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The Search, Part TwoJan 02 '05 Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line Copyright 2005 David MacDonald
http://www.epinions.com/content_4202406020: part one http://www.epinions.com/content_4202471556: part two http://www.epinions.com/content_4202537092: part three http://www.epinions.com/content_4202602628: part four I don’t know what made me start going to church, that first fateful Sunday in May. Maybe it was merely to spice up my life. Maybe it was just to make things a little different from events such as the previous evening. I was promised to hear conversation and dialogue much different from what words I’d be able to make out at a deafening club. I never really considered myself deeply religious. But something drew me here. What was it exactly? Today, the night after my frivolous encounter with Bruno, I was sitting here in the church, listening to a deeply felt sermon. Typically, the minister dealt with more general spiritual concerns, but this week he was a bit more topical, and it was revealed in the words he said. “...... as you all have no doubt heard,” he declared to the congregation, “the government has shut down the Tyne Valley Hospital Emergency Room. The government says it has been recommended to do so, for the safety of the community and the hospital’s patients. In this world, where there is so much damage to our social fabric, where there is so many problems facing this world, we should be quite wary of a decision that would deprive our citizens of being close to a medical facility. Is it God’s hope for His flock to be denied one of the basic elements of a common society, the loss of doctors, the loss of potentially lifesaving institutions and equipment? I think not. It is true that we should always accept God’s will when it comes to our health. It is God who has the ultimate power over us. But our doctors and nurses are incredibly gifted in assisting the natural order of things -- in allowing us to be fruitful during the time God has given us to be on this earth. Our social fabric is slowly being dismantled, with the assistance of those who we’ve elected to uphold our social fabric! The government focuses too much on money. The government focuses too much on appeasing special interest groups. The government focuses too much on the absolute freedom of the individual, rather than the needs of the collective community. The government should be helping our communities. Helping our neighbors. Making sure we have enough to eat. Making sure we have access to health care. Making sure we are taken care of, as a group........” Everybody else around me reacted in their own idiosyncratic fashion. Quite a few of them were watching politely at the minister as he spoke his thoughts. A number of older people were nodding their heads. What if they were the ones way out in the remote portions of Prince Edward Island, succumbing one day to the things older people were more susceptible to? Before, they could be guaranteed a trip to the hospital in about five minutes. Now, they’d have to pray to God they’d be able to make it to Summerside before something gave out. I sat and thought. There wasn’t a whole lot out there, I don’t think. A few stores, little restaurants, maybe. Losing part of a hospital would only make the void within a small community grow larger, wouldn’t it? Brian sat a few pews away from me. I could only see the back of his head, so I had no idea what he thought. I had the impression he would be in agreement with the minister. After all, Brian had went to this church for a number of years. He was the sort of guy who took this stuff seriously. Perhaps a bit more seriously than I ever could. I’ve known him for a while. I saw him the first day I went to this church. But it was only really in the last four or five weeks in which I really got to exchange any meaningful words with him. It was one of those things where I didn’t talk to him much until we found ourselves sitting beside each other in a pew. We shared the hymn book , although our voices weren’t quite balanced. But it was okay. It was an excuse to talk a bit after the service. It was only a couple of weeks later where I said much more than a hi, a goodbye and a few basic words of chitchat before the minister began to speak. I was like this toward everyone in the beginning. I often walked out of the building as soon as everyone else was rustling with their jackets and purses. I’d have escaped from the property by one minute after noon. As I became more used to the people, however, I delayed my escape. The guests were pretty ordinary people. But to me, they were extraordinary. They were mothers and fathers with children. They were aunts and uncles. They were grandparents. And who was I? Just a cute twenty-something working-class girl, a waitress who lived on minimum wage and tips, who had no particular connection to anything. I felt so unlike them. They had always went to this church. The pews, the carpets, the very air inside this chilled building, flowed along with their blood. But I was little except an outsider. I had to prove to them that I belonged here -- but I didn’t know how. If some of the older people in this church knew what I was up to the previous night, I’m sure they’d be stunned. They may keep their critiques in their hearts, but it would still be real. But maybe I was being foolish. These people were no different from me, were they? Nah, they were. They were here because their families went here. They were here because it was part of a tradition. And why was I here? I was here just because I thought I’d find someone better within a church than within a bar. Yup, I’m going to hell. Well, I did believe I found him. Brian was much the single outsider I was. I kept staring at the back of his head, wondering at his reasons for finding religion. After the service, I noticed Brian talking with John and his wife Sarah. The three stood close to one of the middle pews, and seemed to be engaged in a pleasant conversation. “Hey, Brian.”, insinuating myself into the circle. “Hey, Sandra!”, he said, still laughing from whatever was said earlier. “What’s going on?”, I asked. He was looking at me in a very curious way. “You’re looking quite... dressed up... this morning.”, he smirked. “Oh thanks... but it’s only an old shirt and my jacket.” I had unzipped my dark purple jacket, and beneath that was my white tank top. I never figured the top was all that inappropriate here -- it was the summer, after all. “Ah yea....” He seemed to be unsure whether to divide his attention between me and the other two. “So are you doing anything this afternoon?” We had went out a couple of Sunday afternoons, just for coffee, a walk around the city. Sundays were pretty peaceful in Charlottetown. “How ‘bout I get back to you on that one?”, he said, pointing at me casually. “Actually, I’m going down to John and Sarah’s later on today. Someone from a church over in Summerside is coming over, and we’re going to have some lunch, sing some songs, stuff like that.....” I nod. “What kind of songs?” I ask. “Aw, not the boring old sermons you hear every week!” he laughed. “He’s in a Christian band.....sings some of his own stuff, and some from other artists.” His gaze continued to be rather curious towards me. “Would you like to come over?” “Bryan....”, I giggled, placing my hand on his forearm. “Church is only an hour a week. I think God will understand if you take the rest of the day off!” He laughed quietly and shook his head. His eyes shifted toward the floor as he did so. “Yea, I’m sure he’ll understand if you took the rest of the day off.”, he grinned, his eyes returning to my face. “He’s used to most people not doing that.” I gasped, inaudibly - at least I believed it was so. “Well, if you change your mind.... ring me up.....” He gave a stiff, awkward wave as if he was slightly embarrassed about showing me the gesture. He then began walking across the strip of carpet wedged between the pews, up to the front doors of the church. Along the way, he lay his eyes on friends, engaging in small idle talk and salutations. Humph! I felt jilted. It was like being at a wedding, and the guy left me to stand all alone at the altar while he chatted up the guests. I looked over to John and Sarah who didn’t seem to be certain whether I was about to exit the building along with everyone else. “Sandra,” , Sarah asked, “how are you?” “Oh...” I gasp. “Not too bad, and yourself?” “I thought it was a lovely sermon this morning.” “so did I. I totally got what he was saying today.” “I know I wouldn’t want to risk my life just by living up west -- what if you were having a heart attack? What if, heaven forbid, somebody had a drug overdose? I know those three doctors up in Tyne Valley would be expert enough -- if they weren’t there, is someone going to pray to God they live before they arrive in Charlottetown.” This was a little too saddening to hear. Hospitals closing down and people with no place to go were subjects I didn’t want to burden my head with on a Sunday morning. I’d rather come here just to listen to pleasant sentiments and talk to pleasant people. But the pain of current truths seemed inescapable. * I decided I’d ring Brian up after all. The truth was I seemed to want a little too much control, to do what I wanted instead of what the other person wanted. I ought to just let go of it for one afternoon. Who knows, it might have been fun. John and Sarah’s house was quite comforting. The living room was very cozy. The carpet was an earthy brown. The sofas were plush, like a sleepy hill where the ground was soft to lay on, but without the wet and the mud associated with soft ground. A lot of people were there. Some I knew from the church, while others I didn’t. They all were grabbing something from the living room table, which had plates of snacks upon it. I sat beside him on the sofa. He still had that peculiar look he had when we left church this morning. His eyes were examining me, examining every part of my being, uncertain as to how to react to me. He saw this girl, who mysteriously wandered in from the outdoors into his sacred place. He wondered what her game was. And now, he was hoping I’d finally release my secret and temporal soul from its bearings, and sacrifice it all to what he represented. But obviously he wasn’t content to wait for me to say anything. So he slipped in a story during our conversation. “I was sitting in a bar one night. It was the same place I went to a few times a week. I would sit there, usually by myself, and drink a pitcher of beer. Sometimes a few people would visit me, but sometimes I was alone.” I couldn’t look squarely toward his face. I knew if I did, I’d see the patterns of all of us ordinary folk marked along the crevices of his face. “... I would never leave the bar until that whole pitcher was empty. Either by myself, or myself with a group of others.” Well, what’s the sense of buying it if you’re not going to finish it, I’d say. “Well, then this girl walked up to me. I knew her a little bit from university. She and I didn’t talk a whole lot, but we were aware of each other.” Uh-huh. “She looked at me and she asked me if I were really enjoying that pitcher of beer I was so intent on consuming. I said of course I was, but it would be nicer if you went ahead and joined me.” And who was this girl? Your angel? “She said she didn’t drink beer, at least not the way I drank it. She told me I was filling an empty void in my life. I told her she was crazy. But my insults weren’t sincere. She had a, um, calm expression. It was so placid. It was so drained of ..... I can’t describe it. It was merely a face of truth. I could tell that when I saw her. I felt my heart relax.” “Just like that!” I said. “She told me she was a Christian. She told me she was in the very same spot I was in -- drinking away her life instead of confronting it.” “And she got you to change just like that?”, I asked again, as I picked off another piece of cheese from the plate. “Well, not quite.....” “Oh, I see.... you probably just wanted to get into her pants first!” I joked. “Was she pretty??” Brian’s face cracked into a smile, but he reacted into a quiet shame to it. “It wasn’t ... quite like that.....” “Oh.” “She kept coming back, even after I completely laughed her off. She didn’t act like a shallow woman with an agenda. She simply wanted to look out for me.” “oh......” The term came out muffled. I guess I didn’t know how to respond. “There’s a whole lot more out there than what you know. I mean, what do you do every weekend. What’s it all for?” Brian asked me his questions as a show of concern. He thought he’d be playing to my guilt if he asked me these questions. Maybe he was. “well... no, it’s not.. particularly amazing.” “No, probably not . The only thing I can tell you is that Jesus is on your side. He died for our sins -- He died for us. Remember that. Our little petty issues are nothing to what He did for us.” I bit into another piece of cheese. I hoped the taste would somehow dilute the crumminess I felt right now. He was right. I was quite petty. I was so worried about my glasses about how people would react to this face of mine if I kept them on. I was intent on making a fool of myself with some guy, who I had no intention of loving. What would Jesus say? “He told us we were weak, but He forgave us. He wanted us to strive for something better and you can do that.” My eyes glanced briefly to the other side of the room. I noticed Sarah talking with someone else, and laughing. It seemed like I was the only person in the room who had to listen to a serious conversation. Everyone else was laughing, enjoying themselves -- much like I would be if I had hung out with Carol, I suppose. My eyes began to well up. “I’m sorry, Brian.” “It’s okay....” He placed his hand on my hair. He switched a few strands from one side of my shoulder to the other, before pulling his arm back. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he actually wanted to touch me. But obviously Jesus told him not to touch the merchandise. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to react to your words.” I said. “I feel so wounded. You’ve got me reexamining everything in my life. This is just way too complicated for me!” “That’s what I did too.” “But why do I have to do this?” “Because --- well, because God wants us to. He wants us to use our free will and think of what we really want from our lives.” Sarah and her friend were embroiled in another fit of laughter. The snippets I heard from their conversation suggested they were talking about the latest movie they saw. “..... Richard Gere is pretty old,” Sarah said, “... but I still like him.” “You know, I remember when he was young......”, her friend Cecile said, “well, that would mean I was pretty young too.” “We’re so old!”, Sarah laughed. “I remember watching An Officer and a Gentleman, and American Gigolo......” Cecile said, with a wide smile. “Pretty good-looking back then.” Here were two women, pillars of the church, talking about some old actor who apparently was one stud back in the day. I would have liked to tell them there were people from this generation who were pretty hot themselves........ “Do you believe in God?” he asked, denying me those ungodly thoughts. Now he asked the tough questions. He didn’t just want me to review the minutes of my life, but to talk in depth about something I wasn’t sure existed. “Um.... yea, sure, I do.” I said. “I knew you did.” Whew. “What do you think about Jesus as your savior?” Gaah! I’d rather think about whatever Sarah and Cecile were talking about. “Ah... I don’t know,” struggling for words. “It was a tough break, man. He got nailed to a cross just because he went around giving speeches to everyone. If every guy who went around making speeches and tried to convince people they knew how the world should work were killed, then we wouldn’t have any politicians left!” Brian shook his head, laughing as he did so. “But his death was preordained. His whole purpose was to die for our sins; to show there was someone out there who cares for us on Earth.” I admit, it was kind of moving. “Hmmm...... that’s a heavy burden for one guy to carry.” “He wasn’t a guy. He is the Son of God. For thousands of years, people have known this, and they devoted their lives to Him. But it will take time before everyone in the world will realize this.” I obviously was only one of many who was to learn the truth. “And it’s happening, Sandra. I mean, look at George W. Bush.....” “He... he’s fighting a war. I don’t know if he’s the best example....” “But look at all the people who have voted for him; all the people who believe in faith, in the Christian way of life. The leader of the free world has been voted in by so many people of faith -- they are telling him that this is the way the world should be.” “But I don’t understand. Bush shouldn’t be the one setting example for the whole world.” “But it isn’t just him... it’s part of a whole pattern. Archeologists are starting to find things which prove all the things that happened in the Bible are true. They... they found the jars which Jesus used when he turned water into wine......” “That doesn’t mean anything.....” “Well, it does if you are willing to believe. To take that leap of faith. It’s an exciting time, Sandra.” My heart tripped over itself. Was I scared or was I thrilled. “Yea, really!”, I breathe. I couldn’t think straight. When I watched heavy declarations of faith on TV, or if they were safely behind the pulpit, I reflected on the statements in a detached fashion. This time, however, I was in a room surrounded by those sentiments. I was sitting beside someone who was deeply convinced this stuff was true. I no longer could detach myself. I was overwhelmed. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe there was some kind of divine plan. A few soft rings from an acoustic guitar came from another end of the room. The singer Brian told me about was toying with the sounds and the lyrics. He obviously didn’t want to draw attention to himself, but I became aware of what he was saying. “..... when I open my eyes, you're the first thing I see. A vision once clouded, I feel Your presence over me from when the sun comes up 'til I fall asleep at night. I know You'll be there When I open my eyes....” If he weren’t a religious guy, I’d think he was singing some love song. There was something almost erotic about it. Feeling your presence over me? You’ll be there when I open my eyes? I’ve felt presences over me. But it’s been a long time since I’ve opened my eyes to see someone beside me. And usually if I did, I never saw them too many times in that situation. He continued rasping his lyrics. “Now granted... I've been here a time or two. I've learned, I've lived And now I've learned again. I pray that I... I might become like You I've got nothing to lose.” “That’s really good.....” I tell Brian. “He plays pretty often at the church in Summerside. Mostly he plays for the youth groups..... it’s people like him who are helping people our age finding God.....” I don’t know if I found God. But He may have found me. Or at least one of His cheerleaders found me...... http://www.epinions.com/content_4202537092: part three Note: the lyrics aren't my own -- I was looking around the internet for half-interesting lyrics, and I found some at a Christian music lyric website (I forget the name). These lyrics are from a song called "When I open my eyes" by Across the Sky.  |
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