Sisyphus, revisited.

 

Salvation is a mountain, steep and tall, with a boulder at its base standing before you. The boulder is so large, you could push and push, but not even cause it to wobble. What’s more, the ground on the way up the mountain is a mixture of wet clay, loose gravel, and ice. Behind you: Darkness, where voices constantly chatter and laugh, and moan, curse, and scream.

When you die, if your boulder is over the top of the mountain, it rolls softly down the other side to Paradise.

In Heaven, we all have the Big Rig.

Unfortunately, if your boulder is not over the top when you breathe your last, it rolls back over you, crushing your lifeless body and dragging you down past the base of the mountain and into the Darkness.

You may think the task is impossible to do by yourself.

You would be right.

But you still push and push. Your feet slip on the clay beneath you, causing you to fall and become covered in the thick, white mud. You push until you reach the point of exhaustion and collapse from the fatigue. As you close your eyes to try to get some rest, fighting off despair, you’re suddenly splashed with water that soaks you. You instantly feel refreshed, as though the water has permeated your skin, through your muscles and into the very core of your bone, giving you life. You spring from the ground and look down at yourself. The clay has been washed from your body and you suddenly feel much, much lighter. You hear a flapping of wings and feel a warm breeze and you look up to see a beautiful dove flying in place above you. You think you see it smile.

Just as you are about to speak to the dove, you hear footsteps approaching. You turn toward the noise and see a kind looking Man standing near you with a bucket swinging in His hand; a hand with a sizable hole in it. The Man starts laughing, but not like the laughing you’ve heard coming from the Darkness for so long. While the laughter from the Darkness causes you to bristle, His laughter gives you peace.

He asks: “Can I give you a hand?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve pushed this thing so hard, I think I’ll wear grooves in the side before I get it anywhere—not to mention the mountain it has to be pushed up,” you reply.

“Don’t worry! I’ve climbed more difficult mountains than this,” He says with a knowing grin. “Come on, hop on my shoulders and I’ll help you.”

As you climb on His shoulders, you realize He’s much stronger than He looks. In fact, it feels as though you’re sitting on a living rock. He moves to the boulder, claps His hands, puts them on the rock, and digs His feet into the clay. You lean forward and put your hands on the rock, too. The Man’s countenance grows serious as He speaks, “You cannot move this rock alone, but I will only help you if you accept my aid—I will never force you to accept it. The choice remains yours throughout the entire journey. Now: Push.”

You start to push the boulder along with the Man and it starts to glide easily up the hill. His feet are solid on the unsteady ground and His strength is unfathomable. You realize you’re helping the rock along, too, but you also realize that the only reason you can do anything is because your base is strong. That is, any work you’re able to do only has an effect because He’s there as your anchor and power station.

You push as much as you can and He pushes as much as He can.

The more you push the rock, the easier it becomes. You realize the soreness and bleeding hands that came when you first started pushing have gone away, and the work has become more rewarding. All the while, you’ve gotten to know Him. You’ve learned where He grew up, what He did for a living, who His friends are, and about His mother. He laughs as He recounts stories of her, “She’s the one who got me to start my ministry early.”

When you’re hungry, He gives you bread. When you’re thirsty He gives you wine to drink. They are the best food and drink you’ve ever eaten; after every meal you’re completely recharged and ready to continue the journey.

Unfortunately, there is also a dark side to this story: You are still a human.

Occasionally, you’ll become so sure of yourself and your own provision that you decide you can push the rock by yourself. You forget about the help He has given you and the difficulty you had before He came along. You begin to feel silly that you’re sitting on His shoulders and you look back and see people behind you who are laughing at the ridiculousness of the scene: a grown man on the shoulders of another man. You want the laughing to stop. Plus, sometimes you just want to be alone.

“I think I can take it from here, man,” you say to Him as you hop off His shoulders. True to His word, He does not force you to accept His help; He just steps to the side and waits.

You dig your feet into the ground and start to push. Again, you slip, and again, you get nowhere. You get up over and over and you push again and again but all that happens is you slip and cut yourself on the gravel, the ice burns your skin, or the clay covers your body, sometimes even covering you so completely, you cannot even stand up from the added weight. All the while, He sits near you, waiting for you to ask for His help.

Sometimes, you call Him quickly and He comes over with a cloth and wipes the mud and blood from your body and provides salve for your damaged skin. Other times, you’re so consumed with yourself and your troubles or desires you forget Him almost completely. In those times, just before you forget Him completely, you feel the water that was splashed on you, still damp on your clothes, and it brings you to your senses.

Despite the hundreds of times you repeat this grim spectacle, He’s always waiting for you to call Him. He always has plenty of cloth.

Toward the end of your journey, your legs start to give and your weakness begins to show. Your frail body has been worn down from the journey. He keeps cheering you on and encouraging you. At one point, near the top of the mountain, He gives you some oil to put on your weary arms. It gives you a burst of energy as you push along with Him.

Finally, with one great heave and a weak exhale, you give the boulder one final push. He pushes too. You smile and close your eyes.

The boulder rolls over the top of the mountain.