Almost as intense as my youthful aversion to hard work, built upon the false premise that labor existed only for the sake of amassing fortune and fame, was a similar distaste for the task of attending church, built upon the false premise that public worship existed only so that the blowhards could fulfill their quota of prancing about for the week.
Once again, taking a moment with Hogarth helped me to reconsider my assumptions. Both working and praying become a joy when they are driven by understanding and by love—the problems arise when we work for greed and pray out of vanity.
For all of my protests, I always knew that piety was a virtue, because I always knew how what is lesser can only be defined through what is greater. My selfishness, however, would keep me from putting this into practice, and there was no easier excuse for being spiritually lazy than pointing my finger at other people. Look at those hypocrites, pretending to be holy while they satisfy their own appetites!
This does not, of course, disprove the presence of the Divine, and it only shows why we need those graces all the more. If another man is making a mockery of his duties, am I suddenly allowed to abandon my own? Let him have his worldly amusements, and I can still keep my peace of mind—don't throw the baby out with the bathwater.
Every Sunday, I was furious with the decadent priests at the altar and the sanctimonious scoundrels in the pews, which did everything to damage me and nothing to improve them. God asks for charity from me, and yet that turns out to be the one thing I refuse to give.
As much as I appreciate a heady theological argument, this simple image does more for me than any string of syllogisms. It is one thing to merely talk about the qualities of a good man, and quite another to show me the example of a good man.
Francis, accompanied by his master's daughter, is not interested in putting on some holy show, or catching up on the latest gossip. He is just happy to sing from his hymnal, neither putting on airs nor rolling his eyes in boredom. That he is doing so in the company of a nice young lady is not lost on me, a fellow who wasted too many years chasing after girls who could talk the talk, but would never walk the walk.
In the top right we have the vain woman and the sleeping man, so commonly found in any place of worship. Francis is wise enough not pay them any heed, since the modest task for the day is right before him.
We can hardly overlook the figure of the pew opener, the old lady who would guide worshippers to their seats. While it is likely that very few have noticed her, it is clear that Hogarth has noticed her, and I would dare to propose that God has also noticed her humble service.
Prayer is surely not so taxing when it is actually about devotion, and not reduced to a tedious social performance.
Psalms 119:97
O! How I love thy Law it is my
meditation all the day.
meditation all the day.
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