Romeo and Juliet has never been my favorite Shakespeare. Perhaps that was why God gave me two opportunities to see it performed in the last few months. It hit me so hard each time that I played with the plot to find out what was bothering me.
I wonder how it would be different if it was set on All Hallow’s Eve and a mischievous child entered the Capulet mausoleum to interrupt Romeo’s planned suicide. In a jester’s costume the child could tease Romeo for loving Death on such a night, for wearing its mask in lieu of a proper costume. Or accuse him of being a grave robber, valuing Death over Life. The child dances and duels an invisible Death with a fool’s scepter, “For I would cleave Death thusly!” Romeo leaves with the child, who admits he needs help getting out of the labyrinthine graveyard. Juliet wakes in the pitch black, she panics and her hands search about, finding the poison that Romeo has left behind. She’s convinced she’s already half dead and takes the poison to complete the journey.
Romeo lives. Juliet dies.
Earlier in the play, Juliet fakes her death, but no one present knows it. Her father:
Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she’s cold:
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;
Life and these lips have long been separated:
Death lies on her like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
These words. A pretty, dark haired, too young woman lies lifeless on a bed. A father wailing like my grandfather did and like I did so many times in my wife’s hospital room. I’m back in all those moments again: sharing the news of her impending death, watching it come, then leaving that room, no longer hers, now belonging to Death. They are not memories, I am there again.
Romeo lives. Juliet dies.
What of Romeo then? Does fair Rosaline finally appear on stage to console him, encasing him in teenage woe for the rest of his days? Does he stoke the fires of conflict with the Capulets, his secret in-laws, and wage war on human frailty, on himself? Or does he embrace his banishment, go into the world as a man who has faced Death and chosen life? No longer a boy, now a man armed with the strength of a blazing star of love and an intimate encounter with vulnerability.
“If only you could be as lucky as Romeo.”
Twice this week I heard variations of, “We can’t all be as lucky as you, Jason.” Both times it brought a comical smile to my face, “Oh yeah, let me tell you how lucky I am…”
I’m in love and most certainly deserve to be teased for being a 40-year-old Romeo. At least the Romeo from my rewrite. I’ve laid my heart open to the world like a fearless child. I’ve let disappointment, anger, heartache, and confusion climb into the ring and try their best to kill the love. Like a man, I’ve faced these emotions and let them take their shots. I’ve been scared, knocked off my feet, unsure of standing up for the next round. I’ve seen myself hanging from a rope in my bedroom, in the back of a police car for a drunken rampage…I’ve seen myself running away. I’ve seen death and pain and powerlessness and I’ve chosen another path. I’ve consciously chosen life and love more times than I could count.
I am one who has seen affliction
under the rod of God’s wrath;
he has driven and brought me
into darkness without any light;
against me alone he turns his hand
again and again, all day long…
But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
therefore I will hope in him.”
Lamentations 3:1-3…12-24
Mary left me with a glimpse of God’s infinite Love. Sometimes it is a pinprick of light in a starless sky. Sometimes it is as bright and beautiful as Asgard’s Rainbow Bridge, with edges into the abyss, but wide bands of color to light my journey. That’s when I know I’m in the right place, going the right way.
My soul has been reunited with a long lost traveler on that bridge. Her name is Pinar, “source” or “well spring” in Turkish. In her eyes I see centuries of longing and searching. Our souls have been on separate paths for generations, seeking a return to a love that never waned in that distance.
Even in this life it seemed we needed to learn a few more lessons and face a few more tragedies before we would be ready to meet again. I am humbled that God has entrusted me with this ancient love once again. I am humbled that He blessed me with a lifetime of memories in 13 short years with Mary. I am blessed by the riches of growth that have been made available to me in this life. I am blessed by the love I share with Pinar.
“We can’t all be as lucky as you, Jason.”
Yes, you can. It is a choice. Life is beyond your control and will do what it can to crush you and kill you. Life will take everything away from you, except your power to choose. Look at what you are choosing. What is your highest ideal? What is the one example or principle you turn to when you are at the bottom of a muddy ditch and the sides seem too slippery to ascend? That’s what you worship and that is your choice. When I feel out of power, overwhelmed by heartache, or in over my head, I choose Love and Jesus Christ. You don’t have to chose as I have, but think about how high your sight can stretch. Are you looking at the stars, or a fancy car? What’s going to last longer? What’s going to be there when a tornado has ripped through your town and your heart? Everything on this Earth will die and be less than dust. Even Pinar, whom I love with all my heart will cease to exist in her presently exquisite form. That is why I target my gaze at an eternal and infinite God. He is in the stars, the leaves on the ground, the darkest nights, Pinar’s smile, and everywhere when I’m looking in the right direction.
Figure out what you are going to choose, just for today. No conversion, no commitment, no bravery required (not yet anyhow). See if you can aim at something higher.
God bless you and thank you for reading,
Jason
Enormous thanks to Alessandra Nicole for use of her photo of Delaware Shakespeare’s current production of Romeo and Juliet, touring the state now through November 17, 2019.
I’m not sure if I’d seen this picture before yesterday. I am sure I didn’t see Isaac’s arms wrapped as far around Michael Franti as he could manage. I didn’t see Franti’s hand pulling him in to soak up the love. Nor Franti’s smile as he reached out to share more love with our new friends.