Deshi Basara!

"Why do we fall, Master Wayne?"
Michael Caine's steady British tones reverberate around the hushed theater.  Lights dimmed, blond head on my shoulder.  Black, tattered cape tucked to the side.  The 2:30 hush settles over my eyes and tired, popcorn stained fingers. Tired mind starting to wander, dabbling on the black cape fringe of sleep.
Mmm, Michael Caine just keep talking...

"Why do we fall, Master Wayne?"

Huh?

"Why do we fall?"

Oh...I don't know...you've got the accent, you tell me...

"To get back up."

The line brings me back from the tipping brink of a caffeine crash.
Rise, Rise, Rise, Rise, Rise. Suddenly I'm more awake.
Yeah, get back up Bruce! Get back up!

Get back up.

It's been a while since the Dark Knight Rises premiere.  I somehow made it out of the theater and into sound sleep in the backseat of my brother's car.  I slept in till the full sun of the next summer afternoon fell thick, warm, and sweet through the window panes, and began the next seven months without a second thought toward Master Wayne and Rise, Rise, Rise.

But rise never means much until you've fallen.


And down here once again at the bottom of the pit, I look up at the blue sky, the surface world, and all the happy, happy people far, far away. And I lie in the filth of my own failure.  The broken promises and tears and "I swear this is the last time"s.  And how easy it is to rationalize, to lie to all of you and even more to myself.  And hell, why not lie to God too while I'm at it? And back broken and bloody on the unforgiving tile, I can only lie here and look up at the light and feel in the depth of my core the exhaustion of the impending climb.  And aw screw it, I'm just gonna lie here alone.  Forget the upper world.  Forget the happy people.  Forget everything but the latest failure and curl up in its sneering guilt.

"I’m just a flawed man, man I fucked up.
Like so many others I just never thought I would.
I never thought I would, didn’t pick up the book
Doin’ it by myself, didn’t turn out that good."

And "relapse" is too pretty a word.  Too neat and clean. Sterilized from the jagged edges, the disease-ridden , dank dungeon of addiction, and the devil whisper that never actually goes away.  It says nothing to the days you overcame.  The two months free.  The heart conviction that at last it is all gone, all done.  And shattered now, they dig in like so much cutting glass, breaking, tearing, and painful as hell.  

And you know, oh yes you know, that you have no one else to blame. 

But why do we fall, Master Wayne? 

"We fell so hard
Now we gotta get back what we lost."

And from the cold, hard bottom I look up at the sky.  I look up at the surface world and the happy, happy people who need me still.  And every atom of flesh in my heart screams out, "No! No! What's the use?". And the devil voice still whispers, "stay here, they won't want you back."  But it's not about them.  It never has been.

So my faulty hands find slick, earth walls, and I begin the climb.  Or rather He begins the climb and I hold on for dear life.  And today I'm just a few feet off the ground, heavy heart weighing me down and tired hands barely keeping their grip. 

But I feel His heartbeat even when I can't hear his voice.

"I thought you'd go
But you were with me all along"

I feel the sweat bead up on the back of His neck and roll down on my arms.  And I look down and realize it's hot, red, and sickly-sweet, and His sweat-blood mixes with my own.  And I want to run away from this, from Him.  From love, from hope, from the sweaty back I cling to, but then I feel His heart beat. And it's strange to know He has a heart like mine: broken, beating, and human.  And it's calling my name with every pulse. 

So why do we fall, Michael Caine?

We fall because we cannot fly,

because we are weak-willed and wretched,

because the devil voice is often drunken-sweet.

We fall because we are not giants,

though even giants fall,

and mice-sized men, we can never conquer on our own.

We fall because it is not until we've hit the bottom that we can truly love the sky,

and it is not until we lie there in failure that inexhaustible agape becomes the most beautiful of pearls, drowned in unconditional faithfulness.

And yes, we fall so we can get back up.

So we can start over one more time. 

1What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? 2By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? 3Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. ... 11In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. 12Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. 13Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness. 14For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.