REALITY CHECK
After a big transition like the one through which we have gone, life has a way of slamming us back to reality in a hurry. Although I somewhat agree with a friend who repeatedly insists that a “little reality goes a long way,” reality is all we really have.
People still get sick; some of them die way too young while others hang on way too long. Complicated relationships at work, home and on the subway are just as complicated as they were prior to the “big event.” Spit-polished surfaces have to be re-polished; eventually the room filled with flowers and candlelight has to be cleared of both in the unforgiving glare of daylight. Point made.
On Monday I will officiate at the funeral of a beautiful, brilliant, funny young woman, mother of a small child, adoring wife of a husband who simply adored her. Yes, HER funeral -- even the notion is outrageous. If you can easily make sense of that, I confess that I probably will not be able to hear you. I will try but probably will not succeed.
When I can catch my breath, I still remember that life and God are good; and though neither can be counted on to stop one iota of reality being hurled toward us, in some mysterious way I continue to believe in both. (“Believe” is less precise than I long for since “believing” for me has so little to do with it, but it is the best I can do.)
Both just ARE. Though it is awfully early in the day to be so Tillichian, both exist as the ground of our being. And I will take it.
Though this admission has a self-serving edge to it, I can’t help but be grateful that St. Bart’s is the kind of place that allows, even encourages life without a great deal of precise answers or “correct” belief, whatever that is. I know that doesn’t work for everyone (though I’d love it if it did), and I frankly am not sure that I am more right than those who disagree.
I just know that when I catch my breath, I can still remember that life and God are good.
