Finding the divine in The Mooch

My next door neighbor Rich and I have been running a soup kitchen for our local community of alley cats for years. Like all well meaning charities, it began with a spontaneous gesture of kindness when we started feeding three adorable little kittens that were born wild on Rich’s garage roof-top. Once word got out amongst the colony of feral cats that two cat loving suckers were putting out free grub, we soon found ourselves feeding every bewhiskered drifter passing through the hood. I didn’t mind the occasional visitor, but when a chubby black and white opportunist with malevolent green eyes and an attitude began to show up regularly, I dubbed him “The Mooch” because he so obviously felt entitled to a daily handout. Like a character from an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel, he would suddenly appear attired in his shabby tuxedo and dirty white paws, exuding an aura of privilege and disdain, even though he was nothing more than a presumptuous free-loader dependant on the largesse of others. It was a joy to feed the kittens- who we named Uno, Dos, and Tres- because they were so cute, but The Mooch was another matter. Cranky and hostile—his menacing demeanor threatened calamitous consequences if there was so much as a thought of withholding his Meow Mix.  Each day, I would yell at him and try to shoo him away, but he would merely wait until my back was turned before muscling his way past the kittens to guzzle what he apparently considered his fair share of cat chow. It became a power struggle that I had no hope of winning. After about a year, Dos and Tres left to make their own way in the world, but Uno-a tawny Siamese with menthol blue eyes and a gentle disposition- decided to stay within the safe confines of my backyard. The Mooch cunningly seized the opportunity to latch onto a lonely Uno as his steady meal ticket and the two formed an unlikely friendship. While I grew fond of Uno, I never could warm up to his wily sidekick, but grudgingly tolerated him because Uno was so obviously attached to him—which, of course, the clever Mooch was counting on. Every morning, I would be greeted by the sight of the mismatched pair patiently waiting on the back porch for their breakfast—my beautiful Uno and a defiant Mooch daring me to make his day.

It was easy to see the divine essence in Uno’s lovely blue eyes, but frankly, the Mooch’s churlish behavior made him seem anything but divine. After sitting with my judgments for a while, it occurred to me that maybe The Mooch was just one more lesson in my spiritual curriculum. Some soul searching revealed that perhaps I’m more inclined to be kind and loving towards those individuals who I deem as worthy and deserving. I was forced to admit that I had attached a price tag to my generosity according to an arbitrary yardstick by which I measured the value of another being. I obviously prized Uno because he was so gorgeous and affectionate. But I couldn’t stand The Mooch because he was just plain nasty and repaid my kindness by hissing and spitting at me every day. I realized that my judgments prevented me from seeing The Mooch as he is-one of God's beloved and valued creatures.  Eventually, I managed to overlook his character flaws and tried to greet him every day with as much affection as I did Uno.

Just as I was beginning to appreciate The Mooch as a Divine Being having a feline experience, he stopped coming around.  I guess I learned what he came to teach me or he'd still be showing up on my doorstep --expecting his daily handout of unconditional love.  To my utter amazement, I’m sad that he’s gone and really hope that he’s in a better place, wherever he is. I miss the way he greeted me with that special 'hisssss' warning me off every morning. I grew to admire his resourcefulness and came to recognize his surly ways as instinctive defenses that helped him to survive the danger of the alleyways. I can’t say I ever really liked him, but I trust that God thought him up for a reason and that he is made from the same divine stuff as all the rest of us.

Divine Insanity

Divine Insanity

     When I was traveling through Thailand back in 1992, I discovered the beauty and peace of Buddhist temples or Wats and never missed an opportunity to visit the many Wats that were spread throughout that lovely country.  My favorite was Wat Phrathat Doi Tung, an ancient temple built a thousand years ago on top of a mountain in Northern Thailand near the Burmese Border. As I observed the Buddhist pilgrims reverently bowing in front of the Buddha statue and practicing ancient rituals passed down through the ages, I pondered on the Universal need we humans have had to connect with something outside of ourselves since the beginning of time.  The belief in a Sacred and Mystical Presence, whether we call it God, Allah, Krishna, or Yahweh seems to be as innate to our human experience as eating or sleeping. Without it, we would probably all still be living in caves, shivering in front of meager fires in our flea-bitten fur togas, afraid of our own shadows.  

      Yet there is nothing at all rational about faith.  The Buddhist religion that I found so profoundly moving is based on the teachings of a Prince who gave up his privileged life in favor of becoming a beggar and sitting under a tree to wait for enlightenment.  How about Jesus-- a blue collar carpenter’s son who purported to be the son of God with the power to perform miracles. And let’s not even talk about the saints.  St. Joan of Arc was a cross-dressing teenager who heard voices and claimed that God had directed her to lead the French army into battle against a formidable enemy. St. Teresa of Avila was an ex-Jewish nun with a checkered past who had visions and regularly levitated during choir practice. One could argue that, at best, these individuals were pretty out of touch with reality and at worst they were…well, insane. 

       Faith does seem to be a form of insanity which requires us to take leave of our senses because it asks us to   believe in what we can’t see, smell, hear, touch, or taste.  It expects us to trust in the improvable, the impossible and the unknowable; it assures us that God is supporting us, sustaining us and protecting us even when the exact opposite appears to be true. Faith invites us to dream our foolish dreams and to sometimes act imprudently to make them come true.  It asks us to stay true to ourselves in the face of negativity and skepticism. Faith often involves delusional thinking and an overactive imagination. Just think how idiotic it is to believe that man can fly; or that the power of a lightening bolt can be used to light and heat our homes.  

     At the same time, faith is the Divine Rocket Fuel that propels us out of the orbit of  apparent foolishness into the realm of Divine Inspiration.  Faith is saying, “I can” rather than, “I cannot”.    When I think of how faith has worked in my life, I think of the inner promptings that have compelled me to do seemingly weird and stupid things.  But each time I’ve abandoned reason and taken a leap of faith into the void of holy uncertainty, I’ve landed in a better place and my life has been immeasurably enriched.   Okay, so maybe I’m not leading armies into battle or walking on water, but I do hear voices and have visions which are always telling me what to do and when to do it. So go ahead and call me crazy. The dictionary defines insanity as lack of reason or extreme foolishness which aptly describes some of the things I’ve been guided to do, but there’s an entire parade of holy and enlightened fools who have gone before me.   I would say I’m in pretty good company.