How I See It: Reflections on spirituality, technology, and the art of everyday life

Should we have compassion for Judas, or can we tell bad from good? Copyright © 2008 by Odell Sneeden Hathaway, III When I speak about Judas, I am not talking about Judas who begat Phares and Zara, nor am I talking about Judas of Galilee, but Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon, who betrayed Jesus Christ. It is he whom I feel is the most misunderstood person in the Bible. Even the writers of the Bible seem to miss the point of Christ’s life when they speak of Judas! It is understandable: they loved Jesus not as you and I do—not as a mystical Savior who died 2,000 years ago—but as a friend they lived with every day, and whose absence hurt them. They needed to put the blame for this hurt on someone; why not Judas? After all, Judas could not defend himself—first, because he did cause Jesus to be killed; and second, because Judas was dead! To begin, let us try to look at the life of Judas from the only source on it that I have found: the New Testament of the Bible. Juda...

From the Michael-Light Connections (the news letter of the Order of Agape and Reconciliation (O.A.R)) Volume 6 October 1991 I received the message that Sister left on my answering machine when I returned home from a retreat that Weaver was leading down here. It was a wonderful chance to spend some time with him. I know that I still owe you a story and so I hope to give that to you during this letter, but before I begin I want to thank you for the magnificent time I had while I was in Canada; it meant a great deal to me, and I look forward to the time when I will be able to be with you again. It goes without saying that at a point in the past (in my case nearly 30 years ago) I was born. There is very little distinction in this and only slightly more in the fact that I was born in California, where I was raised and still live. I would like to say that I have led a happy life, but that would not be true. When I was in second grade, I finally received a distinction (one I did not wan...

I love my dog! I love my dog — but why would I not? She loves me like no other. She is always there when I need her, like no one else I know (though that may be because I do not let them get that close). She never treats me badly, like all the people I have known. But there is still more. I love my dog for a secret reason — one no one knows — because in my dog I have hidden a treasure, one of great value, one that no one may touch. I have hidden from the world, locked up in my dog. I love my dog because my dog is where I have hidden my love. No one loves me at all! They command me, but no one loves me. It has been so hard that now, even when someone tries to love me, I am scared. I run away — back to my dog, back to the one I love. I love my dog; it makes me strong when I need to be safe. Because I know there is no love for me, I can put my dog somewhere safe — and there I can leave my love locked up, where no one can touch it. No one can hurt me if I have my feelings locked a...

Do we have the right not to play with and bend each other? Copyright © 1984 By Odell Sneeden Hathaway, III (Comments on the poem  "Birches"  by Robert Frost) The boy who bends down the tree did not set out to conquer it. The idea of hurting it would never occur to him. It was not a job or a task — each tree was new and different. No rules. Just feeling. There was something in the boy that, when he passed a tree, made him reach out and touch it. This is the true meaning of play: acting without thought — not like playing chess. Most people do not even “play” music; they merely recreate notes. Few allow themselves to flow into their instrument, not knowing what will come out until the moment of playing. But this little boy, passing a tree, goes with the flow of life — which, through him, plays with the tree. In the same way, each of us should play with one another! We live in a world where we are afraid to play. Each of us becomes rigid and stiff. When the ice builds u...

By Jennie Aho Staff Writer Daily Sundial, Monday, August 23, 1982 OK, it’s not by me — but it is about me. Odell Hathaway has written his first novel. The CSUN sophomore from Sherman Oaks is also a self-taught computer programmer and soon hopes to earn his private pilot’s license. These are accomplishments of which any young man, just short of his 21st birthday, could be proud. But Hathaway is not just anyone. When he first attempted to enroll at CSUN, his application was denied because his SAT scores were too low. With an IQ in the 130 range, Hathaway is certainly smart enough to pass the test, but he couldn’t read the questions well enough or write his answers clearly enough to get a passing score. Hathaway has dyslexia and dysgraphia. Both are learning disabilities. Dyslexia is a disturbance in the ability to read, and dysgraphia is a disorder in the ability to write. Another disability, dyscalculia, concerns difficulty with math. “For years in grade school I was kn...

The Man Without A Heart "A man without a heart"—that is what they called me. If only they knew. But how could they know? To them, I am the monster that destroyed their Lord, the hideous heathen who tossed their God into the flames of hell. Seldom, when they think of me, do they remember that he came out of them—which is fine. When I did it, I did not know that he would be resurrected. Some pardon me for saying that, at some deep spiritual level, I was asked to take on this task—to collect the burdens of mankind to be tossed into that flame as well. But now that I have died, I can see my whole soul, and never till I met Christ did I have any idea what was before me. That moment was one of the most glorious of all time. As soon as I saw him, I was in love—a love only shared by two beings as close as we were in spirit. The other eleven did not know of it. They could not feel the closeness. They were at a lower level than Christ and I. I knew I loved Christ more than any ...