World Watcher

A Short Christmas Meditation…

Pateknek Orval searched its memories. This took a minute-and-a-half, you see, because Pateknek had memories stretching back for millennia. Earth was its home. That is, Earth was its assignment. Some people on Earth called entities like Pateknek, “Watchers” or “Angels,” as in “Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones.” From time-to-time, one or two humans claimed to have seen one of them. Some said they were responsible for saving lives or protecting children, forgetting that the dead can’t speak, and that millions of lives have been lost to human cruelty and stupidity with or without their existence. Pateknek mourned each of those lives. They were indelibly etched in its memories. Oh, how it wished it could have saved them!

But Pateknek was very careful to make sure its chances of being seen were few, and far between. Only when it was required to be present at some event of “inescapable importance.” Even then, witnesses couldn’t be sure what they saw. For example, it may or may not have been present when humans first discovered the nature of fire, or when Moses went to the top of Mount Sinai, or when Three Magi brought gifts to a boy king.

You must understand, Pateknek Orval was commanded not to intervene in human history. This was the second most difficult part of its job, right after existing for millennia as a solitary entity. Pateknek was tempted many times, such as when certain self-important leaders ordered the slaughter of innocents, or when con-men and dictators rose to power, or when two bombs, mere shadows of an invention that could destroy the whole world, were used in a war, or when an innocent man was nailed to a cross after telling his brothers and sisters to love one another as God loved them. Even in events like these, it did not interfere. It was placed on Earth to bear witness, not to protect humans from their own weaknesses and ignorance. “History must be as humans choose it to be,” so it was instructed. “No one, not even you, shall alter its course.” And Pateknek obeyed.

Still, Pateknek Orval hoped this Christmas would be different. Two millennia of Christmases had come and gone. In that time, it had recorded little evidence of any fundamental change in human behavior. It was true humans had celebrated the holiday even in wartime, with a famous one-day truce here-and-there, but people had not yet tamed their warlike nature. The fact that wars and rumors of wars still existed was itself an affront to the spirit of Christmas. Some people complained about a “War on Christmas,” as if someone saying, “Happy Holidays,” ruined the day, but Pateknek knew all-too-well the false righteousness behind such opinions was at the root of the problem.

Despite the teachings of the boy king, the man who died on a cross, humans often loved their tribes more than love itself. Each Christmas, many humans took a moment to honor the namesake of the day, but most clung to their precious political parties, national factions, irrational prejudices and fears, and old animosities. Pateknek saw that the spirit of war, of all against all, was often stronger than the spirit of Christmas. Why else would Christmas be unable to change the world? Why else would that boy king, the man who died on a cross, have only one day each year, while hatred would be granted over two additional millennia?

In recent years, Pateknek had recorded an enormous number of untrue accusations emanating from around the world, mostly on electronic media. Out of anger, spite, or the desire to claim an advantage, people accused others of actions they did not take, and words they did not use. Pateknek wished it could change this, perhaps even put an end to social media, but interference was not an option. “History must be as humans choose it to be” was embedded in its consciousness. So, it wondered and marveled at the loss of truth, at the willingness of humans to say a thing is other than what it is – merely to assert their “opinion” or “prove” their point.

“Truth is Holy,” it was carefully instructed. “So are Goodness and Beauty. If ever these are violated, nothing else will remain sacred.” Pateknek Orval was faced with a conundrum. If all it was instructed to hold sacred fell apart, what would be the point of its existence? What if it did not intervene and the truth was lost? What if Christmas was just another excuse for a respite from work, or just another rationale for self-indulgence? What if the boy king, the man who died on a cross, was just another historical event, like so many before and after, that humans used for their own purposes, disregarding truth, goodness, and beauty in the name of their desires? At least, Pateknek mused, plants and animals never betray what is Holy.

Pateknek Orval had witnessed life on Earth since…the beginning of life on Earth. From its first tentative emergence, like the tiny green shoots struggling through the cracks of a great lava field, to the dominance of the human species, it had seen and remembered it all. The goodness of mothers taking care of their young. The beauty of first awakenings, first steps, first expressions of sentience. The self-sacrifice and nobility of heroes. The truth of the natural world: Plants and animals taking only what they need, and no more; defending themselves, as best they can, from their environment and their predators; adapting to changing conditions, as best they can, or perishing in the process. The kingdoms of life, duty-bound to diversify, were compelled from the beginning of time to be fruitful and multiply. Their multiplicity and abundance are a part of their beauty. Their tenacity and endurance are a part of their goodness.

And then there is man – the human animal. If “history must be as humans choose it to be,” humans must have choices. Humans can choose to only take what they need, or take too much, to the possible detriment of other humans. They can choose to defend themselves or assert supremacy. They can choose to adapt or force others to adapt to them. They can choose to embrace diversity or reject it, retreating to the comforts of “their own kind.” Humans can choose to protect the weak, those who have suffered misfortune, those who cannot defend themselves, or they can choose to serve only their own families or tribes. Whenever humans made the right choices, Pateknek thought they were beautiful and good. But too often they made poor choices, based on errors and untruth. At these times, humans murdered and massacred others, enslaved and exploited others, and committed all manner of atrocities, in the name of what they claimed was true, right, and just. There was and is no goodness or beauty in such choices – and there never will be. Nonetheless, Pateknek understood it must not intervene.

Every Christmas memory in the far-reaching mind of Pateknek Orval was marred by the poor choices of humans: Selfish choices. Angry choices. Uncharitable choices. Choices to ostracize, reject, and otherwise ignore others. It was forbidden from keeping score, though. Keeping the balance sheet of good and evil was not its function in the universe. But off-the-record, it seemed to Pateknek that good and evil needed a tie-breaking event. That’s another reason it hoped this Christmas would be different.

You might suppose an entity like Pateknek would not suffer from anxiety or depression. You also might expect that it would not be influenced by optimism or elation. But you would be wrong on both counts. After witnessing so much, for so long, it would be impossible for an entity like Pateknek to avoid these feelings. Just because it was not permitted to intervene, does not mean it could not feel delight, gratification, compassion, sympathy, or even pity for the creatures under its watchful all-seeing eye. Pateknek Orval was a “World Watcher.” Its purpose was to observe and be ready to report. Nevertheless, there was no power in the universe that could have prevented it from desiring the best for its world.

As everyone knows, desiring something is never enough. A person must take steps to achieve it. The third most difficult part of Pateknek’s existence was not being permitted to act on its desires. Its job was to watch, not to direct or correct. So, it watched and waited. And hoped.

If an entity like Pateknek can hope, it can also have faith that one day its hope will come to pass. And although its purpose in the universe was not to love any part of it, without love it could not have fulfilled its purpose, much less existed for millennia as a solitary entity. Watching and waiting.

These three are also sacred: Faith, Hope, and Love. No sentient being can exist for long without these virtues. While Truth, Goodness, and Beauty are our nourishment, Faith, Hope, and Love are our life spring. The boy king, the man who died on a cross, said that we must “hunger and thirst” for righteousness. Pateknek Orval centered its mind on what it called, “The Six Holy Things.” It had endured millions of journeys around a relatively small star in an obscure arm of a nearly forgotten galaxy by keeping these in mind. And still it hoped this Christmas would be different.

Pateknek sensed an almost imperceptible wavering in space-time. The last time it felt such a thing was immediately after its creator had left it alone to watch this world, this good and beautiful blue sphere among many barren worlds. And now it was Christmas morning too. A different Christmas from all the others. Watching itself must wait. Time would soon be meaningless. The Truth would at last be known.

“Pateknek Orval, Watcher of this World, I bring you joyous greetings from the boy king, the man who died on a cross. Your assignment will soon be at an end. Please submit your report and come home.”