Jameson Parker

irony upon the broken hill

The warm spring breeze was lapping through the foliage with a gentle hiss of music. Emerald grass flowed with the wavering breaths of wind that rose and fell at leisure. From high upon his hill Jim could see all that he owned, a sight which was true beauty to behold. The porch which held his fine wooden chair extended from a house built with choice cut stones. Any man would be proud to call the structure a home, and his emotions would swell when considering his great fortune. Such a soul would wipe the tears from his eyes with the very hands that had labored in its construction. Beyond Jim’s beloved cherry trees lay ponds of clear spring water. As they rippled and flowed the sun’s rays reflected off miniscule peaks giving the appearance he cultivated diamonds. In a way he had cultivated diamonds, for what is more beautiful than life conquered by men who came from nothing? Now in his 65th year he had built what many had failed to, and the praise was his alone.

Yet the sight of this glorious landscape would not bring him joy on this day, for up the hill his son had climbed carrying the heaviest of burdens. A burden which had weighed upon his heart for longer than he knew, and finally crushed his conscience, forcing his life into turmoil. His son, who was the pride of the family, had numerous accomplishments to his name. Yet he was now reduced to a blubbering mess and hung his head in shame. Jim’s son had led a life of sin, more than he could imagine, and now it spilled upon his feet in the form of a tearful confession. He gave his guidance as best he could, drawing from his life experience. But his son had doubts and informed his father he had delved into the scriptures. He was convinced his damnation was certain and felt he should confess it all, though Jim, feeling this was unnecessary, attempted to calm his son’s nerves. He gave practical advice that centered on worldly concerns, for this was what had brought him success, and built his beautiful home. His son, however, was wracked with confusion, unsure which commandment to follow. The father whose duty was his to honor had gifted him his wisdom, but it ran in complete opposition to what he felt was right. His readings had told him to confess his wrongdoings, regardless of their potential effect on earthly matters. He left his father’s porch feeling more confused than ever, wondering if the words of guidance were poisoned by the Tempter’s touch.

This encounter left Jim in a daze for which there was little recovery. Only a month ago his son had been a perfect prodigy, working and resting in responsible fashion. He had not known the torment swirling within the young man’s mind was so intense, or that it existed at all. The sorrowful exchange with his son forced him to reflect on the path his life had taken since leaving the church. Questions of scriptural right and wrong had followed him throughout his journey but had scarcely made a deep enough impression to slow his progress. Now they threatened to return, though they did not seek him, but instead his offspring, his beloved son. How could a young man expect to build a life of success while worried about his eternal soul? It was a distraction, and a deterrence born of a man-made entity proved to be fallible. He had seen how the church could reduce a great man to a pile of guilt, and bring about his earthly downfall.

Thinking back to his childhood, Jim recalled how he had been raised in the church. The expectation was that he would be an active participant in the faith, instead of a common pew warmer. Jim, along with the rest of his family, were heavily involved in the daily work which culminated in the Sunday service. His mother was the secretary, and his brothers and sister all had their role to play as young members of the congregation. They sang, ushered, and performed the duties of acolytes with an enthusiasm one would not normally expect from young adults. His faith had shaped his adolescent life and time spent in worship was as regular as attending school. Although his family was considerably poor, they gave their time and effort to faith and cared for others more than themselves. While living in the simple world of youth Jim made no qualms with this life and figured all families sacrificed as they had. But as he grew older, he discovered this was not the case, finding many had chosen to concern themselves with issues of daily convenience. Jim had not been granted the luxury of attending college or the inheritance of an estate. It was up to him to make his way, and how could he accomplish that while concerning himself with the church? He had observed others prioritize work over faith, and it proved fruitful for them. What business connections were to be made in a house of worship? His mind had begun to doubt the importance of a Sunday service and focus more on the pillars of financial success. The final blow to his weakening faith in the church would come in the form of a ruined union. His greatest friend had been an upstanding man, involved with his community and respected by all. But on advisement from the pastor his wife decided to leave him, tearing his life to shambles. Jim was there for his friend, and the experience served to convince him fully that he church was flawed and deserved no more of his precious time.

That was nearly a lifetime ago, and in that lifetime, Jim had experienced ups and downs of varying degrees. He had been hurt, basked in success, angered in defeat, and conducted himself as best he could. The result of his 65-year journey was monetary abundance, and a comfortable life. What else was there to strive for? Yet there was his son who had grown up with all the luxuries a successful set of parents could offer, preferring to find comfort in the church’s teachings. His son was convinced that this was the path to a better life. A return to the church and an active faith-based ethos was the best new beginning his son could fathom for a life’s journey, and in an ironic turn of events, it had been expressly the opposite in Jim’s case. He had felt the church was the least important thing in life, and that his relationship with God was his alone to determine.

As Jim leaned back into his chair, he once again looked out across the vast piece of property he owned. All was silent as the trees ceased to move, and the grass stood straight. He noticed his wooden chair had begun to make his back feel stiff and his shoulders sore. Looking closer at his cherry trees, he noticed a few had succumbed to termites, and soon would fall to the earth. His ponds stood still and, in their motionlessness, seemed dark and cold. The sun was now hidden behind gray clouds no longer lending its warmth to his land. As he rose from his chair to retire for the evening a loose plank in his deck creaked, stopping him mid step. He looked up at the worn brick farmhouse which had been his home for his entire adult life and sighed. He remembered the words of his son as moisture consumed his vision and asked himself aloud; what else is there to strive for?

Jameson Parker works in the industrial manufacturing field and enjoys writing as an expressive hobby. He authors a monthly article for a trade magazine and has been published in the Journal of Youth and Adolescence and Solid Food Press.