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Calvary Episcopal Church
Memphis, Tennessee
THE CHRONICLE
October 12, 2003
Vol. 48, No. 35


Being Alive
Tourists seem to look the same everywhere you go. Jeans, t-shirts, Nikes, and ball
caps-–the American wardrobe for vacation. I had just come from being somewhat
isolated in a quiet place in the desert and was sitting at a Starbuck’s on Fremont
Street in Las Vegas. I felt the energy of the place in stark contrast to the silence I
had just come from. Music was playing loudly, and there under the covered
walkway, the tourists that look like all tourists were meandering like a brook
through a rocky mountainside. As I looked at the sea of clothes that looked the
same, I realized how comforting we find it to simply fit in-–to look like everyone
else. But, even more than their unimaginative garb, I was struck by their faces.
Faces that all seemed to share the same expression-–a blank, empty, almost
deadened stare. They would peer uninterestedly at the sights around them, as if
they were ‘taking them in’, yet their faces showed that they were not really seeing
anything at all. Even smiles and laughter were rare. It appeared to me that most of
them were like zombies who had lost the fervor for the experience of raw life.

In contemporary culture we seem to seek raw life vicariously. We watch television,
we go to movies, we surf the net, and we receive some excitement about ‘life’ but we seem to be losing the ability to experience that ‘life’ ourselves. I felt the desire to step out and grab people by the shoulders to ‘wake them up.’ I wanted to tell them that they are living, breathing beings and the blood of humanness flows through their veins. I wanted them to know that one of God’s greatest gifts to us is our humanity. It is this that makes it possible for us to feel fear, danger, risk, passion, love, agony--to actually let the beat and heat of life teach us what it is to be fully alive. We may feel dullness in our daily lives, but we can all begin today with a fresh canvas-–empty and waiting for the drama and intensity of life’s face to be painted on it. So take brush in hand and paint.

Renée Miller

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