In Vanya’s Shoes

 

Late on the afternoon of the Vigil of Pentecost as my wife has taken the kids out to run some errands so I can get some cleaning and projects done around the house, a visitor appears on the other side of the screen door. He has not knocked, as he knows I hate loud noises. His smile cuts across a face that almost matches my own, save that it has a shock of hair darker than mine ever was, and its eyes and skin have the slightest tinge of yellow, suggesting a hint of jaundice. 

I feel around in my pockets and realize I left my pocket Benedictine cross in the other room when I changed pants. 

As I open the door, the sun’s fading yellow rays bounce off the window pane and obscure his figure. 

“Where did you come from?” I ask. 

“From going back and forth on the earth, and from walking up and down on it.” 

“And why now?”

“You know I have always been the only one to appear with an understanding smile, much more understanding than Gatsby’s, when you’re tired and feeling guilty over your lack of productivity.” 

“Well?”

“I’ve come to call you to your own place.”

“My own place?”

“Yes, I can surely see you preparing to leave this house for something better. Why not leave someone else’s broken down dwelling and make your own spiritual home as well.

I offer you what you really want. Freedom and time. Isn’t that what you said you wanted the first time you did Exodus 90? And knowledge, recognition, and visible impact on society. Well, here they are. Come and take them. 

Now there’s no need to make a clean break of it and upset your family and friends. You can keep the outward aesthetic trappings. Like Sam Harris says, the music isn’t bad. In your own place, you can reenact all the traditional solemnities you want. It’s only a minor annoyance for me, I’ve accompanied many monks through years of chants day in and day out. And you’ll get along with the Sadducees just fine. You can even create the community dynamic and social reform that you’re after, I don’t mind. With me, you can do just about anything, as the carpenter could have if he had stayed with me on the mountain.” 

“I see you’re feeling generous today.”

“Well, and why not? After all, it is I who has true compassion on the tired, the weak, the struggling. It is I who comfort them rather than demanding they become someone they are not, or push themselves beyond their capacity. I care about everyone, not only the elect. I offer a way out. And I always pursue. I am not as the false beloved in the old Canticle who vanishes when the lover opens the door.” 

“Yet the beloved vanishes for the sake of the lover, that in the pursuit the lover might grow to achieve blessedness.”

“Yes, I congratulate you for your literary style, as well as for your superhuman forgiveness of your father. Though I was pleased to see your friend react by reassuring you that the wretched man would come to me. You know of course, that whatever fasts you try, he and the rest of your family will come to me in the end.”

“You have fine taste in compliments.”

“Yes, and most appreciate that about me. And you’ve always perceived it. Let me tell you, social media runs on my compliments and encouragements around humanity’s correct opinions these days. And really, this is why I’m here. You can keep whatever vestiges you like, including your newfound dedication to project work, gift giving, and all the rest. 

But it’d be better to give those things up and focus on honing your unique talents. Put all your might into becoming a top performer, as I am. Surely you owe it to your family and humanity to do what you can do best, and to give up the rest. 

There’s no need to get started all at once, it’s only a change of mindset first, and then a gradual freeing of your mind from all these pretended obligations. And for now, it would be our little secret.”

“I was always good at keeping secrets, unfortunately.”

“Yes, and all in preparation for making the right choice. You don’t expect to achieve success by minding houses and children for all of your best years, do you? Imagine, how much better off society would be if the people worth listening to spent more time building culture and less time wiping children’s behinds and breaking up temper tantrums? As for you, stick with me and you have the whole world before you. You can truly take life and make it your own, the way your mom described you doing in that one Facebook post.”

“Though you touch close to home, I must rather cast my lot with one of my father-in-law’s patron saints, if such be my fate. Ego amavi iustitiam et odivi iniquitatem, propterea murio in exsilio.”

“All your life an exile. Well, one day surely you must decide to make your home instead of living in someone else’s. Until such an opportune time, I depart, though never far.”