The Metamorphoses

 The Metamorphoses 

Nils Sundstøm
(brush and sponge by Bel Monk)

Nils Sundstøm stopped by yesterday to invite me to his Wednesday book group. “We’re discussing Ovid, the Metamorphoses - I have no doubt you’ve read it.” I said I had - I didn’t admit “more than once” - but it had been a while, I did admit that. “I’d like to go still,” I lied, “only I can’t tomorrow,” I lied again.

     “It’s a different way of thinking about God - as a hell of a lot more than the three for one thing,” he said. I nodded.

     “Mary Lefkowitz - have you heard of her?” I said I thought so. “The anti-Afro-centrism woman,” Nils said. “Maybe that’s what you heard about.” I didn’t think that was it, I said. “She wrote a book about Greek religion,” Nils said. “Yes,” I said. I remembered (too vaguely) reading it when it came out, ten or fifteen years ago.* The dust jacket had a blue background with silver lettering.

     “She calls the Greek gods ‘a religion for adults,’” Nils said. I continued to nod. “The Greeks aren’t trying to please God for the sake of a reward; they are living with the gods because they can’t do anything else.” Then:

“I heard Albert is going to lectio divina.”

Publius Ovidius Naso
(pen and ink by m ball)

     “Yes,” I said. “I’m taking him.”

     “What’s the purpose of that?” Nils said though as if he already knew.

     “I don’t know,” I said. I didn't know, and I didn't remember well enough to explain what Uncle Albert had told me.

     “Well, you can bet it has one,” Nils said. “It’s not for the fun of it, there’s something to be accomplished.”

     “Maybe it makes better followers of Jesus.” What made me say that, what made me say anything, I had no idea - and wanted to take it back right away.

     There wasn’t time. Nils jumped: “Jesus, I assure you, has nothing to do with it.”

     “Then, to bring us - or whoever does it - closer to God,” I said. And why did I keep responding?

     “That may be right.” Nils paused. “But bringing us closer to the God within us.” He paused again, took a breath: “Like that damn centering prayer,” he said.

     Now, I said nothing.

“We get closer to him, he gets closer to us, we get saved,” Nils said. “That’s our reward. We build a maze under God’s direction, we learn to run through it, we come out at the other end, we get a pellet of salvation.”

     I nodded though not to agree. I wasn’t sure I did agree. I wasn’t sure where the hell the conversation was going; I wasn't even sure where it was.

     “If I had the balls,” Nils said, “I’d start a group, deflectio lippa - half-blind beside-the-point.

     “This is where Ovid gets it right. Everything is deflection. There is no path, or it is always diverging in the wood.

     “The way is not narrow, the gate is not strait. We’re wandering through a vast meadow, we’re sailing on seas out of sight of the shore, we’re flying through open skies. And at the end is not judgment, because the purpose is not redemption. At the end is another beginning. And it is strictly ad hoc. The gods are making it up as they go along, and, why not? - they aren’t accountable to anyone but themselves. They don’t need a plan to get us from here to there. Where is there? They are more mindful - the gods are - than any of us have ever been of Jesus’ advice not to worry about tomorrow, rather let today’s own troubles be sufficient for today - and today’s own joys, and today’s own excitements and boredoms: they’re enough.

     “For them, it is better to spend a late Tuesday afternoon - that’s when Albert’s group meets, right? . . . .”

     I nodded.

     “For them, the gods, it’s better to spend a late Tuesday afternoon in perpotatio vini than lectiodi vina. That’s the great advantage in being a God, isn’t it? There is no worship to pay (no Ass to kiss); there is only life to live. There is no narrow way to follow, there is only the whole wide world to skip around in.”

I nodded. “Sorry I can’t do it,” I said - about the book group meeting

03.28.18