Contrails, oil on panel, 12 x 16, private collection Copyright Peter Bougie 2012 |
The last of the
leaves are falling. Yellows and oranges recently splashed the hillsides; now they
have smoldered into deeper reds, the embers of last decline, and many-fisted
winter advances, promising blows. Tall grasses turn wan and fade. Their seeds
fall. Lord, You cover them over and
number every resting place in the decomposing soil, the spirit abiding and
awaiting water, light and osmotic warmth, when after months have passed, Advent
and waiting, the Earth turns toward the sun again.
O Lord, summer
is ended, and You keep it hidden, but You will raise it up again when its time
comes. Insects in their billions have withdrawn into burrows and
hives, cocoons and piles of leaf litter, in places unknown to us. They crawl
under the bark of a billion trees, into every crevice and knot, into the joints
between the boards on the sides of a hundred million houses times twenty,
between the sashes and the glass where putty has dried and crumbled, into warm
interiors; You know them all, every single place there is. You traverse every pitched
and fallen bit of debris, every crevice unseen, every gallery of space under
the arc of a fallen, withered leaf. You can distinguish, in the mold and litter
of the soil, where worms burrow deep to avoid the frost, what is the dry
fragment of a disintegrated flower and what is the particle of a leaf stem
broken multiple times under plodding feet, and whose feet they were, and where
they were going, and what good or no-good they were up to.
You sent the
birds on their way, they are gone. Some will return, some never will. You know
which will mate and nest, which nests will be robbed by crows or knocked down
in target practice by boys, eggs shattered, hatchlings stranded on the ground,
sport for cats. You know which will be food for hawks, which brought up short
by exploding shot, which diving swallows will be smashed against windshields
and which will pirouette aside just in time, pursuing the food You send them; you
know which songbirds will end stuck with skewed feathers in the plastic grill going
before some person rushing in pursuit of vanity, inches from a near-boiling
radiator. You alone grieve completely and with full knowledge all of nature
groaning under the consequences of the fall; our human will, our puny
self-assertion, our highways and proud bridges, broken arches, roofless abbeys,
bombed out cities and buried ruins. You know my seeking after the love and
approval of other fallen creatures, my seeking to appear fit and capable before
them, my secret approval of that falsity, my pride in despising the pride of
others, my vanity in opposing their vanity. (For man it is impossible, but for
You all things are possible.) You offer Yourself to us, but we prefer
ourselves, the favor and consideration and glances of others. When such is
withheld by us from each other – for often the heart of the lover is most
beloved to itself – you remain faithful, for you cannot be otherwise. You are
above and below, north and south, left and right; I squeeze my eyes shut, You
are behind my eyelids, Your thumbprint is glowing.
Blaze, oil on panel, 11 x 14, private collection Copyright Peter Bougie 2007 |
I am at Your feet;
I do not dare to raise my eyes. I hang between heaven and earth, on the cross
of all the nothing which I dread, of every false aspiration and hope;
everything I desired other than You blown away like fat cruising clouds on a
summer afternoon, or the dissipating contrails of swift jets speeding high
above the earth to…somewhere else, where I hope I will somehow no longer be
what I am. You are complete and have already given me everything I could possibly
offer back to You, none of which You need, in any case. You offer me yourself
and I wail, “Not now (I am no saint)! Leave me Lord; you are I AM, but I am sinful.” I would rather have things go my way. I
would rather possess vainly for a little while that home, that brief fortunate
time, those loved ones, that embrace that was the sun of desire around which my
life revolved but which is now extinguished. You know where that went too; You
are the God of the living and not of the dead, and You are present to all, be they
present to You, or not.
You love me, whether I love you, or not. I am
at Your feet; I do not dare to raise my eyes. “Jesus, son of David, have pity
on me!”
You reply, “What do you want me to do for you?”
“Lord” I say, “I
want to see.”
You answer, “Do
you want to see? Can you bear to see what I see? The millions and billions
surging and groping; murder and fornication hand in hand, - every single incident
of it, hurried, hidden and lied about. Children prostituted, every one of them and every moment of their lives. Lies propagated as if there will be no accounting for it. Whited sepulchers and
the tombs of the prophets. ‘Where is God’ you say, as you stack abominations, ‘why
doesn’t He stop me?’ Abandoned children, abandoned women, abandoned men. Ruined,
raped and brutalized – whole families, communities, nations. You see just one
or two by the roadside begging, and you avert your eyes because the sight makes
you squirm. You continue along your way, following after your thief, while the
Son of Man walks the road to Jerusalem. Can you bear to see what I see? Can
you bear to love as I love?”
Lord, the slave
of all, You attend me; You lead me, Your cross goes before me; I am ashamed. You
teach me by thorough ways. Woman, behold your son; son, behold your mother. You
discipline me and You bind my wounds. You leave silver for me with the
innkeeper, and pledge to return and make good any debt. You give me viaticum.
“Peter, son of Jerome, do you love Me?” You ask. “Get up and eat, or the
journey will be too much for you.”
Repose, 12 x 16, oil on panel, private collection Copyright Peter Bougie 2011 |
Some of the scripture passages referenced:
Psalm 139; Romans 8:22; Matthew 10:29; Matthew 19:26; Luke
20:28; 2 Timothy 2:13; Mark 12:27; Mark
10:47; Matthew 20:22; Luke 22:34; Psalm 42; Psalm 50:18; John 15:13; Hebrews
12:11; Luke 5:8; Matthew 20:18; Psalm
136:25; Luke 10:25-37; John 21:15; 1 Kings 19:7; Matthew 15:14; Matthew 23: 27.