Of Life and Death
I'm feeling a little somber today -- the result of the two recent deaths in the parish, and the feelings/circumstances surrounding them.
The first was the accidental death this past weekend of a 42-year old man, John Safka, who left behind three young children, all enrolled in Villa Academy, the Catholic school across the street from the church. It was a tragic snowmobile accident, taking place during a weekend outing with friends. John was well-known and well-loved, and the church service was utterly packed with people. I think this is one of our secret fears as parents, that something might happen to us or to our spouse, something that would keep either of us from being there for our children. You could almost see those feelings among the people gathered -- it was part of the sorrow and bond with John and his children. I felt almost in a daze myself: "How is this happening?" Our community is a very supportive one, and I'm sure that people will go out of their way to surround the mother and children. But even with that good support, this is a huge blow.
Our pastor, Fr. Tim Sauer, tried right away in his homily to confront that awful question "How is this part of God's plan?" But I think there's an emotional element to that question that defies any logic or theology. My answer to the question is simply, "I don't know why things like this happen." I don't. But after sitting with that answer in silence, I still find myself able to affirm that I DO believe that we have a good God who does love us...
The second death was of a man my age (early 60's), Keith Liner, who died after a battle with cancer. Keith left behind a wife and daughter in college, and a strong heritage of service. His personal history included twenty-one years with the Marines, as a decorated veteran; and then after his daughter was born, nineteen years more with the Seattle Police Deparatment.
I didn't originally know Keith as well as I had John, but I had the honor of spending time with him in the hospital, and time with his family after his death, preparing for his funeral with them. He was a man who faced his death with a humble faith, and richly expressed his love for his family before he died. He had a deep respect for those with whom he served, and that respect was reflected in the honor and ceremony with which they said goodbye. I could not help but observe that solemn rituals are not the exclusive property of the Church. Rituals are part of human behavior, aren't they? Especially when we want to say things for which words fail.
posted by Deacon Denny @ 1:36 PM
10 comments
10 Comments:
In this tough economic time, we've often heard the term "trickle-down affect". That term is appropo in more ways than economics. My daughter, as a Seattle Police Officer, served with Keith Liner and has had her heart touched by this man. I've never met Mr. Liner, but as a father, I can relate to and appreciate how his life intertwined with mine by his excellent example of what a good man looks and acts like. My respect and honor is extended to Mr. Liner's family. Please know that your husband, your father, your friend, your co-worker left a legacy and example for all of us to follow. Well done, my friend, we shall meet in Heaven!
Richard
I've still never heard a really satisfying reason for why bad stuff happens. Still struggling with this.
Thanks, Richard, for adding those good words, for a good man.
Crystal -- it's THE recurring question that I encounter in my work at the hospital, and I think we've touched on the question before, a while back.
I think I could write a book on this, but the classic has already been written: "When Bad Things Happen to Good People," 1981, by Harold Kushner, after the death of his son Aaron.
An excerpt from a review:
"The basic question, finally, is not, 'Why do bad things happen to people?' Rather, the questions we need to come to terms with include:
'Can I find a why, a meaning, to go on living, despite what has happened?'
'Can I forgive the imperfections in God and the world which have caused me deep suffering and agony?'
'Can we forgive God and the world and go on loving in more creative ways?'"
"And if we can do these things, will we be able to recognize that the ability to forgive and the ability to love are the weapons God has given us to enable us to live fully, bravely, and meaningfully in this less-than-perfect world?"
I read and re-read this book when I started hospital ministry in 1983. The questions are still fresh, still important.
I read the book once but can't remember it all - but did he not come to the conclusion that God was not all powerful, that the reason he let bad things happen to us was because he couln't prevent it? When I start to consider this theory, I think about Jesus, who did actually help people, without, as far as I can tell, any worries about free will or disrupting the laws of nature, much less a lack of power. Maybe things are different now that he's dead? I don't want to believe that, I guess.
I think Kushner did come to that conclusion, or something very similar. I don't personally go that far, and it's not what our Catholic faith teaches, but I still have no problem with his questions, which are really good ones, and make sense to me even with our understanding of an all-powerful God.
But you know, logically, God IS limited, in a certain sense. For instance, God cannot make a stone so heavy that God could no longer lift it. That's an example my religion teacher used on us in high school.
And I think God may also be limited, at least mostly, by the choices God makes to create beings one way and not another. The example that is most to the point: God gave us a great gift in giving us our free will. Because of this, there is a hugely greater good in the universe, because we can choose to love God, and we can choose to love other people. But we just might use it wrongly, to hurt ourselves or others. How can a good God allow that, we might ask? Well, it's not free will if God does not allow us to do that. (God still "loves us between all the cracks in the world," as I like to put it, and that love and grace can & does affect us VERY powerfully. That's why I qualified this paragraph early on by saying "at least mostly.")
There are other examples, but I'm sure you follow me. So, in a certain sense then, God is limited in ways by the boundaries of the kind of universe that God created.
We certainly grieve when we experience deep loss, and we ourselves tend to fear our own death, because it's hard to trust in what comes next, because we haven't really experienced it. But... if we are TRULY immortal beings, how consequential is death, really?
That doesn't keep us from questioning. I remember something that happened to me late one night at Children's hospital, many years ago, when a small child was very sick. I knew from talking with the parents how fragile their own relationship with each other was, and how broken their lives would be if the child died. When that baby died, I was SO ANGRY with God! I could not see how any good could come from that death. I was convinced that I could have "managed that situation" better than God did.
I left that hospital so angry with God that I just wasn't reasoning about anything at all, and twenty minutes later I suddenly realized with horror that I was driving on the freeway at well over the speed limit. I managed to pull over; and then, I just sobbed.
What to say? There's often a grace in tears. I just came to a point where I realized the limits of my understanding. In thinking about that over the next days and months, I came to realize that even though I don't understand how/why certain things happen, I really DO believe in a good and loving God, who does love us very dearly, more than we could possibly imagine with our limited minds & hearts.
So, that's a long response. Peace.
Denny,
I hope it's ok to go on about this .....
I recently read some writing by an Anglican priest/theologian, Marilyn McCord Adams, called Christ and Horrors (here's a post about it)).
One thing she seemed to think was that the whole idea that the evil in the world is caused by God allowing us free will is kind of bankrupt, that really we don't have as much free will as we are wont to think. I agree with that take.
We are just so outmatched by tragedies like the one you mentioned. I don't know if you had read in my blog that my cat Kermit died a few months ago. She was like my child, I guess, though that probably sounds dumb. She was so sick and suffered so much. There is too much suffering in the world, suffering that just can't be justified by anything - how can we say the ends don't justify the means in our own lives but let God off that hook?
Yet here I am still loving Jesus/God. It's a big mess :)
Hi Crystal --
First, I always appreciate your writing.
I found the Christ and Horrors article to be very interesting, and thought that it was another way of saying that God doesn't expect us to take on the whole world by ourselves. I really believe that God's love & grace is always available to us.
Did you ever read the Merton prayer? I've forgotten how to create links on the blog, or I'd create one here. It's all about having the desire to please God, even though we know ourselves so poorly, and may poorly understand what God's will for us is. If we truly have the desire to please God in all we do, God will lead us by the right road though we will know nothing about it. I carry that prayer in my wallet, though I know it well by heart.
I didn't read about Kermit's death, since Bloglines maxed out at 200 entries, and so I missed the last 6 months or more of your posts. But you referred to it just recently in an exchange with someone else, and I had been looking for a good time/way to tell you that I was sorry for your loss. I am sorry.
And no, I don't think it's dumb for you to say she was like your child. We love our pets, and they give us a great deal of love and pleasure in return. We take care of them, share a lot of time with them, play with them, and worry over them. And it's very natural for us to cry when they're gone, and miss them terribly. I'm really sorry for your loss.
Blessings -- Denny
Hope it's okay to weigh in here. I too understand how losing a pet can be like losing a child, having watched my parents go through both.
What I am moved to say is that I think God is present in the love we have for each other. When bad stuff happens, God is with us - like the hymn says - in the love that we share. I've never really felt the core of truth is arguments as to why God "lets" bad stuff happen. God is in the love that's there WHEN the bad stuff happens.
This may sound naive or too simple, but I just can't seem to feel the truth in arguments about free will and predestination. All I know is that He doesn't disappoint, and that's why we have one another.
I'm glad you're blogging again, Denny.
I'm glad to be back, too, though around Easter things got pretty busy at the parish, and I haven't written here in a few days.
I find the arguments about free will and predestination a little forced, too. My own experience of myself is that I have a free will. I'm influenced by all sorts of things, but I still have free choices. Even when bad things happen, and even when my freedom is severely restricted, I can make choices. I enjoyed Viktor Frankl's take on the concentration camp, and finding meaning even in the worst things.
We can both love and find love even in the most desperate places, too. That's the challenge of life. That's what really moves me at Children's Hospital, when parents who are suffering along with their child can still be very loving and gracious to others. It does remind me of Christ on the cross.
I enjoyed reading yours and Crystal's interaction on "free will".
GG
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