Opened the news to see an article on Fred Phelps this morning.
The recently ex-communicated pastor of the Westboro Baptist (ersatz) Church.
A man once proclaimed to be hated worse than Hitler (...and seriously...how bad do you have to be to earn THAT title...)
The guy that picketed dead soldiers and dead school children's funerals.
The same guy who wanted to erect a statue in Matthew Shepherd's hometown proclaiming he was "Burning in Hell Now".
The guy who has (since 1955) loudly proclaimed that God Hates ( fill in the blank)- well basically most everybody he hates. Which covers a lot of ground.
Yeah...a real charmer.
It seems Mr. Phelps is in hospice at "death's door."
Reading the article and the horrible feelings that bubbled to the surface severely tested this practicing Buddhist...let me tell you.
How sad when an impending death immediately triggers feelings of
"Good Riddance To Bad Rubbish"
or maybe simply
"I am going to Outlive the Old Bastard."
Not a Zen Moment.
At first I made light of it quoting a line from Twain
"I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure."
Yeah Mark...haven't we all?
But after taking a deep breath I found only pity...almost compassion for this pathetic, hate-filled man who has wasted his life being angry and spewing vitriol. What a horrid way to live life. To know your very existence caused so many people such pain and suffering. And if he truly does believe in God at all...I would think he might be scared as hell of what is waiting on the "other side" for him. Even though the Buddhist in me realizes he has already made his hell...right here on Earth.
Anyway...
By the end of my meditation on the subject...I could only hope that his followers see the light and discard his hate-filled rhetoric and ways. Bury them with the man when he passes. And that people remember him as an example of how human beings should never treat one another.
It's the best I can muster...and it sounds hollow...even to me.
It isn't Compassion. And I'm not a Buddha.
Note: After 11:00 on March 20th...the first day of Spring...Fred Phelps drew his last breath. The World is a bit less evil today.
"My Mother always said to say nice things about the dead."
He's Dead.
How Nice.
Author of Quote Unknown
