From Agony and the Esctasy (biographical novel about Michelangelo):
"I'm not well designed," thought the thirteen year old with serious concentration. "My head is out of rule with the forehead overweighing my moth and chin. Someone should have used a plumb line..." With rapid strokes of the crayon he began redrafting his features, widening the oval of the eyes, rounding the forehead, broadening the narrow cheeks, making the lips fuller....
Good morning Monday. The effort today will not be to undertake an effort to redraft myself, convinced that if only I had a different look, a different personality, more money that things would be better and I would be content with myself- convinced that the problem is external rather than internal and convinced that if only things were different than they would be better.
Will I ever not fear failing to measure up to the standards that I set for myself, the standards that I imagine that my wife, brother, mother, have fore me? Will I ever not fear that I will not meaure up to the standards of this world ("To whom much has been given, much will be expected.")? My fear that my imperfections will be apparent rather than hidden and that it will be exposed that my job is not that impressive or that I am not that thoughtful (how does one compete with CPP?). How can I possibly hide my faults and failures? How can I possibly avoid being detected for who I am- like Michelangelo- not that well designed?
The Gospel proclaims that nothing I can do can mend me or fix me; that there is nothing I can do to redraft myself and nothing in this world (either that I do, or someone else does for me) has the ability to fix me. The things that I wish I didn't do or wish I didn't feel are inescapable and I am a complete recidivist. But praise the Lord, the true judge who has risen from the dead does not condemn us. Therefore, there is no condemnation...
DRP
No comments:
Post a Comment