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 God is gay :

          a true spiritual anecdote

                   

    "Out in this world, in this incredible world, in this maddening, miraculous, mythical world, certain very absurd things kept happening to me, almost all of which I neither expected, intended, nor desired.

                One such oddity began as another sequence of dreams, drawn out over a number of years, in which an old homosexual man was very interested in making love to me. I knew in the dreams that the man was God, which made me quite repulsed, and I always awoke with a sickly feeling, thinking that God was a demented old codger who ought to seek His fancies elsewhere. Little did I know, however, that this apparent homosexuality of Godís was simply symbolizing the type of relationship He would like to have with me; He wanted to love me, but the only way for that to happen was for me to be completely open and receptive, and the only way for that to happen was for me to become as a woman in relationship to God, which meant to be concave to His convexity, as it were.

   In fact, I understand now that a man does not become united to God until he becomes Godís wife, for to receive is to be female, and so to take upon the bridegroom is to become one with Him.

                I cannot deny that this sounds like absolute balderdash. And yet, as always, a truth which I had refused to accept from within, had necessarily to present itself in the outer world so that I could accept that the spirit was not relenting in its project.

                What happened is that I was in Ireland, and I was rootless and homeless, though I had never felt more rooted nor home, a paradox which could only exist in Ireland, because it is a land that has been uniquely made for blokes like me, for souls rapt in the wonder of existence and dancing madly without aim but for the love, the agony, and the brilliance of it all. I was dancing a mad dance inwardly as I outwardly toured the pubs of Galway. I was like a sailor who had never before set foot on land, like a man born out at sea, who had never known the feel of good old terra firma, nor of the type of solidity which belongs to no physical realm but is found only in the heartís vagabond provinces, and is a fluid perfection which the spirit knows as home. And if ever I felt like I had finally come to shore, and was home, it was in Galway, Ireland, for there is no place on earth which houses the lost and wandering soul in such multifarious pubs, like Galway. The town is thick with bohemians, hobos, troubadours, minstrels, mendicants, gypsies, hippies, publicans, drunks, and freaks.

                I was staying in an anarchical, disgusting, congested, wonderful, and blessed hostel on the outskirts of town, wherein the most amazing cast of individuals were either living for months on end while working in town, or staying only for a brief period during their travels.

                Anyways, before I lose the thread, it happened one evening, as I was sitting around the hostelís kitchen table, sipping on some cider, and bantering with a number of Europeans, that an Irish man, about my age, came stumbling in after a night of pubbing. He was blasted to the moon from drink, and he sat down with us and began spouting all sorts of nonsense, and yet he was in a somewhat lucid, dream-like state, and at one point he kept looking at me and declaring, ďGod is gay! God is gay!Ē to which I responded, ďI knowĒ, though he didnít seem to understand that I had understood him, and kept on delivering his odd axiom, like a mantra risen from the drunken sea. But I understood him alright, and, not only that, I was thankful for his unexpected speech which supported my unconventional premise.

                Given this corroboration, I can calmly declare that all men are women under God, though not in the sex and gender sense, but in the concave-convex sense; for in order to be intimate with God a person must allow God to penetrate them. And the only way to do that is to become hollow and receptive, which is a state of grace which I continue to imperfectly strive towards, for it is easier be in God, than to let God be in me."

 

Excerpted from ROOTS AND WINGS : adventures of a spirit on earth, by Jack Haas           

 

 

Books by Jack Haas

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