I went to Church tonight. I don't go very often, but, hey, it's the
Christmas season and the wife is in the Church Choir, and, if I didn't go, well,
I knew the price would be more than the value of watching Notre Dame play
Syracuse, which, I found out later, turned out to be a good game.
Anyway, sitting there, alongside folks I did not know, listening to the
beautiful voices, everything kind of got to me. Life, the fact that we may
be the only creatures on this planet who know we are going to die, what is it
all about, why are we here, those kinds of things started creeping into my
head. (Geez, no wonder this guy sees a shrink).
Do you know what I started thinking about? I swear, something is
seriously wrong with me. I started thinking about horses and how much they
mean to me. I started wondering why some religions don't believe that
these creatures, or any other for that matter, don't have a soul. That
they won't go to heaven (they're not alone, I don't expect to make that trip
either). How can anyone think that? The horse has more soul than
most humans, including myself. And, big surprise here, I started to tear
up. Damn, what is wrong with me?
Has to be some sort of change of life. I don't think I've always been
like this, although, I do remember, as a kid, I used to cry very quickly
when I thought I was going to get a beating. I hate pain and thought that
would save my butt from it's company. And, yea, I was always in
trouble.
I'm getting older, things are changing. I don't even look at young, pretty
women like I used to, although, I must admit, I still flirt when I get the
chance. I think I do it to stay in practice, in case I ever really need to
use it once again (yea, like you ever had it to begin with), kind of "for old
time's sake." But, during the singing, quite inspiring and enjoyable
actually (with hope and prayer thrown in), there I am, sitting in church,
one of a crowd of two or three hundred, and I bet I'm the only one there who
is thinking about the darn horse. We're supposed to be thinking of
Jesus, man, what are you doing thinking about a silly horse here? You
can't put a horse on a cross, he's too heavy. The horse didn't die
for your sins, it was Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
And then it hit me. And, most of you aren't going to like what went
through my mind, sitting there watching my still lovely wife singing,
looking at me, probably wondering why my eyes were filled with tears (actually
she knows I'm weird in this way and kind of loves me because of it), having no
idea that I'm sitting there on that pew thinking of horses when I should be
thinking of Christmas and the joy that it brings. What is wrong with
me?
I'm thinking of endurance. American endurance and some of the
discussions we've been having over the past few years concerning horses that die
during competition. And, I'm thinking, hey, maybe it wasn't just Jesus who
died for our sins, because it sure seems to me that some horses are dying over
the sins of man. Sins like greed, sins like
coveting that first place award, sins like not caring (enough), sins like
abuse and cruelty, sins like, well, like placing ourselves above the horse to
such an extent that we forget that they are a living, breathing organism just
like our self. The only difference being they poop a lot more.
Maybe, this is why the horse is not full of shit as is the human.
We, obviously, think that we are much better than they. We would not
treat our fellow man (without breaking the law) in this manner. We would
not let them die on our watch without taking some sort of drastic action to
change the outcome. And, I continue watching, listening, to the Church
Choir, a beautiful, pre-Christmas scene, and, deep inside, I continue to
cry.
