On Thursday night, I had this notion to pray “for” Aaron Bushnell; that is, to assist him in some way. However, I have never been comfortable with the idea of intercessional prayers. The idea comes laden with all sorts of unprovable assumptions: that Aaron still exists, to be helped; that anything I can do could help or initiate help for him; and last, but not least: if God knoweth all and loveth all what need has he of me tell him what his job should be? So then, who am I really helping here, Aaron or myself and my own disturbed feelings at his distressed feelings which led him to take his life on account of the beneath human putrifaction that rules in Jerusalem, Washington and the decrepit West.
So apart from this jumble of thought and intentions, how should I start my prayer? It seemed to me that I had to envision Aaron going up in flames and hear in my mind's ear his shouting “Free Palestine!” And that is what I did, but no sooner I did it than it seemed too “hot” to get too close too. And “hot” was the least of it... I don't want to say “darkness” but there was a kind a sacra off-limits about what was going on beneath those flames. So then, I thought: am I strong enough for this ... to carry on with this intention? Am I courageous enough to bring the inner essence of his suicide close to my own innermost self?
At this point I just gave up and started to intone silently: have mercy on him, have mercy on him. ... I did not mean have mercy on him for his having done some wrong. I meant “mercy” in the sense of “shower him with your loving kindness.” I had no idea whether what he did was right or wrong. All I knew was that it was an ultimate sacrifice which by nature is beyond ordinary limits and therefore in a place where most of us do not go to.
And then, “have mercy on him” became “have mercy on me.” As for whether any or this helped Aaron... I have no idea. I hope so. I wish him well.
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On further consideration, I have concluded that Aaron Bushnell did the right and noble thing. I am disgusted to the core at MediaControl's attempt to diminish his sacrifice by calling into question his mental stability. At least Madame Gnu was honest enough to forthrightly display her repulsiveness by calling self-immolating monks, “human babacue.”
I get to my conclusion rather simply and by analogy. During the Great War, young men on both sides of the death-strip went “over the top” for God, King and Country. They did so knowing full well that there was an 87.3625% chance that they wouldn't make it
Eine Kugel kam geflogen
Gilt sie mir oder gilt sie dir?
I would not be the first to say that, over those trenches, Christian Civilization committed suicide. Or as Marine Corp sergeant Daniel Daly put it, rather less poetically, "Come on, you sons-o'-bitches, do you want to live forever?"
Either way, we honour the men who chose not to live forever; and we do so, if we are sensible, regardless of which side they were on because what matters is that they chose to give their all. Soldiers understand this. Unfortunately, civilians “bawling allegiance to the state” do not.
I personally agree with the cause for which Aaron Bushnell immolated himself. It is too early to tell if it was a futile act or if it will let loose a chain of consequences that will alter things. But in either case you cannot ask more of a man than that he give his all; and for having given it, he deserves God's rewarding mercy.
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