I just finished re-reading Uncle Tom's Cabin for the third time a couple of weeks ago and saw Les Mis the musical (from the book Les Miserables) for the second time this past weekend. Both are stories of men (Uncle Tom and Jean Valjean) that over and over demonstrate mercy and compassion, while they themselves are treated with injustice and abuse. Notably, their treatment is 'lawful' by the statutes in effect in the United States and France at the time the books were written. In what seems tragic endings, both men are dying just as they are found by those who hoped to make their earthly lives longer and better, too late for anything more than tearful partings.
Though fictional characters, both portray a higher truth of those who seek another land, who have lived in pursuit of another city without regard for earthly cost. And why did they live this way? An encounter with the living Savior. And so it has been through nearly two millennia of the Church. The sufferings of the faithful were described in advance in Hebrews 11, and summarized in verse 38 by this phrase: "of whom the world was not worthy."
Inevitably, great literature prompts self-examination. I look at my own pursuits of earthly comfort. Oh, sure, I do my religious duty and strive to be a good husband and father. But still, my sacrifices for the eternal are so small. Could I, like Uncle Tom, pray earnestly for the soul of a master who was slowly killing me? Could I, like Jean Valjean, grant my parole officer life and freedom knowing that to do so was to risk a return to bondage? Rather, I consider myself ill-used if my job is not 'fulfilling' or 'interesting'. I mentally begrudge my charitable giving when I think of what it could buy me.
150 years have passed since Harriet Beecher Stowe and Victor Hugo penned these epic testimonies of the responsibility of man to mankind, and of two saintly figures who valued this truth more than life. I pray to God that should I ever have the cause to truly suffer for Christ, that I will not falter, that I will indeed love my enemies. In the meantime, I pray for grace to raise my eyes from my mostly petty concerns and regain a vision for the image of God in each person I encounter. From the finale of Les Mis, this powerful, unforgettable phrase: To love another person is to see the face of God. May I see the face of God today.
