Unfinished Rainbows, and Other Essays by George Wood Anderson - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

 

XXI
 ABOVE THE COMMONPLACE OF SIN

INDIVIDUALITY is one of God’s ways of expressing his greatness. His voice penetrates the centuries like the sound of silver bells, but there is never an echo. No duplicates are ever found among the works of God’s creative power. He gives his gifts unto the world with boundless generosity, but through the centuries no single gift has ever found its counterpart. Everything coming from the hand of God is original, unique, entirely dissimilar to anything else in the realm of nature. No two oak leaves are alike. They may be cut from the same pattern, so that, no matter where you find them drifting in the winds, you instantly recognize them, saying, “These are oak leaves”; yet, of all the millions of leaves that have unfolded upon branches of the oaks of countless ages, no two have been identical in size or form or in the delicate tracery of the tiny veins which are as delicate as hoarfrost, yet strong as leaden pipes.

God never duplicates. The wild rose is a simple flower, possessing but five petals, held securely in the golden chalice of pollen-laden stamens. Nothing could possibly be more liable of duplication than this quaint flower of simple garb, yet of all the wild-rose blooms gathered by lovers’ hands and pressed to maidens’ lips, of all the wild-rose blooms that grace the old-fashioned gardens and trellis the fences of the country roads with their picturesque, sublime simplicity, no two are alike. God so respects the pretty things about which human sentiment revolves that no two are cast from the same mold. Consider the blossom that you once kissed, and pressing, stored away. It is hidden in a secret place, intended for no eyes save your own, and viewed only through the clear tears that memory revives. Guard it with the tenderest care, for God will never make another blossom just like it. He respects the tender affections of your heart that chose this blossom from a lover’s hand to be the sweetest, fairest blossom of your life.

When a mother stoops and plucks a blossom from her baby’s grave, covers it with mingled tears and kisses, and puts it away between the leaves of the family Bible, thus binding in one cover the sweetest sentiments of this world and the best hopes and aspirations of a better world, she does a beautiful thing, and our heavenly Father so honors her love and reverence for her precious dead that, though a thousand centuries come and go, he will never make another blossom just like that.

We love all mountains because of their rugged strength and majesty, yet no two mountains are alike, for to the mountains God has given personality. The Rockies stand like naked giants with knotted muscles ever ready to grapple with storms that smite their rugged sides, rejoicing, like strong men, at the ease with which they break the strength of their adversary, and hurl the whirlwind, like a helpless zephyr, into the mighty chasms at their feet. The Alps are like a procession of kings, bejeweled and berobed for coronation day. To see the Alps is to have a holiday and have one’s soul thrilled with boyhood’s wonderment and praise. The Catskills are a languid group of charming country folk with whom you can sit and chat, and feel the magic wonderment of childhood creeping through the soul, as you listen to quaint voices repeat their myths and legends. No two mountains are alike, for God likes versatility in heaped-up piles of rock as much as in fluttering leaves and blooming flowers.

No two sunsets are alike. The hanging tapestries of the west may be woven in the same looms of mist, and dyed in the same vats of scarlet, purple, red, and orange; they may be laced with the same golden strands of unraveled sunbeams; and their drapery may reveal the self-same angel touch, yet no two sunsets are alike, each having its own individuality, and living forever as a master painting to beautify the walls of memory. Well do youth and maiden stand with clasped hands as they face the sunset. Let them feast upon its gorgeous beauty until their hearts are filled with light and love, for they shall never see another sunset just like that. Returning to the valley’s old familiar paths, where they shall walk together amid their mingled lights and shades, they shall rejoice through many years because of the brilliancy of that one sunset which God made for them, and for them alone.

This love for originality is seen in the play of the wild waves’ crest whose molten silver falls into beads and necklaces and pendants of unequaled workmanship to fill the unseen jewel caskets of the deep.

What is true of the natural world is also true of man. Consider the variations of the human face. Reflecting upon the limited number of features, one is amazed to think that such an infinite combination of facial forms and expressions can be created. There are only two eyes, two ears, one nose and one mouth, and yet out of that small combination, behold what God hath wrought! From the soft, pink rosebud of a baby’s smiling face, looking with wistful wonderment at a newly found world; through all the charming sweetness of maiden’s cheek and love-laden eyes; through all the grandeur of the hero’s chiseled features; through the glory of motherhood smiling affectionately upon her little brood; through manhood making battle for home and righteousness—through all these until, at last, you behold the unequaled beauty, majesty, grandeur, and dignity of old age, no two countenances are alike.

The glory of God is revealed through individuality. No two persons are alike in form or feature, gift or grace. No two minds have exactly the same characteristics. No two souls look upon life from identical viewpoint, so that each one varies in his conception of events and expression of art and letters. A king wears the crown of his predecessor, but for each brow God has fashioned the fairer crown of individuality. Men, as God made them, are not pegs to be placed in holes, but kings, to sit upon thrones and rule kingdoms all their own. “Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee,” are the words of Jehovah when he wished to impress Jeremiah with the infinite care with which he had been prepared for a noble work.

To endeavor to reshape this divinely appointed life and mold it after an earthly, man-made pattern is the height of folly, yet this is the demand of very much of our modern social life. Society employs a system of repression, the subduing and crushing of deep emotions, and substituting a shallow artificiality. It curbs all naturalness in development and demands a conformity to certain rigid molds in which every word, gesture, thought, and impulse must be cast. Instead of employing the art of expression, permitting the deep feelings to find normal outlet, and allowing the salutary unfolding of individual strength and grace, they check and curb and repress until the beauty and normalcy of life is gone. Our present system of society custom and usages cannot produce great character.

Failing to recognize individuality as the universal plan, many educators mistake their function, endeavoring to mold men according to their conceptions rather than instructing men. Instead of leading the mind away from the narrow cloister of tradition, form, and ceremonialism, into the open air where it can function normally, and unfold its strength and beauty in perfect individualism, many intellectual leaders continue the practice of pitilessly dwarfing minds and stunting souls.

Sin also leads to the commonplace. Realizing that man’s strength lies in developing those characteristics that mark personality, the arch enemy of the soul is ever endeavoring to destroy them. He tempts to sin, knowing well that there is no other agency so powerful in destroying individuality. Sin never lifts men upward toward lofty heights but always levels downward. It knows no royalty of character, so it tears down thrones, casts man’s crown aside, blurs the eye, palsies the nerve, blotches the countenance, deadens the brain, hardens the heart, and makes its victim a member of the common herd. Sin is not error; it is poison that stunts the growing aspirations, dwarfs the spiritual nature, lowers spiritual vitality, and completely destroys all the royal gifts of God that would distinguish one in character and achievement.

Therefore righteousness must be preached as never before. Only through virtue can one lift himself above the commonplace and his individuality reach its maximum power. Wrongdoing destroys while right living makes possible the complete development of all the noble faculties of the soul, permitting one to experience the fullest possible realization of life. Men must not be repressed by the foolish processes of a misguided social, educational, or evil custom. Righteousness must be preached that youth may know the freedom of goodness and the joy of righteousness. As birds greet the dawn, by rising on rapturous wing and filling the blue with exultant song, let youth and maiden greet the coming day with gladness as they rise above the commonplace of sin. The Divine plan for their lives must not be marred by sin or foolishness. The uniqueness and originality of God’s plan are the secrets of success. The joys of righteousness are too valuable to exchange for the misery and heartache of a wasted life.