for humanity? Can it be less noble?
So today we have 1,034 neo-Universalist communities in one form or another
with a base group of pacifists of nearly 23 million throughout the world, all
linked by the NUN. Pick a training base, any training base. And train and
discipline.
There is a particularly virulent war going on in Eastern Europe. You have
heard so much of it that I needn't even name it, except to say that the enmity
there goes back two thousand years to the time of Sparticus and the slaves that
escaped and to where and of the man of a certain ethnicity who betrayed them.
This will be their first trial. Many will certainly die; the idea of fighting
hatred with understanding and compassion may not. It may go down in history as
the greatest folly of engagement of all time. But then it goes to the heart of
how one wishes to be remembered and what one hopes to leave behind. Four
thousand and eight hundred pacifist troops hope to live and are terrified of
dying but believe that Pilgrim is right in more than just principle.
And now, having out-maneuvered the bureaucrats they are massed on the Balkan
border, poised for action and awaiting the command. And here I sit waiting for
Pilgrim in this cafe in this far-away land.
When he sits down at my table I am barely aware of his arrival. He smiles
at me.
"How are you, my brother?" he asks in Esperanto.
"Fine, I guess," I reply in kind. "I keep trying. How about
you?"
"Well, I'm here," he says, not just talking geography.
We chat idly, but mostly just sit and gaze at the harbor. For the first
time in years I see a faint echo of that overwhelming sadness I once saw in his
eyes that August in 1964 and it is elicited by mention of the Peace Force.
"They're not your responsibility," I tell him.
"Daniel, you know better than that," he finally smiles.
His refreshments appear almost magically, but I'm used to that. I know that
there are several hundred people waiting nearby to talk to him or just to look
at him but they do not make their presence felt, and I'm almost used to that
too.
"Do you still carry my scribblings with you?" I pull them from my
belt pouch, carefully wrapped in plastic. "But do you believe it yet?"
I just smile non-commitally.
There has been One Question on my mind ever since I met Pilgrim. Twice he
has asked me, once in French (so he says) and once in English, right here in
Topolobampo. Then the answer was more or less simple. By now I beleive we have
both figured out the Answer. But I need to hear it from him.
After a few moments more I sense it is finally time and so I ask the One
Question.
"Mon frere, qui est toi?"
"Mon frere, I am you."
4th Movement
Sanctus: "Sing Hosanna!"/
"Sing the Great ‘I Am!'"
"Sing Hossana, sing Hossana
In excelsis deo.
"Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus, spirit of power and might
Heaven and earth are filled with the glory
"Sing Hossana, sing Hossana
In excelsis deo.
"Blessed are they who come in the name of the Lord
Hosanna in the highest!
"Alleluia, alleluia,
Sing the great "I am!"
We sing the great "I am!"
Let us sing the great Amen!"
Meditation/Celebration: "Thanksgiving" (instrumental)/
"Harmony, Peace & Joy!"
"Harmony, Peace & Joy!"
Closing Prayer: "I Say Yes!"
"To you, Spirit, I say yes!
To you, Spirit, I say yes!
"All light surrounding, all love abounding
All of creation, sings along.
All grace confounding, all voices sounding,
Manifested in song.
"To you, Spirit, I say yes!
To you, Spirit, I say yes!
I say yes! I say yes! I say yes!"
Write me.
I'd like to hear from you!
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