“Ask Square Pig how much she paid for that box,” says Square Pig Senior, chuckling under his breath and staring at an old green kist in SP’s lounge with the paint peeling off. Square Pig’s friend turned around and raised an enquiring ear.
“Five hundred rand,” Square Pig mumbled through her snout. Senior roared with laughter.
“Well I like it – it’s old!!” she stated, stamping her hoof into the ground. They all stared at the green box in Square Pig’s lounge. It WAS old – there was no doubt about that!!
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I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels comforted by old things! In a world of microwaves, overnight building developments, shopping malls and quick fixes – there is something reassuring about old things; the amount of time it took to make them and the clues they give us to a by-gone era less superficial than our own.
I went to the Irma Stern museum a while back and was literally transfixed by the figures she had painted on her dining room furniture. Not only were they hand-painted but they represented all the mystery and strangeness of Medieval times. I loved them.
I don’t think I’m alone in this fascination. “Harry Potter”, “Lord of the Rings”, victorian wall motifs, ”stressed” furniture, retro chic and a thousand Long Street antique shops (all with exorbitant prices) speak of a generation’s longing for something old and mysterious, something grounded in the tried and tested, something which instinctively we know has inherant value, something we’ve lost and desperately want back!
In spiritual terms, I see this longing too - yoga, mysticism, monasticism and meditation, in the pilgrims we make to England, India, China where we hope the “ancient” walls will tell us something we don’t already know, something which can’t be listed in “wikipedia” or “iol”!!!
So it was with some delight that I found this quote in the emerging conversations about Christianity:
…it seems as if those involved are charting a new direction for Christianity. Yet time and again familiar – sounding place names gently remind us that this discovery is at the same time a re-discovery…and my conclusion is this: the terrotory I thought I was helping to chart was actually discovered a long time ago by my ancestors. It is both frustrating and comforting that no matter how fast I run, those who have long since died have already arrived at where I am attempting to go. (Peter Rollins “How (not) to Speak of God”)
