Life Is Short

Anyone who has known me for any length of time, or who has been the recipient of my emails or blog, is well aware that I am continually trying to communicate that Life Is Good. I have it plastered on my car, have tee shirts and hats that say it and even had it chiseled on my gravestone. It is a generational message passed on from my Grandfather and Dad. Despite this, the perspective is sometimes lost even to me. Fate has a way of handing out difficult situations for all of us. They crop up and occupy enough space that the truth of life's goodness is blotted out. It happens to everyone. You can’t be on the planet for very long without receiving bad news or being overwhelmed by something or another. Perhaps there is another little phrase that should go along with Life Is Good. It is this. Life Is Short.

Nothing can buy us an extra day or an extra minute of life. And we are only here for a minute. Life Is Short. There is absolutely no hardship, misfortune or tragedy that will last forever. A friend of mine in Atlanta ten years ago told me that 'things come to pass, they don’t come to stay'. I was reminded of that today at work. It may seem that a difficulty has overtaken us and that nothing is ever going to be right again. But that is utterly untrue. Everything will change and everything will be good again. There is absolutely no chance that things will remain the same.

So the wisdom is to accept reality and celebrate the fact that we are still breathing, still standing and will make it to the other side. If we are not still standing we need to get back up and give it another try.  There will come a time for the final curtain. It would be a shame when that happens to have missed the chance to have a great time because we were busy worrying, whining and wallowing in misery. We can leave something positive with every arrival, every encounter and every departure. Or we can spread sadness, gloom and doom. One is as easy to do as the other. I opt for the positive. Life Is Good. Life Is Short. I will say it again.  "Everything is a celebration. You just have to decide whether you are going to the party or not."

Possibilities and Action

Path to Mountain Cabin ~ Photo by Steve Magin

We wake up every day to a fresh start with new opportunities. There is always the possibility of growth, development and change. This is the miraculous truth of life. The weight of the burden we carry can be put aside if we really want to do so. We are never really stuck in the rut that we might have imagined. Yesterday’s wounds, troubles and frustrations have faded into the mist of history. The mistakes that we have made do not have a life sentence attached to them. They haunt us only if we continue to repeat them. All that must happen to improve the outcome is simple, thoughtful performance.

There is no limit to the number of possibilities that are before us. We are limited only by our perception of our abilities. Nothing can stand in our way unless we bow to its inevitability. Difficulty does not spell doom. It merely means that we have to expend different energy, be more creative and be persistent. We can choose to celebrate this truth.

We have great cause to celebrate life in the fullness of time today. What kind of difference can we make with an attitude of celebration? We can fulfill our own dreams, create our own reality and inspire others with a sense of optimism. Nothing is as infectious as someone who is overflowing with passion and ignited with purpose. Life itself is the definitive adventure. We can engage it completely with positive action.

Easter Sunday

Our Monarch After First Flight ~ Photo by Steve Magin

There is something new that is happening! There is a light that has broken through the darkness. The new dawn and new day of Easter bring good news. It has been affirmed that our troubles, worries and fears have been overcome with love. Loneliness and sadness are banished. There is something more than death. Life has been revitalized. We can no longer doubt the truth of our identities. Each of us is the beloved child of God.

We walked through gardens yesterday in Memphis that celebrate spring with a display of more than 20,000 tulips. The soil, mild winters and hot summers of the south do not allow the bulbs to live from year to year. People have gone to great lengths and made tremendous sacrifice to dig and plant these brilliant bulbs that are perennial in the north. They are just going to rot and die. Why would they bother when there are so many other blooming plants that are native to the area? They do it to provide beauty and happiness in greater measure than it could have been experienced otherwise. Their visitors, most of whom are complete strangers to them, will find the brilliant greeting of glorious flowers in a land that does not support them. What a gift!

Why would God go to all of the trouble to give us Easter in an empty tomb? Perhaps it is because we are regarded that deeply. Perhaps it was to demonstrate that there is nothing more important than our relationship with Him. It is even more. It is an eternal love letter for one and for all that has been signed, sealed and delivered. What a gift! What an amazing day!

The Easter Vigil

Penn Family Memorial at North Lawn Cemetery, Utica, Ohio

The morose truth that we learn to forget is that death is our common experience.  This forgetting is a kind of saving grace in our day to day life. But death is at the core of our being.  It is exposed at extreme intervals and faced when someone we love is taken from us.  The grief is not only overwhelming but contains a kind of personal expectation.

I remember my father's funeral.  The family was gathered in the little room adjacent to the casket and just out of sight from the other mourners.  It was quiet as we waited for the service to begin.  One of my aunts turned to her sister and whispered "I wonder who will be next."  The words, though quiet, echoed in my heart.  What an ominous thought!  She was referring to herself, her sisters and brother...my dear aunts and uncle.  Two had passed before my Dad.  Five remained.  Someone would be next.  One day they would all be gone.  And of course, it came to pass. The emptiness that follows death seems unbearable.  We have been left alone and abandoned.  The time that follows the ceremonies and burial are dark.  We are numbed and seem to be just going through the motions.  There is little consolation.

These are the experiences of Holy Thursday, Good Friday and the Easter Vigil.  The church enters into death.  We stop our rush to the future and sit in collective sorrow.  We can the imagine the grief, fear and hopelessness of Jesus' family, friends and followers.  We can do this because we too have experienced the death of a loved one.  No one is spared.

It is, however, at the darkest hour on Holy Saturday that the unexpected happens and continues to happen.

Good Friday

The observance of Good Friday allows people to explore the depths of their own emptiness. We have the opportunity to understand that within our full and busy lives is the heart of a child who has been misunderstood. We find the wounds of loneliness, abandonment, insecurity, frustration, grief and agony that we avoid touching at all costs. This kind of suffering is universal to all, but unique unto each individual. How can going to this sad place serve any purpose? Why should we stop for a moment to savor the ugly? The reason is to fully accept, recognize and grasp our own humanity.

It is only through an acceptance of our own suffering that we can become truly useful to others. We have been broken in order that we might be given to others. I am reminded of the lyrics of “The Rose” performed by Bette Midler:

It's the heart afraid of breaking

that never learns to dance.

It's the dream afraid of waking

that never takes the chance.

It's the one who won't be taken,

who cannot seem to give,

and the soul afraid of dying

that never learns to live.

These acts of reflection and acceptance lead to reconciliation. Reconciliation leads to meaningful service to others. That is what makes Good Friday good.

Holy Thursday and Brokenness

The Savior of Zvenigorod

The Savior of Zvenigorod, an icon painted by Andrei Rublev sometime in the early fifteenth century, has been a great source of meditation for people over the centuries.  Henri Nouwen, the catholic scholar, priest, activist and author, wrote about it in his book "Behold the Beauty of the Lord" about twenty years ago.  He was moved by the depiction of Jesus because of his obvious brokenness and compassion. For Nouwen the facial expression became a profound spiritual experience.  The Saviour does not look severe, he doesn't judge, but sees everything.  Christ’s eyes seem to be directed at him.  He concludes that Christ’s tender and loving gaze penetrates the brokenness of humanity.

The icon is a powerful image for me as well.  Those eyes seem to be looking at that part in me which denies, and through that denial, betrays.  They look at me as they must have done with Peter on the night of his trial.  Three times he strongly declares that he does not know Jesus and is certainly not a follower.  The rooster crows and Peter looks over to see Jesus looking at him with those forgiving eyes.  Again and again I am forgiven.  Again and again I repeat my mistakes.  There is no judgement.  Only love and compassion.  Jesus suffers with me in solidarity.  Through this my weakness becomes my strength.  My brokenness becomes my path to healing and hope.

It is sometimes difficult to deal with that which has been broken. The proud, strong and invincible youth that we once were has stumbled. The idealism and dream that was clearly defined in our character and mind has dimmed or altered. Our hearts have been wrenched by losses and disappointments. There is no way to avoid these occasions of brokenness. Living life from day to day necessitates their occurrence.

Nouwen says "We are called to claim our unique brokenness, just as we have to claim our unique chosenness and our unique blessedness."  This should give us peace, hope and direction. Our brokenness is distinctive to each of us. It is through these experiences that we receive bread for the journey. We are like the reed which must be dried, hollowed out and carved in order to become a flute. Our music is played only through our brokenness. The one facet of our being that others can clearly relate to is that which has caused us pain. The one light that shines for others is our subsequent ability to live through it, make it to the other side, survive and then to thrive. Our brokenness can provide the lamp of hope for others. The healing eyes of The Savior of Zvenigorod urge us on.