"Weak and wobbly people"


Field for the British Isles - Antony Gormley
(Image found on jimcromwell.mcmail.com)

Thousands and thousands of little clay figures, filling the floor of a large room from wall to wall, all looking up at you. Each one is unique - a different shape, a different personality. Patches of different colours alternate like cloud shadows, and along the back wall, the heights undulate like trees across gentle hills. Every now and then, a particularly tall figure sticks out from those around it. And all are gazing at you. The ones at your feet are looking almost straight up. For some reason, it's very solemn, almost serious, and leaves you grinning from ear to ear just thinking about it as you walk away.

The phrase at the top of this entry is from a prayer at Holy Trinity Brompton by the vicar, Sandy Millar, at the evening service I went to after the museum. "Lord, we're sorry for being such weak and wobbly people." That's certainly how I feel often. And I wonder how God feels, looking out from his doorway at an endless field of weak and wobbly figures made out of clay, stretching from his feet out to the far horizons, staring up at him, watching, waiting. I suppose he knows both sides, since he stood on the floor gazing up too, once.

This alone is worth a visit to the British Museum. I'll probably go back once before I leave London to see it again. (Sorry for the non-original image, but no photos were allowed in the exhibit.)