People are in shock of the accusation that people are dying because "their deaths were not prevented."
This is the famous coin with two sides, the Janus face.
Dying is seen as unacceptable, but so people presume on each other to prevent such dying "at all costs".
For me, this is the real shocker in this unspeakable game of "who is more holy or more enlightened." As Alan Watts said, if I want to be more enlightened than you, I just say more of the same.
The martyr will be shattered by these two - only supposedly opposing - positions and find his death.
He will be betrayed by these very two sides. Not because they contradict each other, but because they agree. This is how I define being a martyr from the traditions of religious and philosophical contemplation.
To be indifferent to both sides is mistaken for not finding clarity in oneself.
In fact, however, this indifference is only interpreted as such, since it is not two but one side.
The insight that death is something unavoidable, that dying can only be postponed but not cancelled, can help those who feel this way to recognise it as an endless game between the powers that be.
Talking about resolution is like talking about stopping a waterfall from falling down.
To find martyrs in contemporary events without recognising in them some weakness or other, vanity, anger, despair or error, is to reflect back on one's own human qualities.
A martyr is one if he is known enough to stand for it. Thus, both the individual who realises that he will be ground down between positions, the one who makes himself a martyr (certainly not wanting it, but anyway) and the many who use him as a means to an end to discredit their enemies, to dub them as having fallen to the devil, the hour of a martyr's birth is involved.
The figure of Jesus is so powerful in its impact because he has not been handed down with over-esoterically sugary descriptions, but embeds the story of Judas.
Jesus knows very well that the one who loves him the most will be the very one who will betray him. In full realisation of this impending event, Jesus is portrayed as desperate.
"Why me, why now?"
He is not someone who will go into battle like a hero and warrior and face death bravely. Instead, one recognises him as deeply sad accepting his fate, asking God in the moments of struggling, "Why me?" and "may this cup pass me by", a deeply human emotion. One feels in reflecting back on oneself "I don't want to do this. I am afraid of it."
I don't know anyone by name or person who performs like good old Jesus. I certainly don't do that myself.
I feel lost. Many times without orientation.
I lend insights from what is called the Orient but if i am not doing it with care and caution, I might start to distribute those teachings in an overly romanticized way, mixed with the arrogance that I can be a lecturer, while I may have not understood anything.
I will blabber before I come to the real thing. Which is not a crime, but I better prepare myself to be met in the open space by someone who will point that out to me.
This someone could very well appear to me as the greatest idiot in the world - this human will be idiotic in some, but not in other ways. I will feel anger, rage, scare.
I might be met with curse, aggression and what I perceive as hatred.
Can I put aside vanity? Insecurity? Can I handle rage against me, being cursed or mocked, or all of it together? Whom do I allow to be my teacher in this?
There are many out there, but not so many I maybe think. More are out who say things but don't mean them.
Or talk without any feel - only intellect.
I've had some very good conversations. Some thoughts about myself. They are rare, but precious.
No teaching can improve on what you already know for yourself.
Thing is that I am not "al ready" at all times. I need reminders when I start to forget what I know for myself. The worst teachers can be the best. If that makes sense to you.