I first read Invictus by Ernest Henley when I was in ninth grade. I would have been 13 years old. My English teacher, Mrs. Beyers, not only had us read the poem, but promised extra credit if we would learn it and recite it in front of the class. I memorized easily and had no problem learning the words themselves. I did, however, run into big trouble with the meaning of the words. It was one thing to let the words drift through my mind. It was another thing to form those words with my mouth and utter them for others to hear. I recoiled at the image of those words coming out of my mouth.
"It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishment the scroll." What??? Of course, it matters! Unless there is no God, no afterlife, no punishment or reward.
I knew then and know now, that there is no way to prove that God exists. But, there is also no way to prove that He doesn't exist. Maybe someone else is brave enough to shake his fist at the heavens, gambling that he is not shaking it in God's face. I am just not that big a risk taker.
I am not saying that I live in fear of a God who might or might not be there. I "know" from my personal experience that He is there, and that He desires to have a relationship with us, the people He has created. I do realize, however, that what I "know" and what I can prove by scientific method are two different things. Those who would tell me I can't prove He is there, cannot prove that He isn't there. I find it just plain foolish of them to take a chance on eternity.
"I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul." Oh, now, there's a great idea! Humanly speaking, I am plenty smart and plenty wise, but I am imperfect and I cannot see the future. I have no desire to be the master of my fate and the captain of my soul. I prefer to leave that in the hands of someone who is perfect and who can see the future. I do not believe in the "bludgeonings of chance."
The day came for the extra credit recitation. Mrs. Beyers asked if anyone had memorized the poem and was ready to recite it. No one offered. Then she looked right at me...I was probably trying so hard not to attract attention, that I attracted attention.
"You know it, don't you, Ruth?"
"Yes."
"Well, stand up and say it for us."
"I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't believe what it says."
Brief silence..no argument...the class went on.
Years passed. I read following the execution of Timothy McVey that he had not spoken any final words, but had left a written message which included Invictus by Ernest Henley.
I grew up in western New York outside of Buffalo. Timothy McVey, executed for the Oklahoma City bombing, grew up in western New York, outside of Buffalo. I wondered had my English teacher and his English teacher been at the same conference and heard an expert suggest that students be asked to memorize that poem? What was it that emblazoned those words in his mind? Was it fascination?
For me, it was horror and deep sadness. I am sick with fear for the person who boldly speaks the words of Invictus. The image which come to my mind is Boris in the movie Goldeneye, who shouts "I am invincible" just as he is about to be flash-frozen by liquid nitrogen, which the viewer can see is already exploding behind him, as he makes his triumphant exclamation. It is hilarious in the movie, but not funny at all in reality.
