An oil painting in an Uribelarrea church catches our breath

"Doesn't it catch your breath!" said the young woman in a loud supressed whisper.

"It's the art, the form, the expression on his face," replied the gentleman in a calm voice, as if blocking a more explicit sound.

"I see God in his face," said the woman, now more tranquil.

"If you believe in God you can see him anywhere."

"What do you mean?"

"Why does he only have to be in Churches or ikons, or ideographs or paintings?

"Because the Church is His home."

"Oh come on! Why not in the trees, the flowers, the earth, the rain, the sun, the stars, in the most distant of distant points?"

"But look at his face, look at his poor leg, look at the more than human expression in his eyes."

"I see it and I am touched, as I am touched by the sweet eyes of a kid, the way a female lion tenderly kisses her cub, the way certain plants grab onto cement crevices and grow poetically."

"Aren't you a believer? Don't you realize that our only salvation is through Him?"

"I really don't know if mankind can be saved; in any event saved for what? We are the masters of our destinies, in spite of our cruelties, the wars of believers against believers, the daily violation of the most basic human rights...what we conceive of as something above and beyond us is but the light, the energy that flows within us and if we need to manifest that in a carving, we do so, if we need to manifest it in a deity, we do so."

The guard at the Church kindly explained that the hour had come to close and so the man and the woman left, still exchanging their views. Who knows who they were and who knows who was right and who knows where that stroke of genious comes that enables a man to take a piece of wood or rock and give it something close to life.