Do you hear the people sing,Lost in the valley of the night?
It is the music of a people
Who are climbing to the light.
For the wretched of the earth,
There is a flame that never dies--
Even the darkest night will end
And the sun will rise.
They will live again in freedom
In the freedom of the Lord.
They will walk behind the plowshare. They will put away the sword.
The chain will be broken...
-Les Miserables the Musical
Those different parts oppose each other within my heart just as they oppose each other within the world--some cosmic battle of light and dark, good and evil, hope and despair. To ignore that battle would be, in a subtle way, as destructive as following that evil side of things into the void (see Lewis' Screwtape Letters). Solzhenitsyn put it this way:
"Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either, but right through every human heart, and through all human hearts. This line shifts. Inside us, it oscillates with the years. Even within hearts overwhlemed by evil, one small bridgehead of good is retained; and even in the best of all hearts, there remains a small corner of evil."
So then, where is the good and true and light and hopeful? What is it? I think it's in the illogical things, the things that don't make sense, the things that go against everything that makes sense. It's the things the "mad ones" are after, in a world where there are so many sane people.
Things like this, when taken only at face value, looking for the depth of truth within them:
"Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."
-Matthew 5:3-10
It's easy for me these days to forget the truth found within these words and many of the others because of the vast amount of religious baggage that alights upon my shoulders whenever I open that book--bags filled with the pain I've felt from ideology and dogma, bags filled with laws and labels and doctrinal statements, bags filled with knowledge that the same things have us hurtling toward a crumbling future of unsustainable ways of life, and bags filled with the screams of the innocents burned and tortured and killed for some man's interpretation of similar words. That darkness seeks to rob me of my sight when these things that are, at heart, true are tied up in a place and in people where I grew up who continually tell me that everything I know to be true is wrong and stupid. Illogical. Misguided. Irresponsible. But regardless, there is truth in these words, truth that could change everything, that can and will change everything, that has been changing everything since the beginning of all things (that truth is embedded in the threads that run between and beneath and above and within all things).
So how to know the difference?
"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things."
-Philippians 4:8
But what are those things?
I think it goes back to Solzhenitsyn's words--all of us have something within us that can tell where those things are, because "even in hearts overwhelmed by evil, one small bridgehead of good remains." And it's a confusing world we live in, where the good things can look like the bad things, and the tiny corners of evil that remain in all of our hearts can look like the good things, but I have hope and have to keep believing that when we peel back the layers of our environments and all of our humanity, we can tell the difference, because there's something that each of us feel or have felt or can feel that always seems to come through the fog or the clouds or the night and cannot be covered or hidden. I think that thing is love, "for to love another person is to see the face of God" (Les Miserables the Musical).
What is it I believe?
"Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."
-1 Corinthians 13:4-8
That's a powerful thing, the most powerful thing. The thing through which our eyes can tell the difference between good and evil, through which our eyes can see the lines cutting between. The thing that can change everything, will change everything, IS changing everything. Like a lens through which everything hazy becomes sharp, or which everything in color becomes monochromatic, this thing will show us the way, illogical as it always seems to be. But only if we let it.
I would rather follow the illogical things, and be mad,
than follow the logical things and be sane.
I would rather experience the deepest sorrows to feel in their entirety the truest joys
than to seek the easy status quo, where everything exists in mediocrity.
I would rather feel the worst pains to feel the deepest love,
than avoid them so as not to feel at all.
I would rather search for vividness in all its peaks and valleys
than be comfortable.
I would rather remember what that vividness felt like, even when it hurts,
than forget so as to feel no pain at all.
I would rather live dazzled by the mystery of it all
than be confined to a box built by human hands, for what are boxes but things we create to "understand?"
I would rather set sail into an endless sea or set foot in a trackless forest
than sit within cathedrals that crumble and fall.
I would rather put my hope and faith in love
than quantifiable things like markets and economics and rationales and empirical observations.
I would rather burn, with all the pain of hope and fire,
than cooly walk through life in the safe places, for those places may indeed be the most dangerous of all.
And apparently I would rather wax philosophic than... grow up?
I would rather love.
And upon that ground, will I take my stand--will I fight.
:-)
Love wins.
Hope and fire,
Will
