Losing My Religion
I went to an art show tonight and at this art show there was a painting of Adam and Eve. I was immediately struck by the emotion in their faces. Eve looked ashamed - Adam, sorry.The artist was standing next to me, who I don't know very well at all, and I leaned over and said to her that Eve looked ashamed and Adam appeared to be sorry. She, the artist, then turned to her friend and expressed her gratitude that it came through and someone got it.
Some got it, alright. Me...and if the goal of Art is to affect an emotional response, this young woman succeeded.
Was Adam sorry? How much did he hate himself and what must have been his temporal chargrin as he looked on Eve? Did he contemplate suicide? He, while the Father of Man, was also, argueably, the Author of Sin...or if not the Author, the tip of the Author's pen.
As a man, I carry the burden of my wife. How would I feel to have brought something like that upon her? And then by extension...others who in me have placed their trust? It was Adam's fault, and it will be, has been, and is mine as well. To deal with that weight in my own life is cumbersome...how must it have been for Adam? How heavy his yoke and difficult his burden?
Overwhelmed and afraid of weeping in public, I retired to a back porch only to be confronted by one of my first loves, the game of soccer. I watched as young kids played in the cold rain. I remembered the smells. The squash of my boots in the pitch...the way the water would drip off my hair. This was my favorite time to play, save when the frost made the pitch crunchy and the ball sting. I remembered what it was like to coach. I missed it. I forever will.
Then I remembered when God told me I couldn't coach anymore. I remember when he took from me what I loved and most enjoyed. I remember knowing I would forever miss it. I also knew that he was giving me something else that he would eventually take away; theatre. Forever placing me where I need to be, for the people who need me, for the time appointed, with no regard to how I felt about it: God's relationship with me in a nutshell.
I wonder when will I wander through a theatre rehearsal and miss it? When will I not be able to act anymore and will I miss it?
I'm coming to grips with the idea that my present is my future past....and frankly, it saddens me.
Some got it, alright. Me...and if the goal of Art is to affect an emotional response, this young woman succeeded.
Was Adam sorry? How much did he hate himself and what must have been his temporal chargrin as he looked on Eve? Did he contemplate suicide? He, while the Father of Man, was also, argueably, the Author of Sin...or if not the Author, the tip of the Author's pen.
As a man, I carry the burden of my wife. How would I feel to have brought something like that upon her? And then by extension...others who in me have placed their trust? It was Adam's fault, and it will be, has been, and is mine as well. To deal with that weight in my own life is cumbersome...how must it have been for Adam? How heavy his yoke and difficult his burden?
Overwhelmed and afraid of weeping in public, I retired to a back porch only to be confronted by one of my first loves, the game of soccer. I watched as young kids played in the cold rain. I remembered the smells. The squash of my boots in the pitch...the way the water would drip off my hair. This was my favorite time to play, save when the frost made the pitch crunchy and the ball sting. I remembered what it was like to coach. I missed it. I forever will.
Then I remembered when God told me I couldn't coach anymore. I remember when he took from me what I loved and most enjoyed. I remember knowing I would forever miss it. I also knew that he was giving me something else that he would eventually take away; theatre. Forever placing me where I need to be, for the people who need me, for the time appointed, with no regard to how I felt about it: God's relationship with me in a nutshell.
I wonder when will I wander through a theatre rehearsal and miss it? When will I not be able to act anymore and will I miss it?
I'm coming to grips with the idea that my present is my future past....and frankly, it saddens me.
posted by rOmiLaYu at 8:55 PM
3 Comments:
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, to love that well that thou must leave ere long.
I get it, if it helps any.
that, to me, is stunningly sad, and i have the distressing thought that maybe it is not supposed to be, because are God's ways supposed to be sad, or incite sorrow at all?
are there permanent things, then, with God? or is every thing he gives us an object of the "future past"? and i don't mean grace, or his gift of salvation, but just the aspects of our lives which bring us happiness and from which we derive a sense of safety and fulfilment?
i hope i haven't missed the point of what you have written- because i feel the point is worth grasping.
Doesnt it make you want to love it more knowing you wont have it forever? Theater i mean, or even soccer. The thought of loosing something, that i have control over, makes me want to love it more.
maybe im crazy. maybe i dont really understand, just thinkin out loud... or typing as the case may be.
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