Reflections for a weary soul
In days of violence, uncertainty and hatred, we must speak the truth about war, discrimination, violence, and love. But this work can leave our souls weary.
Beauty and silence nourish my weary soul in days of violence, uncertainty and hatred. In the life of those working for social justice, it is, of course, the task to see and speak and live out of what is true. The truth about war, the truth about discrimination, the truth about violence, and also the truth about love.
But this work is not easy for our souls if we are living in it.
I find myself seeking out spaces of simplicity, quiet and truthful reflection on injustice and tragic pain as a way to find rest for my soul. In Houston, Texas, this past summer (before the floodwaters and torrential rain), I found such a space sitting before Broken Obelisk, a large, public work dedicated to Martin Luther King Jr. The piece was erected in 1970 and placed just two years after King’s assassination.
The rust-colored sculpture stands perched in a reflecting pool. The large pyramid shape at the base of the sculpture gives way to the obelisk shape. The obelisk is perched upside down on the pyramid, its broken jagged edges protruding at the top.
The symbol of the obelisk is traditionally a sign of a great kingdom. In ancient Egypt, they were placed in pairs to protect the monuments and tombs of a city. To portray an obelisk that is fallen and broken expresses a fallen and broken society.
As I make my days in Washington D.C., there is another obelisk that dominates my view. It is, of course, the Washington Monument, the little-more-than 555 feet tall piece seen from almost anywhere in the region. It stands intact, proud, clear and unwavering.
This past summer, however, I sat in front of the Broken Obelisk with other passersby, mesmerized by the reflection in the water beneath. Peering at the pool, one can see the obelisk shape, only now, it was right side up, a mirror image of the object in the world. The upside down obelisk expresses the reality of loss and pain over the ways that communities and societies are not living up to the highest ideals. The hope in the dream of restored obelisk is reflected in the water. It created a vision of a future not yet fully-realized but for which we deeply yearn.
That sculpture’s offering of both what exists in the world and what is hoped for is, perhaps, why I keep leaning toward the memory of the broken obelisk and its reflecting pool. It recalls a space where I was both able to witness to the truth and find rest for my soul. The symbols of our lives give meaning back to us even as they also hold mystery and spacious simplicity.
This is the work of a weary soul facing injustice these days: to live in truth while also finding healing and restoration.
