“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?
No comments:
Post a Comment