Digesting the Bad
This is a spiritual experience that happened after I was already off of MFT and working in the Video Center; it was a kind of dream/vision I had during the day.
In the MFT work room, I was preparing sales product for the next day. A brother had just left for the night. Then he yelled, “True Father is coming!” I ran hurriedly to a set of large glass patio doors and saw True Father coming from a distance in a chariot, his daughter standing behind him with her hand on his shoulder. I think it was In Jin Nim. I waved enthusiastically. Then True Father waved back as though he recognized me. I was surprised. Why would he know me well enough to recognize me? Then I remembered: while I was on MFT I offered my result every night -like a priest representing all of the people who had given. He must know me from that.
I wanted to run out to meet him, but not empty-handed. I quickly looked around and grabbed a bouquet of flowers to give as a gift. Unfortunately, not all the flowers were good-looking. Some were beautiful, but others looked half- dead. So as I was running, my heart was severely divided- part ecstatically joyful and the other part ashamed- even mortified by my poor offering.
When I reached the chariot, I lifted the bouquet and was going to immediately apologize, but True Father grabbed the bouquet and ate the bad flowers. Then he handed the good flowers back to his daughter. I was dumbfounded. True Father ‘erased’ all evidence of what was lacking in my offering. I had nothing left to repent for. He digested it.
Then all the good part he gave to his child.
This is True Father’s life- digesting the bad, giving the good.
I loved to witness and brought people often to hear lectures. Once I even witnessed to Katherine Hepburn. I handed her a flyer, an invitation to our video center and asked her to come. Unfortunately, she dismissed it as being videos of Hollywood movies. She was surrounded by other people; I had no chance to explain further.
I brought a man from Bangladesh to the video center. After listening to a lecture, I asked his thoughts on what he had heard but I don’t think his English was good enough to comprehend. Before he left, I prayed with him for Bangladesh. He returned numerous times bringing more and more friends and even gave me a copy of the Koran, saying I was a true Muslim because I was doing the will of God. He and his friends did not seem to understand the lectures and I wondered why they kept coming. They took photos with me to send home to their families. It eventually dawned on me that for an immigrant from a poor country to have an American friend was something powerful. I had never considered that being American was powerful. That being a white American even more so..at least to some immigrants. I knew that I should rethink how I approached and related to people so as not to cause confusion and misunderstandings, but if I thought too much I must not witness. I made a special compartment in my brain to store this new insight.
I witnessed to a big, burly black man. He said that he was impressed that I knew about dialectical materialism and came to listen to the lectures. I’m sure I was able to overcome any preconceived notions because my husband-to-be was a big, burly black man. Conversely all of the sisters in the video center felt uncomfortable around him, even fearful. He eventually attended a weekend workshop and was so inspired by the Divine Principle that he wanted to join, but the staff there were hesitant to welcome him wholeheartedly. They encouraged him to continue studying at the Video Center. Mr H insisting he pay the full amount for the series or not come back. Since he did not have the money he was forced to end his relationship with us. Was this racism or was he really a potential menace and I was just being my normal clueless self? He heard the Divine Principle so I hope that he did something with it for his own good even if we were all at fault.
Queens, NY- September 1, 1983 Thursday, 7 or 8 AM
I was getting ready for work (the Video Center). At that time, I lived in a church-owned group home in Astoria- Queens, NY. Our neighbor was working on his car with his radio blaring. From my second story window, I heard a newscaster announce: “Soviet jet fighters shot down a passenger flight (KAL 007) this morning, killing all 269 people aboard. USSR claimed the plane was on a spy mission when it flew into Soviet airspace.”
My blood ran cold; I felt compelled to publicly decry this act and draw attention to the barbaric cruelty of godless communism which at its very core has no respect for human life. Many- too many- Americans were complacent and naive about communism.
A plan sprouted in my mind; I would travel to Washington, DC, chain myself to the steel gates outside the White House and fast, even unto death, on behalf of the 269 people - AND all of the people being held prisoner in Communist regimes. That evening, after work, I joined a small gathering outside the Soviet embassy, protesting the attack. But I was at a loss as to the practical aspects of my further plan. How would I get to DC? Where would I find chains and a lock? My plan seemed to need some support, but I could not think of anyone who would support me. I had no money. I was willing to walk to DC, but I have a terrible sense of direction and some concern about being all alone on the roads at night. Once I got to DC, how would I proceed? I did not mind being imprisoned or giving up my life if it meant waking up the American people to the real threat of communism. Wasn’t that why I joined this movement, to fight with the Messiah against Satan and his evil ideology?!
But I didn’t have the most basic practical skills of getting from point A to point B. For days, I struggled with this obsessive desire, but in the end, my inability to share with anyone - probably the biggest limitation throughout my life- led me to abandon my plan, with lingering angst and remorse at my crippling inadequacies.