The circus needs their entertainers…their acrobats…their death defy-ers. Those who have no regard for their lives, but nightly sway upon the rope, balancing their feet between life and breath.
The net looms on one side, safe and secure; calculated risk is a natural part of the act. On the other side lays the hard concrete of the circus floor – certain death awaits and one untoward move is the beginning of the end.
Either fall disappoints someone. The certain hard drop leaves those who you love in the cold, all for an entertainer’s wage. The net is the safe approach, but you have never been one for safety. Lately you have chosen the hard way and the possibility of the lonely sudden fall; the deathly drop is what keeps you alive and alert. The warmth and safety of the net scares you ever more.
An abundance of metaphors and imagery escapes me tonight, so I will reveal the plot...
The church in all of its safety is the net. There is comfort there. Years of routine and practice, traditions in many denominations and a heritage of faith. But my belief is a lie, one that clouds my every appearance on the doorstep. I am the worst of hypocrites. A spectator and an invisible man that warms a pew and then moves on like a ghost. I am a fog that add nothing to the discussion; a mist that appears for a while and slowly disappears.
The unprotected side is a life that depends on myself away
from the church building. I must appear to be perfect, yet remain true to
myself. But it is best for the faithful pew-fillers…they no longer have to hold
on to the expectation of what they feel I might have possessed; what they
imagine I would have added to the conversation. There is certainty that I will
not fail anyone, because my presence will not cloud the proceedings. Without me
they are no worse or no better. They trudge on without me in the picture, sing
their hymns, “Amen” their sermons, and take their bread and cup in peace.
There is not a choice that leads to happiness. I choose to
stay on the rope. Balanced between the soft and the hard; suspended between two
worlds. There is security there but the exhausting balancing act cannot go on
forever. The choice must be made.
