Mary, "Did You Know?"

I walk through the Louvre the way a child walks a path. I'm looking for the odd rock, the gems no one else is really looking for. Yes, I'll do the obligatory Mona Lisa, but my sensibilities are not with the crowd's. Whatever strikes me, I photograph. I'm terribly irresponsible when it comes to looking for the name of the painting, the painter, the period.

In the back of my mind, my blogworld urges me. Take pictures of beauty, pictures of force, pictures with potential for holiday use.

This wounded Christ arrests. I snap the picture, thinking, Easter.

But no, he would not wait 'til Easter. He wants to be here, at Christmas. And his mother too, swooning to the left. She wants to say, Did you think that birth was an easy thing? Did you know that it begins with pain, wraps up struggle, ends in death? Did you know?

I did not want to know, Mary. I wanted to believe that birth was an easy thing.

This is the danger of walking the way a child walks a path. You don't necessarily find what you are looking for. Unlike the tourist who goes out seeking the Mona Lisa and finds it, you find Christ in the wrong places. You find Easter at Christmas. You find pain in birth, even as you find glory, beauty and force. You press and click and you take home... the unexpected pebble, that slaps against your leg in secret.


Wounded Christ painting, photo taken at the Louvre, by L.L. Barkat.

Merry Christmas, my friends. May you find the gems no one else is looking for in this amazing season.

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