The Written LAB-Oratory

Presenting Truth disguised as Fiction. And exposing Fiction disguised as Truth.

Posts Tagged ‘Christmas

A Christmas Gift: The Sheer Madness of Love.

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The great problem I would have with being an atheist, let alone, an antitheist, is my intense lack of faith in accidents on such an immense scale.  I play poker (poorly) and know the odds of hitting a simple inside straight or making a royal flush on the river.  Of course if you do suck out, the odds on that hand are 1 in 1.  But to believe that your hand’s success invalidates the shear reality of math is a kind of willful hubris that I just don’t have the imagination to trust.

I look out on the night sky and see a vast universe that may be one of many.  I live on a planet that is one of many in a solar system that is one many in a galaxy that is one of many.  I am a man, one of many in a species that trundles along throughout history with other species of flora and fauna.  To the atheist, this is proof that we are nothing special.  They have an abundance of faith in utility, matter, blind luck.

But in my lack of faith I don’t see evidence of the mundane.  I see the efforts of a mad lover trying to express Himself through his art.  Each life a sonnet.  Each star a symphony.  …every opus littering the work shop of an obsessed artist struggling to be understood through, and by, his children.

It’s a condition every small “c” creator understands.  Half-finished poems.  Long ago penned notes strung uneasily on treble and base. Sculpture mocking from beneath the stone.  Great bends of metal that refuse to conform to image of the mind.  All scattered about as his uneasy mind hurriedly tries to capture the latest inspiration, trying to get this one right, only to find, it too, has a mind of its own.

Writer or welder, thespian or terpsichorean… We all search for that elusive place where inspiration intersects with reality.  And even when the work is done as best we can complete it… When we put pen or torch down.  When scene has cut and coda done…  The ache begins.  What is next?

A creator creates because he has no choice.  To stifle that impulse, is to induce despair in a mind diseased by love of creation itself.  That is the universe(s) I see; madness reaching out to its creations, begging to be understood.  For only when the creations understand the creator does the creator find that bliss of perfection.  Which may well be why all artists are just a bit off center.  We will never have a story say, “thank you,” or an expertly performed pirouette look back at its dancer in awe.

I can’t be an atheist for, at my heart’s core, I am an artist and I recognize the sketches and sheet music that a mind, undone by its need to make real its passions, has strewn across math, science, and matter. I see the love notes in the vast cosmos and smile while at the same time cursing my pitiful craft… The ache is always there.

I understand God.   I don’t fathom it.  I will never comprehend it. But I understand.  So this Christmas, I will give you the only gift I can think apropos and the one gift I will almost surely never receive:

Thank you.

Written by lablount

December 25, 2012 at 6:57 pm

Posted in Catholic, Christmas, Religious

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