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Reflection for September 24, 2006

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Paradise Lost?

Martin Chuzzlewit, a self-centered fellow in the Dickens novel, arrived in the New York of the 1840's equipped with some architectural knowledge and ready to use it to develop the virgin landscape of America. He had with him a young fellow named Mark Tapley who prided himself on being "jolly" no matter what his circumstances. Together they took a train to some town where they entered the office of an agent named Mr. Scadder. The office showed a large pictorial map of the thriving new town of Eden, situated farther west. The map showed banks, churches, a cathedral, a market place, factories, hotels, stores. It was a veritable city. This both excited and depressed Martin. "I'm afraid that there's nothing left for me to do," he said. Scadder replied, "Well, it ain't all built. Not quite." Martin asked whether the market place was built. Scadder looked and said, "No, that ain't built." Then Martin worried the place must have several architects to compete with. "No," said Scadder, "There ain't a single one." You would think Martin would have become suspicious but being self-centered and therefore manipulable he convinced Mark that they should buy a 50-acre lot, which Scadder arbitrarily pointed out, or rather punctured on the map with his toothpick.

And so off to Eden they went by steamboat, though the farther down river they puffed the more dismal the riverbank became. So-called towns were a mere collection of huts. Eventually Martin and Mark were the boat's only passengers. And then, you guessed it; they arrived at Eden, which was mostly a swamp with a few cabins sheltering fever victims. When Martin asked one citizen where all the people were, he tapped the ground and said: "You must look for such folk here . . . We've buried most of them." Martin of course collapses mentally and physically, though not Mark whose "jolly" nature proves itself by his inhaling the malarial air as if it were ambrosia and fixing up their cabin and laying out the salt pork and biscuits and whiskey and cheering up all the sick people of Eden's meager community.

Which brings us back to where we're situated along the riverbank of Time. For we all entered this world with a vision of Eden. That's how the Bible begins. But by the time we came of age Cain had killed Abel, Lamech was avenging himself 70 times 7 times, wars had produced one Deluge after another, Jacob had ripped off Esau, Israelites had become slaves in Egypt, David had seduced Bathsheba and Pontius Pilate had crucified Jesus Christ. And so what happened to that Eden displayed to us during that opening chapter of our lives? It's enough to make one succumb like Martin to despair. But not Mark Tapley who retained a "jolly" capacity to see Eden in every landscape; who even when disappointed saw something positive - as he says to bedridden Martin: " A touch of fever caught on these rivers but bless you, that's nothing. It's only a seasoning, and we must all be seasoned, one way or another. That's religion, that is, you know."

As believers it's our challenge to play the role of Mark Tapley, never to cease being actively, even naively hopeful, convinced that Eden is not so much a fading memory but a dream emerging out of history even as Christ emerged from his tomb. Maybe that's why Christ chose a child as a model to be observed because children are believers - even as Mark Tapley was an embodiment of that spirit that runs even through an old Sinatra ballad I heard the other night: Fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you / If you're young at heart. / For it's hard, you will find, to be narrow of mind / If you're young at heart. // You can go to extremes with impossible schemes. / You can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams. / And life gets more exciting with each passing day. / And love is either in your heart, or on its way. // . . . And if you should survive to 105, / Look at all you'll derive out of being alive! / And here is the best part, you have a head start / If you are among the very young at heart.

-- Geoff Wood