“Man overboard! Who cares? … The man disappears,then reappears, he sinks and rises again to the surface … He is in the monstrous deep. There is nothing beneath his feet but the yielding, fleeing element. The waves, torn and scattered by the wind, close around him hideously; the rolling abyss bears him away; tatters of water are flying around his head; a populace of waves spit on him; vague openings half swallow him; each time he sinks he glimpses yawning precipices full of dark; frightful unknown tendrils seize him, bind his feet, and draw him down … Men are gone. Where is God? … Nothing on the horizon. Nothing in the sky. … The sea is measureless misery. The soul drifting in that sea may become a corpse. Who shall restore it to life?”
While reading this section of Les Misérables, the man became, in my eyes, a symbol of the natural man inside of every individual, and the ocean a symbol of the hopelessness of a sinful life. The waves, spitting on you, pulling you down, and making life seem unbearable. The “monstrous deep” a vast concourse of whispering temptation, asking you to just let go, to give up, to stop seeking a hand to pull you out of the water. “Unknown tendrils” grabbing at you, pulling you away from life, and drawing you away from happiness. In this heartbreaking situation, there is no one to pull this mournful soul from the water. He asks an important question: “Where is God? Where is the father who loves me?” As the book states, he can still see nothing but the sea of everlasting sadness. And it seems to him that he may die, and that his “soul, drifting in that sea, may become a corpse.” In a symbolic sense, he will experience a spiritual death. Once again, a powerful question arises. “Who shall restore it to life?”
Redemption is possible without death of the soul through the watery abyss of sinful misery. A full cleansing of sin is found through God's love (charity), not an inescapable punishment, like unto the sea of mourning. Our Father in Heaven sacrificed his Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ, in order to save us from that deep, lifeless ocean of sin. His is the hand that finally reaches out to pull us out of the water, proceeding to embrace us tightly, kiss us tenderly, and invites us, like Peter, to walk on the top of the water beside him. This method of teaching righteousness through love is what Christ exemplified while he was on the earth, and it is a method that must not be forgotten.
According to Victor Hugo (author of Les Misérables), it is possible to find redemption through Christ-like love. Many people have used the excuse that they shouldn't serve another individual simply because that individual had done nothing to serve them. These people are often not willing to fully repent and obey the law of Christ to become charitable, because no one has accepted them and lifted them up out of the water. Valjean is an example of one who was shown love and then proceeded to discharge himself of his crimes and to help others, serve them, and share that tender affection with the world around him. He would always show mercy and love towards his fellow men, even while he was constantly being chased down for a crime that he had already redeemed himself of. He – the man who was left to drown – chose to look to God, and learn from Him in order to not only continue living, but also to become capable of stretching his own hand forth into the water to catch others who were slowly sinking into the abyss of misery and wickedness. Having experienced mercy, he was enabled to extend mercy to others.
Valjean's first obvious service was to Cosette's mother, Fantine, when disguised as the mayor of Montreuil-sur-mer. He provided Fantine with a paying job, took her in and cared for her when she was in need, and promised to care for her daughter, Cosette. As a father, he then literally took Cosette's hand and led her away from her darkness of abuse and hatred, guiding her through her early life until she married Marius. Valjean also gave a gift of true love to Marius, something Marius had never been endowed with before that time. Cosette was this gift to Marius, just as fully as Marius was this gift to Cosette. That final gift was his last work of service, his last accomplishment before he was taken back to his home in heaven. When Valjean's adversary–Javert–finally discovered him, Valjean pleaded with him, “Take me. Only grant me one thing … help me carry [Marius] home ... I only ask that of you. Then you will do with me whatever you like.”
Like Jean Valjean, there are times when I feel that I am in a whirlpool of sorrow; as if it is some inescapable tomb that will suck me in forever. At these times, my heart and soul ache, and I am constantly scarred because of sin, confusion, or even sacrifice that I've had to make. I have not had one instance wherein this seemingly eternal anguish could not be extinguished by the comfort and love of God. One of these moments occurred when I was at a Youth Conference. My friends and I chose to be a part of the musical program. Towards the end of the program, we began to sing a hymn: I Know That My Redeemer Lives. The words to this song began to fill my heart with such regret that I could not stop myself from crying because of my sin, but also because of my ignorance to the fact that God had been reaching out to me this entire time. He had always been there to save me. For a few hours afterward, I sat during a spiritual meeting; every few minutes composing myself, and then suddenly bursting into tears again. I was still ignorant to this hand that was forever outstretched.
Finally at a moment when my soul began to lose hope, my mind confused and chaotic, there played the same hymn I had sung an hour or so earlier. It was then that I felt that I had finally been plucked out of the ocean, even if for a moment. It reminded me of a child who was learning to swim. He begins to think that he will drown, and his father reaches out to tenderly pull him out of the water for a moment, to comfort him into trying to swim again. Comfort and love were the only things I felt for the last part of the meeting. A warm blanket, a soft and tender embrace, and a warm kiss on the forehead. I felt completely at peace. I know that my Redeemer lives, and that he loves me too. In the case of Jean Valjean, his savior came in the form of a kind Bishop named Myriel. For those Valjean served, their savior came in the form of M. Madeleine, M. Fauchelevent, or even an unnamed, ghostly guardian.
Charity – the pure love of Christ – is a truth that can save us from the dark; a truth that will redeem us of our sin. It then grows within us, and we can extend that hand of love to grab hold of those drenched in hate and sorrow, pulling them from the depths of hell to show them the way to the glorious rebirth of the soul.
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