“The temptation for farandola or for man or for star is to stay an immature pleasure-seeker. When we seek our own pleasure as the ultimate good we place ourselves as the center of the universe. A fara or a man or a star has his place in the universe, but nothing created is the center.”1
It’s the temptation for everyone, for every living thing to stay forever young and live the carefree life of pleasure. Responsibilities are time consuming. They take hard work. They take deep thinking. They take work ethic. They take certain levels of maturity that make you leave childhood far behind. And because of this, we back away from adulthood. As teenagers, we’d rather live in a world of parties and road trips and spring breaks and summer. Who cares if that means you can’t have a job or you don’t have an income; that’s what parents are for, right?
“You are created matter, Sporos. You are part of the great plan, an indispensable part. You are needed, Sporos; you have your own unique share in the freedom of creation.”2
As we carelessly swing through life, drinking in carefree days full of here-and-now mentalities, we kill the future, slowly sucking the life from our planet, from our galaxy, from life itself. One person, one teenager who throws his life to the wind to live off of the hard work of others can throw the balance of the universe. Why? Because each and every individual is a designed and indispensable part of creation; an atom in the molecular makeup of the carefully balanced universe.
It’s so much easier to rely on others; your parents, the government, the President you helped elect because he provides you with more food stamps. So you cheat the system. You live as a king, relying on those who work their butts off to keep the system alive. In reality, you would die without the system. If the system shut down, you would be the first to scream about the injustice of it all. But today, you did nothing, absolutely nothing to help preserve the system. You think your parents have got your back. They work hard to give you an easy life. They carry your part of the system. But in reality, it doesn’t work that way. No one can carry someone else's part of the system. Everyone, from the janitor who thinks no one notices his hard work to the entrepreneur who steps out on a limb to chase his dreams to the artist who throws away a secure life to follow her passion to the retired businessman who owns three ranches and five speed boats; everyone has a part to play that is so uniquely fit to themselves that no one else could even decipher the script. You cannot rely on your parents or the government or your caring friends. Not simply because that would make you a despicable parasite on the system, sucking the life out of our entire universe itself, but because you are you and no one else can play your part in this world. It’s because you are a creation and every creation was formed with an incredible part to play in the freedom of the universe.
Humans are born with this terrible thing called prejudice. The janitor thinks no one cares that he works long, hard hours just to get a low salary. He looks at the man who earns $300,000 a year and he has this feeling that no one will ever understand. The entrepreneur thinks everyone is against him. He looks at the businessmen who are so prosperous and he gets the feeling that he’s a minnow in shark infested waters. The artist thinks she’s not getting her thoughts across well enough. She looks at all the artists who are payed so much to paint pictures with no point and she gets the feeling that her deep-feeling works will never make it. The retired businessman thinks maybe it was all for nothing. He looks at the young man recklessly throwing his life into missions and he just feels dried up and useless.
But they all forget. They forget that they are creations in this beautifully orchestrated universe. They forget that every atom in the world harmonizes to make the beautiful song that holds our universe together perfectly. They forget that as creations, they have unique purposes worked over for ages just for them to fulfill. They forget that without each of them, the universe would have tilted out of balance.
The janitor forgets that the artist sees his hard work and thanks God every day for someone who has that level of commitment. The entrepreneur forgets that the janitor admires his daring steps out into a world of achievers. The artist forgets that the retired businessman loves the way she carelessly threw security to the wind to follow her deepest passion. And the retired businessman forgets that he was the one who gave the entrepreneur his biggest dream.
We live in a world that forgets to be relational. We don’t even know our next-door-neighbor’s name, much less that he’s struggling financially and desperately trying to make it in life. We forget that he, as much as ourselves, has an incredible, unique purpose to fulfill in the freedom of creation. And we forget that without him, our song in creation would be missing a vital part of the harmony. These prejudices we all have, that we shove up into a false front whenever we think we could be hurt; they kill. They kill our thoughts in a way that we forget the purpose others have in the world. They kill our feeling of purpose. They kill our feeling of a need for others. They kill our desire to give to the freedom of creation. But they can’t kill our deepest desires for communion. All humans were born with prejudice, but we were also born with this aching need that screams for the communion with fellow creations.
“Now that I am rooted I am no longer limited by motion. Now I may move anywhere in the universe. I sing with the stars. I dance with the galaxies. I share in the joy-and in the grief. We farae must have our part in the rhythm of the mitochondria, or we cannot be. If we cannot be, then we are not...By our arrogance we make Yadah [the speaker’s galaxy] suffer.”3
We have to lay aside our base desires for carefree life and realize this universe has a deep need for us, just as we have a deep need for communion and yes, responsibility. Without responsibility, without throwing yourself into the system and giving to the freedom of creation, you cannot fulfill your need for communion. It’s when you let the walls of prejudice fall down that you feel like a part of this world. It’s when you feel part of this world that you can recklessly give to the universe. And it’s when you recklessly give to this universe that you find your purpose and the bliss of communion.
The carefree life sounds wonderful. But when you dare to realize that you are part of the harmony of creation and God has given you this incredibly unique part to play in the universe, then you want to be responsible. Why live off your parents? Why elect the President who will give you the most handouts? Why live the carefree life because you think someone else will pick up the slack? Why when you can tear down the wall of prejudice and actually be a part of the incredible plan for the universe? Why when you can take on responsibilities and give to the system and gain in return the communion with others that your heart is screaming for? Why when you can belong, when you can truly become a part of this harmony that forms creation?
It’s never, never too late to truly give to this beautiful, broken world and the beautifully broken people in it. But why would you wait when you know that giving is the only way you can fulfill the incredible, adventure-filled purpose that God formed and planned just for you to carry out? Why would you wait when you can add your voice to the beautiful harmony of the universe?
Notes
- Madeleine L’Engle. “A Wind in the Door.” pg. 178.
- Ibid., pg. 193.
- Ibid., pg. 190.
