As a seque from what we’ve established
so far and where we’re going next, I’d like to share this excerpt from my novel
“Mowgli and the Missionary.” Death was introduced into the human condition
through sin, in which we sever our connection to our source of life. Our life
is restored through Jesus Christ, who took on human flesh so it could be
sacrificed for our sins. This all has a very physical, bodily component, as
this passage explains.
Here Brother Jude, the missionary, has
just led Mowgli through a contemplative exercise in which he imagines his human
parents whom he lost as a toddler holding him.
“That’s something like how I speak
with Jesus,” said Jude.
“But they really weren’t here,” said
Mowgli, continuing to wipe away tears. “I only talked to them in my imagination.
You can imagine Jesus anywhere too. How can you say you miss him? At least my
parents once held me; Jesus has never touched you.”
As his heart rose within him Jude’s
hands reached once again for Mowgli’s shoulders, and his eyes stared deeply into
his. “Yes he has. Jesus has touched me so many times, Mowgli, in ways I can’t
find here, and I miss that very much.”
Mowgli’s smile was not so much of
amusement, or mockery, or awkward unease, but of wondrous anticipation of
whatever might be coming next.
“Go ahead,” he replied, shaking his
head and smiling even more broadly. “Tell me how you’ve been touched by Jesus.”
Jude invited the boy to sit with him,
then took a deep breath.
“Mowgli, you’ve seen newborn animals
nursed by their mothers. Everyone begins life by feeding off the body of
someone else, of the one who gave them life, right?”
“Of course.”
“What is their food in those early
days of life? What do they draw from their mother’s body?”
“They drink milk,” said the boy,
frustrated with Jude’s fixation on the obvious.
“And that not only feeds their body,
but creates a strong bond between them.”
Mowgli hung his head, and Jude hung
his as well, realizing too late he had struck a sensitive spot. Mowgli saw his
remorse from the corner of his eye.
“It’s okay,” said the boy, gently
nodding his head. “Keep going.”
Jude sighed before continuing.
“Can this milk sustain them as they
get older?”
“Of course not,” answered Mowgli.
“Animals must learn to walk and to run, to build shelter and to hunt. They need
other food to help them become strong.”
“You’re right,” said Jude. “And so the
flesh eaters kill for their meals, or their parents kill for them until they
learn to do so. And the plant eaters take living, growing things into their
mouths and annihilate them, killing them to give them their nourishment.”
“Everyone knows this,” said Mowgli.
“Why do you speak of this?”
“Maybe you can figure out why. There’s
a difference between the milk that nourishes creatures in the early days of
life, and the flesh and plants and fruits that must sustain a body when life
gets more demanding. The difference has to do with what happens to the source
of the food once the meal is eaten. Can you think of that difference?”
Mowgli thought for just a moment, his
eyes never leaving Jude’s.
“The one who gives milk lives after
the feeding, but an animal or plant must die to feed others.”
“That’s right,” said Jude, nodding
emphatically. “You and I are alive today because all through our lives
something else gave its life so we can have ours. Whether an animal that was
hunted or a fruit or plant that was once living and growing, something else has
to die so we can live, their bodies mingling with ours to nourish us. When we
eat we become one with what gives its life for us.”
Mowgli had never considered that he
owed such a debt to so many, more than just the bull that bought him.
“We don’t usually feel the same bond
with them as we do with our mothers, but we should, because a bond is certainly
there.”
“You’re right,” said Mowgli. “I’ve never
thought of that before. But what does this has to do with Jesus?”
Jude spotted a rotting mango lying on
the ground and retrieved it.
“Can you see how this mango is now
dead, and why?” asked Jude.
“Of course,” said Mowgli, “it’s
rotting because it fell from the tree.”
“The tree gave birth to it and
nourished it, and as long as it remained attached to the tree it lived.”
“Of course,” said Mowgli.
“Now it has died, because it’s
separated from what gave it life and sustained it. Can it restore itself to
life?”
“No, it can’t re-attach itself to the
tree.”
“Of course not. And that’s how we are
when we separate from God. Like a rotting mango no longer on the tree, apart
from what sustains its life, so are we because we separated from God by turning
to other things. The food of this earth now only keeps us alive for so long. So
God became human in Jesus so he could also die, and through his death he would become the food that keeps us
alive forever.”
“But Jesus is a man,” protested
Mowgli. “Men don’t eat other men. That’s not right.”
“Jesus changes bread and wine into his
body and blood, so he can feed us and become one with us by what still seems to
be regular food. That’s how Jesus touches me and holds me, and this is what I
miss so terribly.”
Read the first two chapters of "Mowgli and the Missionary" by clicking here.
Read the first two chapters of "Mowgli and the Missionary" by clicking here.
