Spirits

By Michael Jesse

Chapter 23

The rest of Jack's week went pretty well. He and Millie went to lunch two more times, and during one of those lunches, they walked over to the Roosevelt Building and he showed her his apartment. It happened spontaneously, but that was okay because Jack was always prepared. He kept his apartment neat and tidy, made his bed in the morning, kept his dishes washed, and never left his liquor bottles out in the open.

"Wow," she exclaimed as they walked through the door into the spacious former office space that was now his living room. "What a fabulous view, and I love all your bookshelves. God, how many of these have you actually read?"

It was a question Jack was always prepared for and could answer honestly. "Well, some of the really old ones are too fragile to handle much, and some I only bought for the bindings. But for the rest, I'd say I've read ‘some of most' of them. I don't always finish because a lot of these dudes really could have used an editor to tighten things up. Especially those Russians."

"I love your statuary," Millie said as she walked down the row of books, separated here and there by a reproduction of a Roman bust or Celtic shield. "Oh, and look, you have Athena. She and I have a special relationship."

"Do you?" Jack said, grinning. "Well, she was the nice one, after all – the only one of the Greek gods who gave a rat's ass about us humans."

"True," Millie said. "And in some ways, the Greek god system made a lot more sense than the Judeo-Christian god -- at least based on actual human experience."

"I think I know where you're going with this, but go on."

"Well, on the one hand, you have a single, all-powerful deity who supposedly cares about us, and yet inexplicable bad stuff constantly happens to us anyway."

"Yeah, that guy."

" And on the other hand, you have a bunch of petty, bickering gods who don't particularly care about us at all—"

"Except Athena," Jack said, "and even she seems like she has more important shit she really should be doing, but she has to set that aside because Odysseus needs help again. "

"Right, and meanwhile all the other gods are arguing and throwing mountains at each other and sometimes random humans get hurt." She looked at her watch and said, "oh, but we should head back. I have a meeting with Max in 20 minutes, and I just know he's going to nag me about the Internet."

"What about it?"

"Oh, he's so excited about it and wants us to use it more as a source, but I keep telling him that most of it is crap, and even the stuff that seems good might not be because most of the time we don't really know the authority of the source. And we are already paying for professional sources like Nexis and Dialog through which we have access to literally thousands of newspapers and magazines and scientific journals from all over the world – sources that employ professional writers and editors and follow a journalistic code of ethics – and he gets excited when some guy in his mom's basement posts his own personal analysis of the works of J.R.R. Tolkein."

They left the apartment and were heading down the elevator. "So," Jack said, "tell me about your special relationship with Athena."

"Well, of course, the thing about Athena was that she would appear to humans in disguise. She would be a washerwoman or an old soldier, and she would say or do just the right thing for that person to make the right decision, or to endure a difficult challenge."

Now they were outside, walking together on the sidewalk, and Jack was listening but mostly preoccupied by the sunlight on her hair and skin.

"There have been so many times in my life," she was saying, "when a person I did not even know appeared out of nowhere and said or did just the right thing, and I think of those as Athena moments. Like that story about your mother."

"What story?"

"When she was crying in the rain and a complete stranger came up to help her."

Jack stopped walking. "When . . . when did I tell you that? I haven't even thought of that in years."

"That day I was at your house just before . . . she died. After Todd left to get your mom's friend, you and I were talking, and you told me that story. You said you were a toddler, I think, or were you older? Is that an actual memory you have?"

"I'm surprised you remembered that," Jack said, his mind suddenly seeing that moment again.

"Of course I remember," she said, but when she looked up at him, tears came into her eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry I brought that up." She hugged him tight for a long moment, and when she pulled away, there was a tear on her cheek. She kissed him on the corner of his mouth before he could react and then wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"Wait," he said, taking her elbow so she faced him again. "There's no need to apologize. I was just surprised you remembered that. That was 20 years ago. It doesn't bother me."

"You looked a little stunned, and I thought—"

"No, no, it's fine. You just surprised me. And to answer your question, no, I don't think it's a real memory because I would have been too young, and yet I can visualize it as if it were a memory -- like a snippet of a grainy old black and white movie. But I think I probably just manufactured that image from hearing her talk about it, and she would bring it up now and then as the reason she believed in God. And you're saying maybe that was Athena who helped her out that day?"

"Not literally Athena, but, well, I'm not sure I can articulate it without sounding all religious-y."

"Oh, go ahead and lay some religion on me," Jack said, laughing. "I can take it. I'm the guy who likes it when the Jehovah's Witnesses come to the door."

"I hope you're nice to them."

"Of course I'm nice to them. So if it's not Athena, then who or what is it?"

"Okay, so . . . when I go to Catholic mass, they always say the creed -- in which the congregation says we believe in the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. But the only one of those that I say out loud is the Spirit because that's the only part of the Trinity that I can almost believe in. Not in the way that Christianity defines it, but the concept of the Spirit predates Christianity anyway, so they don't get to define it. In the Talmud, ancient Jews called it ‘ruah,’ which means wind, breath and spirit.”

“You know Hebrew?”

“Oh no, just a handful of words. But I love that one because it combines those three ideas. There’s the wind that we feel against our bodies as we stand here on this earth, and then there’s our own breath that keeps us alive. In the Genesis story, God creates Adam’s body and then breathes life into it. And then the third concept is the spirit of God itself, which we may feel as inspiration or our moral ‘conscience’ as we try to do the right things in life.”

“So all that is in the word ruah?”

“Yes, though I suppose the proper Hebrew pronunciation would have that sound at the end like you are clearing your throat – ru-ach or something like that.”

“So that became part of the Trinity.”

“Yeah, there are several Jesus quotes where he says that God will send the Spirit down to be with us. He calls it the Comforter, or at least that’s how it was translated in the King James Bible that you and I grew up with.”

“But can you just do the Holy Spirit part without the God and Jesus parts?”

“Not in Christianity, but I think The Spirit could be something different that doesn’t require the all-powerful God sending it. Maybe The Spirit came into being as an extension of human consciousness – like an energy force that is made up of the combined consciousness of everyone who has ever lived and died.”

“So . . . kind of like Heaven?”

"No, not really. For one thing, there's no Hell or Purgatory or anything else, just The Spirit, and everyone ends up there. That's not my original idea, of course. It's kinda Buddhist if you aren't too particular. But the other important distinction from the concept of Heaven is that in The Spirit, you no longer have your distinct Self. Your consciousness would be just mixed in with everyone else."

"So you wouldn't be aware that you're . . . there?"

"Probably not."

"If we're not aware of ourselves, is the collective Spirit aware of itself?"

"THAT is a fabulous question," Millie exclaimed excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet as they stood waiting for a traffic light. They were next to the Square now, and Millie gestured at it, saying. "They've started having little music festivals here every Sunday afternoon, and I was thinking of going to it this weekend. Want to meet up?"

"Sure," Jack said.

"Great!" She bounced on her feet again, and then the light changed, and they walked across towards the Morning Star. "I'm not even saying I believe that, but I kind of want to because it would make prayer really meaningful. I can't believe in a powerful God that listens to your prayers and decides whether to grant them, and yet I find the act of prayer – especially in a group – really compelling."

"Yeah, well, it never worked out very well for me," Jack laughed darkly.

"I know," she said, her eyes shining again as she looked at him. "I remember you asking prayers for your mom. That's why I can't believe in that kind of God anymore. When I have spiritual experiences in church, it's not about any of the words or beliefs. I just feel really connected to all of the people. So The Spirit isn't just where you go when you die, but, like, we're already in it and that energy connects us all, living and dead."

"And how does Athena fit into all of this?"

"I'm getting to that -- be patient. So if we're all connected to each other by this energy field that is The Spirit, then when we pray, we might sort of communicate through it. So when a person is sick and people pray for her, that energy might make her feel stronger or more hopeful about her situation -- and it could even actually help heal her. There are ancient forests where the roots are all connected underground, and when one tree is stressed, it actually receives extra nourishment from all the other trees through the root system. If trees -- who are stuck in one place and probably don't lead complicated lives -- can respond to help one in need, then imagine what humans might do -- if indeed The Spirit connects us all. Each of us makes a zillion little decisions every day that we're not even aware of. And even the ones we are aware of — like what am I going to wear today, or where to go to lunch, or I feel like taking a walk — we don't really know why we felt moved to do that particular thing at that particular time.

"So maybe that lady in your mother's story usually went down Third Street, but today she just felt like trying Fourth Street instead and she sees your mother looking distraught with a little boy clutching her hand and looking up at his mom in confusion because he can tell she is upset, and she's crying in the rain praying for help to a god who does not exist. But maybe something else does exist -- The Spirit -- and through The Spirit, the right person was moved to go down Fourth Street that day, and so she came along at just the right time to see your mother and decide to help her. So in that moment, that woman was Athena. Any of us might be helped by Athena, and any of us can BE Athena if we pay attention and are open to those little nudges from The Spirit."

They had reached the entrance to the paper and were standing in the sunshine as people came and went around them.

"Wow," Jack said. "That was really—"

"Oh crap," Millie cried, looking up at the digital clock. "I'm five minutes late!" She pushed through the revolving door, and he followed, but she was already dashing up the stairs.