Monday, October 29, 2012

BENT FIGURE OF A WOMAN: Meditation on Vincent Van Gogh’s Picture


There seems to be an unspoken weariness expressed by her posture. It mimics and mirrors the weariness of our own souls. Perhaps the day’s chores have been completed, leaving an inner “depleted-ness.” Her head is resting on her left hand as if it has no energy of its own. Even the most simple of tasks, holding the head up, is unthinkable at this moment.
          The right hand is lifelessly drooped over her knee as if it too needs support and help. Having worked and fulfilled the day’s pressing demands, it now rests in exhaustion.
          For some reason the word “resignation” seems appropriate to depict her entire demeanor. What is she resigned to? Has a loved one left her? Has her heart been broken? Are the pressing responsibilities more than she can bear? Does the future seem hopeless with no hint of change?
          The eyes looking downward and over to the side are telling indeed. They seem to ask the question, “Why are you bothering me with your empty promises? Things are not going to get better. Why should I care anymore?” These burning questions are responses to the false hopes uttered by one who has stepped out of her view. Those false hopes ring so hollow, echoes of emptiness reverberating in the chambers of her lonely heart.
          Purpose and motivation have been crushed by the weight of obligations never letting up. Something about her bent figure seated in a chair echoes the contours of our own inner life. Too often our own unspoken weariness comes from a loss of vision within. The boss had piled on another deadline. The children have been sick one too many times. My spouse has misunderstood me and hurt my feelings again. Another unexpected bill has arrived in the mail. Facebook has de-friended me from another friend.
          How can we go on in the face of such “depleted-ness?” Somehow the energy to go on can no longer be mustered. Her own fatigue has forced her heart to create space for God. This woman may very well be engaged in “weary prayer.” Such a prayer would be the inner groanings escaping from a wearied soul. These type of prayers know the fullness of empty words. They are prayed out of truthfulness in the heart when the mind is too numb to function any more.
          If I were to draw a graphic with my own bent figure in the chair, what would it look like? What clothes would I be wearing? How would my head be resting? Where would I be casting my gaze? What would my hands be doing, if anything?
          Often at the end of a long, exhausting day a couch or lounge chair provides the perfect respite for the depleted soul. How do I recoup and regroup from the day’s demands? Limitations of my personhood create caverns in the psyche where self-doubt, fear and rejection take up residence and spread quietly like a deadly cancer.
Do I allow God to embrace my soul and refresh me? My own “weary prayers” are the lifeline to a caring God. God sees the weariness and personal exhaustion. God accepts the failures, provides clarity of vision and defines purpose for my life.
My own “bent-ness” is noticed by a loving and compassionate God.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light" (Matthew 11:28-30, NIV).

Monday, October 22, 2012

“Stay a Little While, O Wanderer”


                 This past week I had the opportunity to visit an exact replica of the ancient catacombs found outside Rome. It was to scale, along with the type of rock excavated and the art and graphics on the rock walls. The frescoes are copies of the originals.
                There were a couple of authentic items, one being the actual body of an 8 year old boy martyred in Rome. His body was wrapped in fine clothes and a stately outfit, but you could see his mummified hands and feet with the bones showing. It was humbling and eerie to be actually looking at the body of young man from a Christian family almost 2,000 years old. He is known as St. Innocent.
                There were nearly 900 miles of underground passageways dug out by early Christians in the pumice-like rock. The purpose was to have a place to bury their dead, and to have special services in honor of their dead. This was all necessary because Roman authorities would not permit Christians to be buried in regular cemeteries.
                As I walked through the dimly lit, narrow passages, I could see various fading artwork and graffiti. The words that captured my attention the most were, “Sta, viator.” This can be roughly translated as, “Stay a little while, O Wanderer.” Or, another possible translation that our guide suggested was, “Pause, and consider your own fate.”
                Something deeply stirred within me as I witnessed what it must have been like for Christians in the early centuries to remember their dead. It was important for me to pause and stay a little while, giving  homage in my own heart to those who have gone before. History has not recorded for us all of those brave Christians who died and were buried in the Roman catacombs. They are a long forgotten witness of the faithful who have gone on before.
                The first three centuries of the church were difficult years. Depending on where one lived in the Roman Empire, different levels of persecution were experienced. Some stories of amazing faith in the face of cruel martyrdom have emerged from this time period.
                Yes, I want to stay a little while precisely because I am a wanderer! I am in exile, a foreigner, and a stranger that has a heritage of faith blazing the trail for my own witness in the world. May I always be true to Jesus who died for me.  May I always take time to remember the faithful who have gone before.
They were put to death by stoning; they were sawed in two; they were killed by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated— the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, living in caves and in holes in the ground "(Hebrews 11:37-38).
In Christian love, Curtis