When the message was posted
that the edifice was built;
A cathedral of peace,
A vision of a better world
We feasted and we rejoiced in unison.
It was shining on the side of the mountain
Beckoning to one and to all,
That World Peace could be won with dialogue and effort
And the better natures of all would one day prevail
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| We trusted men in robes;
And they taught us what they could
And what they thought was true and traditional.
But we asked too many questions,
And were way too enthusiastic to handle.
We ignored dusty traditions,
and claimed that we could read for ourselves.
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| Offended by such effrontery the men in robes betrayed us
and sought to burn us as heretics for our excesses.
They claimed special transmissions, intercessions,
and that enlightenment somehow depended on giving money to them.
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They told us our favorite teacher was wrong,
that he was no longer a teacher in their eyes.
They told us we should not follow such people any more,
but should listen only to men in robes, not suits or jerseys.
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We looked at the Vimilikirti Sutra,
and the words of the Gosho,
and decided that this stuff was nuts...
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| So we protested and nailed our words to the door of the church.
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And they stormed in anger
and sent lightning bolts our way,
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| So we wept to ourselves.
How can we save mankind if we are betrayed?
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We protested, and prayed.
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Filling our words with sweet reason...
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While we tried to restrain our anger...
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The men in robes took our disagreements as effrontery.
And our questions as defiance,
And our defiance as pure heresy.
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But we were just reading the words as they were written,
And following the teachings of the Daishonin.
We dared to question them,
| ... so their anger knew no bounds...
They revised the rules in their bylaws
And told us to obey or leave!
We refused to obey them
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So they trampled the cherry trees on holy ground
and now they seek to tear our cathedral down.
| We could see the right of the priests to disagree,
to have a different point of view.
We could protest and fume, they had their points too...
But the lion, while he fears no other beast,
should dread the parasite who eats from inside.
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These men in robes chose authority over debate,
and changed doctrine to try to still our voices...
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And we weep to see the cherry trees fall,
And we weep to see our Cathedral torn down,
Because the seeds of hell have been sewn,
Where tears of amritsu and flowers once rained.
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If only earthquake would strike, Fuji Erupt,
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If only a hail of storming fury strike at them.
It would be to their benefit if it woke them from
the rule of the king devil...
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Evil and fawning,
false and scheming,
authoritarian and blind,
they fulfil the predictions of the lotus sutra,
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yet we weep for our beloved brothers
who once marched proudly beside us from the ground.
We were friends,
And now we are enemies on the field of blood red darkness
while our true enemies laugh at our foolishness
and dance in delight....
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Christopher H. Holte
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