In chapter 10 of Mary Shelley’s classic novel, Dr. Victor Frankenstein meets his created beast in the mountains after a two year period of silence. This scene is intense, and wrought with heavy emotion from both characters. Sparing too much detail, it’s suffice to say this: both characters desperately want something.
You see, Frankenstein’s creation, the monster, wants his creator to acknowledge his existence, to understand his misery, and to fix the problem that only a creator can fix. The monster longs for acceptance, for love, for wholeness. And in all of his travels and interactions with humans, he has yet to find one being who could show him the love and acceptance he desperately craves. So, he seeks the hand of his creator, beseeching him to grant him peace by simply answering this one plea: make me a mate who is just like me who can enjoy life with me.
Dr. Frankenstein wants something too; he wants his creature to be destroyed and to forever be drive from his sight and memory. Ouch. Could you imagine creating such an intense detestation from someone that they want even the memory of you erased? Ouch. Again. What makes matters simply more heartbreaking (for both the monster and the doctor) is that Frankenstein created this being, thus he is fully responsible for the beings existence and quality of life. And watching the beast stand begging before a hateful creator breaks my heart more than these mere words can say.
I asked my seniors today why that is: why do we identify with the beast in this scene?
The answer: because we are the beast. Each and every day, we are that miserable wretch, longing for acceptance, love, and wholeness.
And I can’t help but rejoice when I think of how drastically different a conversation with MY CREATOR looks in direct contrast to the one seen here in chapter 10.
My Creator has already promised eternal acceptance through the death of His Son. His word continually reassures me of his steadfast love. I am told I am made whole through the sacrifice of Jesus, and I belong to an eternal family of believers. I’m not alone. I’m not a lonely monster desperately walking the planet after being shunned by my creator. I’m accepted. I’m loved. I’m whole.
But how many people out there don’t know of this truth? How many people out there are simple meandering through the “mountains” in search of purpose and hope, only to be met with emptiness and doubt?
Too many people. That’s how many.
As I contemplate the deplorable fate of Frankenstein’s beast, I can’t help but shutter. That could have been me. That was me. But God….