“Sculpture is the art of the hole and the lump.” Auguste Rodin
Last night I found myself at a funeral, where a thick carpet of grass lay on the platform under the casket. Tempted to take off my shoes and enjoy the grass between my toes, I actually felt the casket inviting me to visit.
When life is too busy, I walk past the outlines that form the beauty of the day. I fail to notice the cracks and crevices filled with their carefully selected grout. I’ve grown accustomed to the beggar needing a piece of bread and the downcast face of a colleague. The things in life that invite me to experience real joy go unnoticed.
Jesus shows me a life of real contrast. Even when pressed in by the crowds, he noticed the touch of a woman with great faith. He stopped to converse with a small man sitting in a tree. He heard the cry of a blind man begging for sight. Of all people who could have been too busy to notice, his example calls me to a different kind of lifestyle.
Today, I hope to consider the nooks, holes, cracks, and crannies. I hope to notice those things put in front of me rather than passing them by. I hope I’m reminded that life is brief and that a layer of grass is inviting me home.
Like the grass under the casket, it’s the small details in life that create the big picture. What’s in the cracks and crevices outlines the events that invite me to involve myself more deeply in life. As Rodin shapes the clay with its holes and lumps, my life should be the same–a work of art shaped by the master artist.