Pinch, Punch, the thirst of the fool

For the next ten Wednesdays my reflection will be based on one of the ten commandments, starting with the first. 

“I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. You shall have no other gods before me…”

This is the first commandment as found in the book of Deuteronomy, chapter 5, verses 6-7.

This commandment was then described by God made man, with the words-

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul and with all your mind.”

The Gospel of Matthew chapter 4, verse 10.

As it’s April Fools’ day, rather than a theological exegesis, which I am not qualified to expound, (I couldn’t say exegesis and not expound) my reflections today are examples of how both the breaking and keeping of this first of the ten commandments of God, given to Moses on Mount Horeb, have made a fool of me.

Whether you know me personally or not it’s worth acknowledging something relevant to this post- I am very zealous. Whatever I have loved or been interested in, I have been passionately consumed by, often to the point where my life becomes unbalanced.

From the age of about twelve I was obsessively fanatic about Elvis Presley. He was my God!

Every inch of my room was lined with his pictures, I looked for traces of him in everything I read or watched, or did. I used the timeline of his life as a reference for everything- that happened 100 years before Elvis was born, a year after he died, that historic event coincides with the release of that album etc. even when it came to remembering my own family’s birthdays, I used events from Elvis’s life as a reference.
I thought he was the perfect looking man, and all other men were only as good looking as they were in reference to how closely they resembled Elvis.

On his birthday, death day, and other key events from his life, I would wear Elvis badges to school, watch movies or listen to relevant albums on particular days.
In the summer holidays, on his death day, I would refuse any other activity, except to keep vigil indoors, watching Elvis documentaries or movies. I wore Elvis clothes and accessories, had an Elvis stamp collection, several vintage magazine collections, all his movies, all the vinyl I could find in the antique shops of Kingston, made scrap books, and I think you get the idea.

Totally obsessed, to the point of looking like a complete fool. Sometimes I would be ridiculed by my peers for this, especially given the ignominy of his death. Many people clearly thought I was a weirdo, and I didn’t care.

I had a deep, all-consuming love for Elvis Presley, which was expressed in my overzealous, obsessive behaviour. It was my sincere response to how I felt for someone I was worshipping. I might have used terms like ‘worship’ and ‘idol’ to describe this relationship but being irreligious I did not consider myself to be doing anything wrong, even though in some ways this intense fascination caused me to become a bit of a social pariah.

If I didn’t get my Elvis fix, I’d feel more stressed- his songs soothed me, his face cheered me up. If I was deprived of this too long, I felt a kind of longing. A need to worship at the spinning altar of wax- my record player. He satisfied some desire in me that was only partially touched by other pleasures I had in my life.

As I became a Christian in my mid-twenties I saw the error of my ways with my love for the powerless, human Elvis- no matter how lovely Elvis was, he was not God and should not have been worshipped. I was guilty of idolatry. So, I painfully turned away from my idol, to worship God.

One of few surviving Elvis portraits I painted, circa 2011.

I painted and drew Elvis thousands of times and destroyed or discarded the pictures I still had when I became a Christian. This one survived on my Mother's bookshelf and is now in her spare room.

In my ignorance about the truth, and trying to satisfy my desire for worship, which all human beings have, I took what could have been normal enjoyment for a popular entertainer and made it into something evil. Elvis was just a pop star and a man. A man who said himself that he didn’t even like to be called “King” because for him there was only one King- and that is Christ.

Breaking the first commandment made a fool of me.

Fast forward fifteen years and I, somewhat reluctantly, accept that I am now the same with Jesus.

Having happily been a fool for the love of Elvis, it’s no surprise that I am even more willing to be a fool for the love of God. Given that God is not a deceased pop star, but the be all and end all, that nothing else is. He is our creator and our true King.

Now I know that I need to worship- and who I need to worship. Why not throw myself into it with that same alacrity? Great word, let’s bring it back.

I have come to know God better, over time, through prayer, reading the Bible and being a member of a Church; especially being with other Christians and through the Sacraments.

As I came to love Him more through this relationship, I didn’t see at first the same fervour that I have displayed for my previous obsessional desires. I was so lost in God that I wasn’t thinking about it.

Though I was not surprised when I gradually realised that my desire for God had become excessive, and that in practice I was becoming overzealous. There was a sort of “I’m doing it again” acknowledgement of my human weakness.

Our Catholic faith teaches that disorder is the result of sin, and as my excess was creating disorder in my life I could know, without naming it, that my sinfulness was causing me to be overzealous.
My zeal for God could be a good thing, but in my human weakness I had made It a bad thing and so I needed to change.

I will spare you detailed self-analysis but as I examine my conscience every day I am used to recognising my sinfulness and addressing it, so it is ordinary in a way to see my sinfulness and try to correct it.
Essentially I do this by identifying the problem (sin) and then remedying it (reading, praying for and with contrition to God, and the sacrament of reconciliation/confession)
So, I am not confessing, I have addressed this problem as best I can but at the point that the Corona pandemic caused all of us to retreat to our homes, I had not had much chance to live a life of zealous love without overzealous fanaticism.

It has been difficult to address this and in fact, at the time of writing, I have failed to overcome this.

Please know that I am sorry to the reader, and to the Lord, that I am not yet a Saint. I would not recommend allowing zeal to make a fool of you, if you can prevent it from doing so.

I have been through the seven deadly sins countless times with this one, and find I’m guilty of them all. I have acknowledged too that I have a fear that this might be the last chance to go to Mass, Adoration etc. but, given that I don’t fear death because that will mean union with the Beloved I long for, that too falls short of explaining my longing for the Lord.

God is not a worldly pleasure and I don’t mean to draw a parallel to something so beneath Him by comparing him with my past obsessions, especially those which kept me from Him, like my idolatry.
Yet, there is a satisfaction to be had in the practice of the faith which is similar to the satisfaction for pleasure, but it's even deeper, sometimes imperceptible and clearly sustains me. In the same way that I needed to be with the things which reminded me of Elvis, so too I have the desire to be with Jesus- but with Jesus I am truly with Him in the church.

I love God as well as I can, as a sinner, with all my heart, mind and soul. I miss him during this time when I can’t practice my religion in the Churches where the Blessed Sacrament reposes and the Mass is celebrated.

Our desire for God is described as a thirst in the Psalms- a thirsting for the Lord.
When I express this to people I expect ridicule, whether I get it or not. I feel foolish saying how much I love God and the Mass. I am worried, even around other devout people who I know feel the same way, what they may think.
Maybe I’m always thinking of the Milk Float episode of Father Ted where the Priest hilariously says he “loves the Mass” cheerfully and we used to fall about laughing?

Although I have a good life with many opportunities before me, every day I think of the next time I can kneel before the Blessed Sacrament in praise.
My hope for my life is in Heaven and the resurrection, which we will soon be celebrating at Easter, but we have little things we hope for in life, along the way.

My hope for my life, before the joy of death when I can be with God, is bound up in the moment, at the consecration during the Communion rite of the Mass, when the host is raised. With joyful anticipation I hope and think of that moment every day in isolation.

I hope because I trust I will be kneeling before God again, as He is made present to us through the ministry of the Priest. When I think of that moment- how I love Him. That He comes to us in that way and is remaining with us until He comes again.
I have written reams of poetry about God and much of it is based around my love of the Mass and that sacred moment; because I am a fool in love I go to Mass daily if I can, not without guilt, and it is always the highlight of my day.
Many probably think that means my life is empty and meaningless, not realising that I have the fullness of life, and I’m sorry for their sake if they don’t too.

During this time of deprivation, because of the self-isolation and cancellation of Mass, Confession and all public acts of worship, I hope God will correct any way my zeal may not be properly ordered for the building up of His church and the sanctity of my own soul.

Being human and doing the best I can, I can only continue to love and serve the Lord as well as I can in the way I know how. For me, that is to be enthusiastic and in some ways dramatically romantic, yet also clinically practical. What are women? Why am I one of them? Aren’t we fantastic?

There is room for a zealot like me to be Holy and love God. I trust Him and, by His grace, and through prayer, the teaching of the Church, the Saints and the Sacraments (when we are allowed to partake of them again) I know my love of God, even without the fanaticism, may invite ridicule and at times I will be treated like I am a fool. Just for being a practising Catholic, sans sinful insanity.

In those instances, just keeping this first commandment of God makes me a fool in the eyes of the world. During times when I want human respect and feel I would rather not be a fool for my love of God, I meditate on the third sorrowful mystery of the Holy Rosary.

Jesus was crowned with thorns, he was spat on, called names, mocked, stripped naked, beaten and humiliated and he allowed it; quietly accepting what was happening to Him, and He loved the people who made a fool of Him.
If I ever manage to stop making a fool of myself (see Blog, not looking too promising) and I find I am still a fool for the Lord, may I accept the crown of thorns with as much joy and love as I accept His body, blood, soul and divinity at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, because that ridicule and humiliation is part of following Jesus too.

At least I can have peace that it is the keeping, not the breaking, of the first commandment that is making a fool of me.

In the words of a beautiful Country ballad-
“The things they’re saying may be true, but there’s something they can’t see. If I’m a fool for loving you, then that’s just what I want to be…”

The longing fool with companions, Bogart and Luna. Elvis cup on the bedside table, of course.

Oh God, you are my God, for you I long. Like a dry, weary clown without laughter…