The Mosaic Lion

I dreampt that I was visiting a small town in Italy that was tucked in a niche in the base of a volcanic outcrop, sort of a cross between a dike and a volcanic neck. The outcrop formed a pinnacle in the center and two ridges of the same very dark brown rock swooped down to the plain from which the outcrop protruded at a wide angle, curving ever-so-slightly as if to contain something as they dissapeared beneath the yellow, dusty plain.

And there, between the arms of the outcrop, lay the plaza of the town. And it was not just any plaza, but a plaza made up of many colored bricks that made up a huge, rather realistic mosaic of a proud lion standing in left profile, tail twitched in front of its left haunch, head turned slightly towards the viewer.

The niche in the outcrop, and its little town faced the plaza, faced the lion that was turning to look at it.

And I sat at an outdoor table in that town with my true love, sampling tiny, bitter pickles that were the specialty of the town, as our waiter, who wore clothes with faint, small vertical bands of maroon and brown of varying width and a crumpled looking white apron, explained that eating a lot of these pickles would make us sick, and could be fatal. I told him not to worry, we would be careful, and I awoke.

Is the message of the dream temperance and moderation? Is it more about accepting your situation and nature? Is it about enjoying where you are? Is the lion a pagan symbol alone, or is it symbolic of the watchfulness of Christ, whom I associate with the lion? Why does the lion face the little town, and the pinnacle, and not the plain?

Perhaps this last question I can answer, in a practical way: the lion is posed for someone on the pinnacle, or in a building within its niche to view it.

Perhaps the lion is not concerned with those who might assault the town, but with the welfare of its residents.

Perhaps the theme of the dream is care: caring for yourself and others, being careful, and taking care to appreciate where you are, and who you are with.

Or maybe there is a message in the way the earth in the form of the outcrop, the lion; a symbol of faith, and the town all form an integrated whole, working together to form a place which people can call home.

A Vale of Sorrows?

The Christian Faith, The Bible, CS Lewis, and many other respected authorities seem to tell us that what we do today is just a prelude to the world to come.

CS Lewis speaks of this life as being like school, a period when we are learning and training. The Apostle Paul tells us how we cannot begin to know the wonders that are in store for the faithful, and John's Revelation speaks of the new City of God which the faithful will reside in.

I also believe that this is not the end, and that we are called to an eternal life of participation in the ongoing creation of God.

But the idea of this world as a prelude, an entryway, of this phase in history as just the portal to something larger concerns me, because I worry that it encourages us not to take it seriously. I worry that people will say 'this is too much for this age, and I will leave this for the next generation', or even the next world, to solve.

We are where we are, and if we cannot fix the world, perhaps we can find ways to make our corners of it places of blessing. I believe this is one of the calls of Christianity, to make our little corners places of blessing.

If we must live on the stoop of eternity, on the doorstep of the new age, in the entryway of the House of God, let us make our little spot as welcoming, as blessed as we can. This may be the morning of the new day, but there is much to do in the morning, even before the sun is up-no matter how dark it is.

This entryway is where we live and work today. Let's not treat it and each other with disrespect because we hope to be invited inside, to a better place with more exclusive company tomorrow.

So let's get to work. There is a lot to do here in the entryway. There are new arrivals, (many of them wounded, lost and hungry) to make welcome, food to serve, and water to bring to the thirsty. Roll up your sleeves, and put an apron on - the morning has broken, and God's house is open for the business of Life.