Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

#849 A Voice in the Night- Steven Millhauser


#849 A Voice in the Night- Steven Millhauser

This is an allegorical story about faith. Maybe not so allegorical as it references the book of Samuel from the bible. There are three arcs that are being told in this tale. The first is a re-telling of the boy Samuel who was called in the night by Gog in the house of Eli. The second is about a boy in modern time that was scared by the Samuel story and was kept awake waiting in vain for his name to be called. The third is that same boy, now 68 near death looking back questioning his life and wondering why faith never came.

The boy’s story is interesting. Some biblical stories are outright frightening when heard as a child; booming voices, burning bushes, angry vengeance, it will keep you up at night.

“But the voice in the night is as scary as witches. The voice in the night knows you’re their, even though you’re hidden in the dark. If the voice calls your name, you have to answer. The boy imagines the voice calling his name. It comes from the ceiling. It comes from the walls. It’s like a terrible touch all over his body. He doesn’t want to hear the voice, but if he hears it, he’ll have to answer.”

That’s the point I guess, to scare you into faith. But what if you do take it all literally and wait for the voice to call you in the dark. When it doesn’t come, you think you weren’t chosen. Then what? How long do you wait for the voice? Is faith something you wait for, or is it something you search for? And the most intriguing question to me is, if you had a choice, would you want to hear that voice calling you? There are no half-measures for those who have been chosen.

“If the voice calls your name, your other life is over. There’s no going back.”

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

#594 Anyone Else But Me- Lucia Perillo


#594 Anyone Else But Me- Lucia Perillo

Prairie Rose doesn’t know who her father is. Her mother Ruth either doesn’t know or won’t tell her enough information for her to track him down. After all these years, it is becoming harder and less likely she will ever find out. It would, in a way, take a miracle.

Oddly enough, Rose’s current job is working maintenance for the town’s Miracle Management Response Team. Chemical runoff and environmental conditions has caused the image of the Virgin Mary to appear on a seawall causing all sorts of havoc for the area. People coming from all around just for a look, usually leaving trash and spending money—and isn’t that a perfect description of modern life: leaving trash, spending money, and staring at a wall looking for meaning, waiting for a miracle.

The woman are polar opposites and are each in need of different things. Ruth is looking for peace, while Rose is looking for answers. “Prairie Rose doesn’t understand how her mother could be satisfied with so little; Ruth doesn’t understand how a person’s life could accommodate much more.”

Ruth is kind of a modern take of people’s view of the Virgin Mary. She keeps pretty silent and yet everyone has an opinion about her—she is promiscuous, she is a nun, she is deaf, etc. Eventually unless protected and bolstered by faith, all miracles fade and wash back into the ocean.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

#455 Zaabalawi- Naguib Mahfouz


#455 Zaabalawi- Naguib Mahfouz

A man is afflicted and in need of help. He remembers his recently deceased father speaking glowingly about the great Sheikh, Zaabalawi. He saved his father and now he strikes out to find him, so he too can be saved. But where to look?

“He was once upon a time. A real man of mystery: he’d visit you so often that people would imagine he was your nearest and dearest, then would disappear as though he’d never existed. Yet saints are not to be blamed.”

He visits any place he has heard rumors of Zaabalawi’s presence, but he is greeted with the same answers each place he goes. They say that Zaabalawi was here, but he has left, and they don’t know where. Zaabalawi has touched the lives of so many people, talked of in mostly hallowed terms, and even when he was thought a charlatan, they still remembered him. But he still cannot find him

Zaabalawi is a metaphor for faith. He is elusive and hard to describe. Those that have experienced it talk glowingly about it, but they cannot show you where to find it, it must be found by each person in their own way. In searching, one might find many other valuable things.


Monday, February 15, 2016

#290 How Monkey Got Married, Bought a House, and Found Happiness in Orlando- Chuck Palahniuk


#290 How Monkey Got Married, Bought a House, and Found Happiness in Orlando- Chuck Palahniuk

“Blessed was Monkey with charm, and when she smiled at Stag or Panther or Eagle, they smiled in return and sought to buy whatever product Monkey was shilling. She sold cigarettes to Badger who did not smoke. And Monkey sold beef to Ram, who did not eat meat. So clever was Monkey that she sold hand lotion to Snake, who had no hands!”

I read that and figured this would be a cute children’s story or something. Then I realized this was Chuck Palahniuk and braced myself for the coming dark, disturbing twist that would taint these poor animals in a puddle of decrepitude. But no, in the end this is just a small morality tale about faith.

“No one stood on Monkey’s side. She stood alone armed only with her faith.”


Wednesday, December 30, 2015

#244 Surrounded by Sleep- Akhil Sharma


#244 Surrounded by Sleep- Akhil Sharma

Ten-year-old Ajay is dealing with grief. His brother had a near drowning accident in a local pool and is in a coma. Ajay and his mother desperately set up a shrine and plea to God for help, any God will do.

Prayer became a hodgepodge of beliefs. They would make appeals to the cross, the star of David, the altar even had a picture of Gandhi on it that they would sprinkle only water on because he was fasting. Ajay prayed to the “S” on superman’s cape.

“Prayer, Ajay thought, should appeal with humility and open heart to some greater force. But the praying that he and his mother did felt sly and confused. By treating God as someone to bargain with, it seemed to him, they prayed as if they were casting a spell.”

At night, while he slept he would imagine conversations with God. His projection of God became his mourning, as he went through the stages of grief.  “But now Ajay was starting to understand that the world was always real, whether you were reading a book or sleeping, and that its eroded you every day. He saw the evidence of this erosion in his mother, who had grown severe and unforgiving.”

Life goes on.

Notable Passage: “People will cry with you once, and they will cry with you a second time. But if you cry a third time, people will say you are boring and always crying.”