THE
DEVIL AND MEL BROOKS
The span of time a journey makes
can last days or just a few hours.
My journey, one day, precisely,
an afternoon and an evening,
one I had to make alone, without
you. Most crippling of all human
frailty is that of fear, paralyzing
the human heart, striking blindly
without reason or understanding,
arising within the human spirit
a cruel, at times, heartless spirit.
This one day’s journey is
is marked in the present, but
began in the second grade,
well-meaning her intent,
stories for young minds,
woven by the old nun to
scare us into heaven.
Hell fire, demons galore,
demonic possession, the
tools in her spiritual chest,
to save our young souls
from eternal damnation;
tales placed so deep in our
subconscious, their roots
never eradicated by time,
lay dormant waiting.
Long steeped in fear and
ignorance, our nation
no different than I, though
possessed by another
spiritual force as evil.
Racist roots sunk so deep,
that no amount of Civil Rights
passed by law could attack
the evil at the heart of
our nation. Evil, as ancient
as the dark heart of Evil
personified, is hard to extract,
lay camouflaged, awaiting
the moment to strike.
Like Dante’s poetic journey
of redemption, passing through
the Inferno, Purgatorio, and
Paradiso, a descent, I, too,
must make, no Virgil as my
guide, alas. Passing through
the double doors of the
theater, no sign posted
saying, “Abandon Hope,
Ye Who Enter Here,” I take
my seat in the darkened
auditorium, this not the
occasion for Red Hots and
Milk Duds. The dark grows
even darker as “Tubular
Bells” signals the beginning
of the story, a young girl’s
play with a Ouija Board
opening the door of her
soul to an Evil sworn
to tear apart her spirit
and the spirits of all
whom she loves.
One priest battered in body,
the other, battered in faith,
encounter the epitome
of Evil malignant, no simple
haunting, no mere ghost.
The absence of light,
ironically glaring shows
how Evil inhabits dark
places and dark hearts,
the sound more horrific
than the visual, relentless
the hope of a mother
much stronger than those
empowered to exorcise,
self-sacrifice out of love,
the final tool used to uproot
and eradicate the Evil
from the girl. Climbing out
of the theater in the
manner of Dante, I reach
the lobby, the blessed
brightness of the sunshine
outside takes the edge off
the darkness of the film.
I pause to reflect prayerfully
at the concession stand,
what nourishment to take.
Guided to the Coca-cola
and buttered popcorn,
I walk through another set
of double doors only to be
met by Mel Brooks, my
guide and mentor for the
next journey. Fooled into
thinking that Purgatorio, be
far easier than the Inferno
through which I just had
walked, I was confronted
with an ancient Sin, one
that had broken my nation
asunder just a hundred years
earlier, a necropolis of Sin
that continued to swallow
alive the souls of so many
people. The Evil of racism,
a pandemic striking the
souls of white American
society crosses the screen
in images both meant to
amuse and to accuse.
The humor highlighting
all the more the façade
of respectability, the
racist’s shell game
playing the suckers,
drawing them into their
own sickness. Hucksters,
like the demons of Dante,
use the beans they eat
around the campfire to
trumpet their asses emitting
a substance just as putrid
and foul. Only relentless
goodwill and hope frees
the hearts of those manacled
to the pillar of racism. I,
seeing this comedic vision
examine whether my hands,
my feet are as manacled
as those portrayed in the film.
While bound by chains
not quite as thick and strong,
the chains are there, and
the manacles intact.
I rise and pass through the
doors back into the lobby,
the humor of the film
taking the edge off the
darkness that lay outside .
Confronting one’s fears
does not always defeat
but makes one aware of that
which is hidden inside.
True victory over Evil’s darkness
comes only with allying in trust
with the primal source of love,
the love that overwhelms
all darkness with light.
It will take more than
this Dantesque day’s cinematic
journey to defeat the fear
that is present within my life.
You, will play a big part
in the future triumph
of my spirit over darkness,
our God revealing in you,
so clearly that my eyes
may see, the source of love,
the center of God, who
conquers all darkness.
©2015. The Book Of Ruth, Deacon
Bob Wagner OFS. All rights reserved.
No comments:
Post a Comment