::a scene from the venerable Mr. Dickens::

“First, Sissy, do you know what I am? I am so proud and so hardened, so confused and troubled, so resentful and unjust to everyone and to myself, that everything is stormy, dark, and wicked to me. Does that not repel you?”

“No!”

“I am so unhappy, and all that should have made me otherwise is so laid waste, that if I had been bereft of sense to this hour, and instead of being as learned as you think me had to begin to acquire the simplest truths, I could not want a guide to peace, contentment, hounour, all the good of which I am quite devoid, more abjectly than I do. Does that not repel you?”

“No!”

In the innocence of her brave affection, and the brimming up of her old devoted spirit, the once deserted girl shone like a beautiful light upon the darkness of the other.

Louisa raised the hand that it might clasp her neck and join its fellow there. She fell upon her knees, and, clinging to this stroller’s child, looked up at her almost with veneration.

“Forgive me, pity me, help me! Have compassion on my great need, and let me lay this head of mine upon a loving heart!”

“Oh lay it here!” cried Sissy. “Lay it here, my dear.”

--From Hard Times

I am reading through hard times for the sake of my British Literature class. At first I was a tad miffed at Dickens for being so incredibly wordy, but by and by this story had made its way into my heart; lo and behold it contains a picture of Christ to me!
In this scene (for those of you unfamiliar with the book) are Louisa (Gradgrind) Bounderby and Sissy (no last name). Louisa has been bred to be one of imminent pride in her independence, hardness, and perpetual ability to settle with the facts and avoid feelings of all kinds. Sissy, growing up with a father in the circus who abandoned her at a young age, had been taken in by the Gradgrind family while Louisa was still living in the house. Louisa resented Sissy's ability to bear away from the facts into soft feelings, because she seemed never able to enter into the emotion of life as Sissy could. Sissy, the picture of innocence (although ignorance as well) never stooped to repay Louisa with anything of the kind, and even states earlier in the scene that she had "always loved" Louisa, and "have always wished that" she "should know it."
Louisa, in her darkest hour after a confession to her father of being horrendously unhappy in the way he has raised her, and even being tempted to adultery against her husband (Mr. Bounderby) by a charming young newcomer, is stopped at the old home of her youth, with the kindhearted Sissy to care for her. But before Louisa will allow her into her heart, she makes the confessions above.
I feel that we, when coming to Christ, must first acknowledge to ourselves and to him, the kinds of things that Louisa admits to Sissy. That we are proud, and so hardened, and so confused and troubled, so resentful and unjust to everyone to to ourselves. That everything is stormy, dark, and wicked to us. I see us turning to Christ hesitantly and asking: "Does that not repel you?"

He says "No!"

Liberated from our first set of chains, we are strengthened to continue, for the sake of total freedom in front of our Lord; the one who has come to comfort us MUST know all our troubles before His help will be of effect. We go on: we are so unhappy, and everything happy to us is laid waste, devoid of all good, peace, contentment, and honor....does that not repel You, Jesus?

He says a resounding and sincere "No!"

Jesus, with brave affection, and a devoted spirit brimming up within Him, once deserted by us, now shines: the beautiful light upon the darkness of our otherness.

Finally, seeing the purity of Christ's love, we can fall to our knees and cry out:

"Forgive me, pity me, help me! Have compassion on my great need, and let me lay this head of mind upon a loving heart!"

And how does Jesus respond?

"OH LAY IT HERE!" he cries. "Lay it here, my dear."

Isn't He lovely?

::Manfred::

"Look on me! there is an order
of mortals on the earth, who do become
Old in their youth, and die ere middle age,
Without the violence of warlike death;
Some perishing of pleasure, some of study,
Some worn with toil, some of mere weariness,
Some of disease, and some insanity,
And some of wither'd or of broken hearts;
For this last is a malady which slays
More than are number'd in the lists of Fate,
Taking all shapes and bearing many names.
Look upon me! for even of all these things
Have I partaken; and of all these things,
One were enough; then wonder not that I
Am what I am, but that I ever was,
Or having been, that I am still on earth." (Lines 138-154)

The way of life seems to be to grow up fast but die before maturity can be useful, dying without meaning. Where is the passion of life that drives people to true life? So that one might die, not of the pleasure or the 'mere weariness' Byron speaks of, but die in the moment life fully lived? Then we would not so much wonder at people's dull lives and ponder existence, but might appreciate the depth of true life.

"We are all the fools of time and terror: Days
Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live,
Loathing our life, and dreading still to die. x
In all the days of this detested yoke --
This vital weight upon the struggling heart,
Which sinks with sorrow, or beats quick with pain,
or joy that ends in agony or faintness --
in all the days of past and future, for
in life there is no present, we can number
How few, how less than few, wherein the soul
Forbears to pant for death, and yet draws back
As from a stream in winter, though the chill
Be but a moment's. " (Lines 164-177)

This is well stated - days keep sneaking up on us and overtaking us; and they take from us energy, passion, and excitement, yet though bitter towards life we live on, and will not do otherwise, fearing to die. Some days we think it might be easier to die so as to be finished with "the troubles of the world," certainly for Christians we have hope to go "home to live with God, but something keeps us living.

All of Manfred that I have read (which is only some excerpts), lends to the discussion of the meaning of life. Manfred seems to feel that he has reached a spiritual plane that most do not attain to in life, and it gives him a mystic power by which to summon spirits and get his way, and eventually, to choose the moment of his death. It's very interesting, and beautifully written by Byron. It's making me think about the cynicism on life we hear so frequently, yet those that seem to despise their existence would never think to end it with suicide, most likely due to fear. I'm not advising that people sick of life should kill themselves, that's a horrible idea: but it's the same sentiment as those uninformed voters or citizens who don't vote at all yet still gripe about the way the country is run ... if you're not doing your part to make something better, do you really have room to complain about how bad it is?

I don't think so. The same with life: if you are not actively working to make your life BETTER, what gives you the right to complain about how poorly it is going? Because things don't just happen to you, leaving you as a victim in this traumatic experience of living: we all have been given power over our own lives to choose our course. So I would venture to say that if your life is despicable too you, you're probably not free from blame. Do you hate your job? Find another one. Or change your attitude. Did you know that you can improve your mental happiness by some ridiculously high percentage if you train yourself to think positively? But that's not all ... I think the whole thing is summed up in Christ, that even if you have been the victim of something that makes life awful, in Jesus there is freedom from guilt, healing from abuse and trauma, and power for changing and moving on.

Wouldn't it be a legacy of faith to die at the apex of life? That no matter how long you live, your life keeps getting better than it was before, always deeper into the Life of God, culminating in death and eternity with God?

If you're hopeless, consider this: you don't have to be. The quality of your life (starting spiritually, then working out to every area of life) is in your hands.

do it all, or nothing at all.

:: with my whole heart ::

The phrase of the season. The call of the Lover. The challenge of the beloved.

This has been a phrase heavy on my heart for a few weeks now, ever since Lindz and I did another silent retreat in Hocking Hills. The sense is that for too long I've been half-assing this thing we call "Christianity", that I've been doing it, and maybe doing all the right things, but where has my heart been?


I'm in a British Lit class this quarter, and we just got done reading Wordsworth. In the middle of a horrifically long and seemingly-pointless poem (Tintern Abbey) there is a most beautiful phrase that captured my attention:

...more like a man flying from that which he dreads,
than one who sought the thing that he loved....

In thinking about these verses, I find that they apply to my walk with the Lord, and pretty much every facet of life. I have been running into Jesus because I dread the things that are chasing me....the sure-brokenness of a life without Christ, the pain of sin, the failure of leaving the faith. So I ran AWAY from those things, not really caring what I was running to except for the fact the it would save me. But the heart there is wrong, yes the direction is right, but the motivation is fear. That won't do, God has not given us a spirit of fear.
So I see that Wordsworth is right, the only way to run to Christ is to seek Him as that which I love with my whole heart, and to run to Him for His inherent beauty, not even caring what may or may not be behind me, scorning any loss, and trusting God to save me even when I do fail.

I don't know if this makes any sense, but I wanted to post about it while it was still fresh. Perhaps there is more to come. For now, homework!!!!! .....with my whole heart?