NOTE: written August 29th (before the excellent lecture on the R.C. influence in México on October 29th).
One secondary benefit of knowing absolutely no Spanish is the quiet time I get during the Catholic mass I have attended here in Querétaro for these first two Sundays in the Peace Corps. Not quite like Sarah Miles – Graham Greene’s “bitch and a fake” heroine in his sublime novel The End of the Affair – something shifted in me when I spent more than an hour gazing absently at just another crucifix in just another Roman church. Most crucifixes tend to be the same, though this one seemed different.
No mystical paradox here, as poor Sarah encountered while she succumbed to disease. It turns out that the crucifixes here in México are different than the thousands I have seen elsewhere. Out-to-lunch though I am, I have to doubt that I could plod along for half a century and miss this detail along the way. Of course, it took thirty years for me to “get” the double-entendre behind (Bond character) Pussy Galore’s name; anything is possible.
If the devil hides in the details, so does Christ (at least south of the border). For the crucifix in this church in Querétaro has mutilated knees represented on the figure of the dying Christ; many others are even more graphic, with ribs showing and / or lacerated body broken forever...or so it seems. This small improvement on verisimilitude ought not to be a big detail. Yet it was for me. ¿Why?
For one, these mutilated knees were not the skin-scrapes we earned as kids graduating from tricycles to bicycles. These knees were gashed to the bone; nothing short of gory, really. As I age, I also become increasingly convinced that I have made no breakthroughs not already encountered by billions of others in millions of moments.
While the setting and circumstance of an ‘aha’ moment varies infinitely among so many different people, its essence rarely does. Perhaps that idea demotes a ‘breakthrough’ to a certain inward readiness to grasp a detail; not quite a random moment but pretty close. ¿And so what was my ‘aha’ moment?
Nothing less the realization of how unutterably low Christ was brought at the time of his execution by the Roman Empire for subversion. Yes, the knees would have been mutilated stumbling up that rocky path of Golgotha. The message here need not be religious. If one puts aside the argumentation of Christ’s existence and resurrection simply to look at the story, ¿what does it say? ¿At least to me?
It basically says that no matter how destroyed one’s life is or has become, redemption is possible. Jesus then stands out as the ultimate “comeback kid”; ¡yes, thirty-three years old is a kid these days! And this sentiment is not intended to slight Xianity; far from it. One can lose a belief he never had but still revere the larger Truth for which it stands.
What that ‘knee-capped’ figurine taught me was that I do not have to believe in the Christian doctrine to realize that, even when all human hope has dissipated, there is still Hope. That universal paradox of Hope after all hope, then, becomes my personal responsibility upon its discovery – if not for myself, then for the aid of others.
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