Solid . . . as a Rock

A winter's day

In a deep and dark December.

I am alone

Gazing from my window

To the streets below

On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow

I am a rock.

I am an island.

I am enclosed

In a fortress steep and mighty

That none may penetrate.

I have no need of friendship.

Friendship causes pain.

Its laughter and its longing I disdain.

I am a rock.

I am an island.

Don't talk of love.

Well--I've heard the word before.

It's sleeping in my memory.

I won't disturb the slumber

Of feelings that have died.

If I'd never loved

I never would have cried.

I am a rock.

I am an island.

I have my books

And my poetry to protect me.

I am shielded in my armor--

Hiding in my room,

Safe within my womb.

I touch no one.

No one touches me.

I am a rock.

I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain.

And an island never cries.

~ Simon & Garfunkle

            So--what is it for you?  Boyfriend, girlfriend, parents, friends, teachers, students, school, home, job, religion?

            Love--caring about someone or something--is a risk.  Love is a razor that cuts, a river that drowns.  Love hurts.  Care about people--thereby giving them the power to hurt you--and they will surely use it.  A child, for instance, naively loves and trusts his parents, only to be devastated when they divorce each other.  If the child had never loved, he never would have cried.  A teenager dates someone three or four times, and just when the feelings are beginning to develop, the drop slip comes--over the phone, through a friend, or in a note . . .         "But a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries."  A teacher gives his/her whole life to educating young people--spends hours planning, studying, slaving--only to be criticized, ignored, treated disrespectfully . . ."If I'd never loved, I never would have cried . . . I am a rock, I am an island."

            A frequent reaction to hurt, to being burned by caring for someone, is, of course, to force oneself to become hard emotionally--to build walls around our feelings, to shove the emotions to the back of the closet until they're needed at some later time.  This defense mechanism is used as a means of mental survival by children of divorced parents, dumped teenagers, frustrated adults, people who are dying; by kids on the street, men and women in prison, and the elderly forgotten in rest homes.  "I touch no one and no one touches me . . . I am a rock . . ."  Yet--ironically--or perhaps not so ironically--the very term "rock" that symbolizes invulnerability to man has been applied time and again to Christ, who throughout eternity has been anything but invulnerable:

            "On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand."

            "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee."

            "The wise man built his house upon the Rock."

            Of course, the difference should be--is--obvious.  As human beings, we can throw ourselves on the rock of isolation.  We can harden ourselves to emotions, to people.  And it'll feel safe--for awhile.  But in time, that rock will become hard and cold and lonely.  And we'll long for companionship--even if it means risking hurt.  Again.

            Yes--love can be a razor that cuts, or a river that bleeds.  Love can cause pain.  In God's case, it definitely has.  Ellen White tells us in The Desire of Ages that "The plan for our redemption was not an afterthought, a plan formulated after the fall of Adam. . . . From the beginning, God and Christ knew of the apostasy of Satan, and of the fall of man . . . God . . . foresaw [the existence of sin] and made provision to meet the terrible emergency.  So great was His love for the world, that He . . . [gave] "His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.""

            God did not wall up His emotions after getting burned.  He did not become a rock or an island.  Instead, He made us anyway, and provided us with the surest way to happiness and love possible.  Solid.  As a rock.