Within human nature lies the crafty creature of Ignorance. He has stolen truth from many a man with his subtle ways. But the beast claims not only truth as victim; but beauty as well, for truth is beauty. On occasion, this scaly-eyed monster will wake and snatch the ability to appreciate beauty from the eyes and minds of unsuspecting man. The ferocious hunter has taken the lives of many a sensitive soul who at one time pondered and cherished the commonplace, but have since fallen to the ranks of callousness.
The heart, however, must not leap with joy, considering itself blameless; for the beast does not stir unprovoked. It is the constant prodding and poking of habit and banal predictability that causes Ignorance to stir. How small an accomplishment is a sterile lifestyle! Only through spontaneity and consistent marvel in the ill-termed “ordinary” can the beast be slain.
The man whose eyes have been blinded to the beauty in his surroundings can never be joyful. He has become ignorant of delight in the mundane and finds himself without satisfaction in any circumstance. Beauty has no qualifications.
The victims of this beast are piteous creatures indeed. The sweet fragrance of a newborn lily escapes their senses. The heavenly canvas delicately brushed cadmium and yellow-gold, tufted with milky white wisps is lost somewhere between their eyes and their hearts. The whisper of a crickets song becomes mere annoyance and the glistening blade of grass is mown down in the name of habit.
This man, the man who no longer sees true beauty, has removed himself from God’s divine symphony. He moves from performer to observer. Joining in at his own tempo, his own key signature, his own melody, the blind man hears only discord. His own vain attempts at beauty are all that can be heard; and because he has deafened himself to the harmony surrounding him, the beauty and majesty of a world in perfect orchestration play on for others only, and he is left to hum his sad, lonely tune.
Complacency, on the other hand, is not as blunt nor rugged a foe as Ignorance. He has a tongue of silk and entreats his victims with subtle and palatable attacks. Ignorance depends on Complacency, for without a numbing agent, Ignorance is but fleeting. Complacency steps in, rears its beautiful head and slyly presents himself as reason; he uses craftiness and pride to gain a permanent home in the heart of man. His venom is sweet as he suggests that all is well in the mind of a man apart from beauty and truth. He poses as beauty, defending his co-conspirator’s actions as “bliss”. A life consumed by Complacency is crippled so that the road to the grave runs steep, plain, and sure.
So we stand today face to face with these dark ones. Daily must the decision be made to wage war against these foes. Will Ignorance and Complacency rule our lives, or will we fight to rejoice in the simple, choosing to recognized it as profound? Will we make the common uncommon? Bind Ignorance and Complacency; bind them tight and vow to find beauty in the ordinary.
