Man will not suffice

I saw “The Jeweler’s Shop” last Saturday, put on by Theophany, a Catholic theater company. I’m wishing I had the play in front of me to read again, and again, and again. A member of the cast said it’s like Scripture—anyone can read it and anyone can get something out of it, but the more you read it, the more you get. Though I had read it before, and certainly got something out of watching it, I was grateful for their comments which they shared after the final act. The second act chorus talks about a fire which ignites with oil, but eventually survives on water, a water which we protect ourselves from by wearing “high-heeled shoes” (even Karol Wojtyla wasn’t beyond laughing at women’s obsessions). The problem is, the fire (love) can and must start with oil (passion), but must ultimately be fed by water (grace), which seems counter-intuitive. How can the two co-exist? Furthermore, we “protect” ourselves from grace by trying to close the gap between men and women out of fear or shame—in Teresa’s case, wearing high heels to make herself closer in height to Andrew—instead of trusting in our complementarity. I know, pretty heavy for something like high heels. What I’m trying to figure out is if our generation is truly deceived into thinking that passion and grace are opposed. Certainly we’ve been influenced greatly by Theology of the Body, which was of course written after this time. Perhaps this was the beginnings of an “adequate anthropology.” Too, I’m amazed at how one man knew so much, could be so much, and do so much. He was philosopher, poet, actor, playwright, outdoorsman, priest. I’m grateful for the influence he has had, for I truly believe that we are the JPII generation, having been encouraged, challenged, and believed in by one of the greatest saints to ever live. Nonetheless, like Christopher and Monica in the final act, we all have our own baggage, our own experiences of love and marriage and family and commitment, our own notions of passion and grace, our own fears about being too short without high heels, about not wanting to get our feet wet, our own desperate hopes for a future of love and forgiveness. “The future depends on love.”