The Gospel According to Sisyphus: Chapter Six
This is the sixth installment in a seven-part thought experiment, in which the myth of Sisyphus collides with the gospel of Jesus. Chapter one, along with an explanation of the project, is here. Chapter two is here. Chapter three is here. Chapter four is here. Chapter five is here. If Sisyphus is now your homeboy, read my "Triumph of Sisyphus" here.
The rock came to a rest at the bottom of the hill. We all stared at it. Then slowly, gradually, we all left.
A few of us wandered around. I helped a few folks push their boulders a bit, but I don’t know how helpful I was. My heart wasn’t in it. All those promises, dashed by the rock. I felt all the pain still lingering in my soul. I ached everywhere.
And then it happened. We were caught off guard by it. He was just . . . there. Right there next to us. We could see the marks of his injuries, but he didn’t seem fazed by them.
“This world gives you rocks,” he said. “I give you peace.”
I felt it. We all did. Whatever happened when he whispered or touched or acknowledged the hurting, happened to us. Our souls leapt back to life. Our backs straightened. Our resolve quickened.
“Where should we go next?” I asked. I hoped he didn’t remember my betrayal, but he did. “Let’s talk,” he said.
We stepped out of earshot of the others. “You know I love you, right?” he asked. I did.
“Do you love me?” I did. It hurt to think that he didn’t know it.
I of course told him, mustering all the confidence I could. But he just looked at me. Again and again, he repeated the question. “Do you love me?” Again and again, I told him I did.
I did the math. One question for each betrayal. He smiled. I think he figured out that I’d figured it out.
Tune in for chapter seven, the exciting conclusion to our collision of myths.