Apocalypse of Jude

As Jude crosses the threshold of the sanctum of the church and gingerly dips his fingers in the shallow urn of holy water fixed to the back wall, he is relieved to see it not turn bloody with his guilt. He moves into an aisle, where he stoops to a bow, his hand moving instinctively from his forehead across his two breasts down to his solar plexus. Still stooped, he slides silently into a back right-hand side pew, lowering the kneeling stool onto which he falls heavily. He rests his elbows on the panel before him between which he sinks his head, the faint smell of beer clutching his breath.

/in the name of the Father/ /and of the Son/ /and of the Holy Ghost/ /what have i done/

Jude heaves a breath forcing words to his mind.

/ive killed a man/ /to become another mans priest/ /and avatar of an idol Holy Father/ /and surely this man will kill me when the rite is done/

A slight panic grabs at his throat now.

/i confessed my sin as if it had been done Holy Father/ /to the priest this afternoon/ /he absolved me from this sin and made me clean to take the eucharist/ /but i have no belief that a priest can do what i asked him to do/ /and no faith that what i confessed can really be forgiven/

/holy mother of God/ /have mercy on me/ /help me to understand the mystery of your son before i die/ /holy virgin mother/ /pray for me/ /help me to endure the doubt i feel about our most holy church/

Jude lifts himself up onto the pew bench to see the crucified Christ dead on a cross on the front wall and sees the man he killed, the nails pinning Christ piercing him with blood guilt. He quickly averts his eyes to watch the white robed priests enter in procession from the rear, holy water being sprinkled in penitential blessing before them as they approach the chancel.

He finds himself standing, looking up at the cupola and becoming filled by the choir’s Kyrie, and it brings to him memories of upbringing: of the sound of children singing, of catechism, of tradition, of ritual, of study, of faith emptying, of agony, of rejecting and of torment.

“Lord have mercy”

/Lord have mercy/

“Christ, have mercy”

/Christ have mercy/

“Lord, have mercy”

/Lord have mercy/

The words of the Gloria being uttered from the congregation roll quietly from his mouth, but in his mind the words become empty vessels on an ocean and hardened clots in his heart. From the front a voice rings out.

“Look upon us, give us true freedom and bring us to the inheritance you promised, Grant this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.”

The resonance of voices silently expressing the Amen brings the architecture to a preparatory silence of human bodies. In that silence, awareness of frustration begins to sweep over Jude as the mystical awareness of God’s presence in space he knows to be there, gives way to the unfathomable, incommunicable mystery of His presence in the Word.

“Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress.”

He knows the passage by heart, the midnight solemnity being his favoured since a child for its cloistered darkness, secrecy and engendering of mystery.

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.”

Jude suddenly lets himself sink into the tradition, making response with a conviction determined to force open the communication to the deeper reality of Christ locked behind these symbols of words the Church uses.

“Proclaim His salvation day after day; declare His glory among the nations, His marvellous deeds among all peoples.”

But inside Jude, nothing changes. His words merely echo along with the drone of others as words are read again from the Lectionary.

“Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; Let the sea resound, and all that is in it; Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them. Then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy.”

His words have now been reduced to silent mouthings in the congregation’s drone.

“They will sing before the Lord, for he comes, he comes to judge the earth. He will judge the world in righteousness and the peoples in his truth.”

But Jude’s dumb mouthing brings raw pain to his soul, which, having no other recourse to express its torture, seeks now to wrench the heart and twist the gut in a bid to escape the darkness that suffocates the light that Caul once saw flickering within him in torment.

“For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men.”

The clawing, tearing pain continues.

“It teaches us to say ‘No’ to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope.”

In response, all the darkness jealously enshrouding the light of Jude’s soul reminds him it is because of the Church that no pure and unfettered communication can now exist between him and the One who created him, and that all struggle against the darkness is futile.

“The glorious appearing of our great God and Saviour, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good. This is the gospel of the Lord.”

At his surface, Jude finds himself wanting again, as he has many times, to give in to the futility he feels towards the Church being able to communicate that salvation, the mystery of Christ.

“In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.”

As he hears the words of the Book of the Gospels being read, tumbling into him as a voice of living teaching authority, the depositor of faith, he finds them to be carrion comfort.

“The time came for the baby to be born.”

/centuries of tradition as the exclusive revealer of scripture/

“This will be a sign to you.”

Still the light buried deep within burns as he sits in the shadowing drone of the lectorial voice. To him it feels as if something is wanting to link this agonising gap between his sense of God and the mystery of Christ.

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favour rests.”

Then coming through the gates of his ears, the words of the priest.

“Today you will know that the Lord comes. At daybreak you will see His glory.”

These words resound against Jude’s breast as prophetic hope and he grabs them like the hair of opportunity, sitting upright with the hope as the priest continues.

“On this Holy Night we are gathered as the Liturgy bids us do, to come in Joy and ceremonially celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, our Lord, born to bring hope to the downtrodden.

“The event is the mystery of God revealed, proclaimed by angels and witnessed by shepherds. Tonight, we not only come together in celebrating the mystery of the saviour of the world’s coming, but more importantly look forward to the returning Christ to set in place the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth.

“In approaching this celebration we are not merely performing a ritual of Tradition, but are making alive in ourselves the grace of Christ that he has filled the world with through His coming. We do this so that peace may be among all men who accept his grace.

“And yet as we move closer to being two thousand years from Christ’s incarnation, we see our town growing more and more obsessed with material happiness. Even now a gated village development is promising to bring the rich blessings of a peaceful happiness into the lives of everyone.

“Yet as the Gospel of Luke shows, we see richest blessing being offered by Angels to Shepherds in the form of a baby born in a stable. And the Church today through the Liturgy continues to proclaim this for the peoples of this town and the nations of the world to hear: Christ is born for us. Come let us adore him.

“As to our sufferings in this world, the light of Bethlehem holds out hope to the world that our suffering is of meaning, and that we need not seek to cloister ourselves in a golfing estate. Rather, Christ in his teachings instills in us the need to bear the burden of his cross, while remaining focussed on his second return. And because we serve him, this suffering has meaning. In suffering for Christ, he is making us responsible for a little of his own suffering so that we might alleviate a little, the sufferings of others—and I think now of the thousands of impoverished and oppressed peoples that live between us and the city. By suffering so, we diminish the darkness of life and allow the ever growing light of Christ in us to increase; the light that He brought into the world at his birth.

“There are those in this town who wish put out this light and to have a town where there is no Church and no revelation of Christ taught by the Church. As we approach the Holy Eucharist in celebration of the birth of Christ Jesus our Lord, I ask that you reflect on the nature of the struggle for Christ’s revelation in this town. It is to free the oppressed from their chains. Consider it and then let the celebration of the Incarnation encourage you as the Church seeks to adopt measures that will put a halt to the increase of the spirit of death in the world.”

Wasteland Mix: Fragment 64