Will you really?
not “why?” but “what now?”
7:30 to 3:44, that was eight hours, why am I consistently able to sleep longer here? IDK, don’t understand it. Come to think of it, the bed is different, maybe it’s the bed. It’s the same downstairs bed we slept in my final weeks of Ordinary Time, and first few weeks of +Time after returning from Cleveland before being allowed to climb stairs again. Maybe it’s the bed.
Even at 3:44 my first thought of the day continues to be Hey! I showed up again this morning, thank you, God. But an ongoing thought on the mad dash to the bathroom is why did I get so lucky as to be an American for my life on earth. There are others. Bad appendix after penicillin, why? Unlike my grandmother and father, same heart issue climaxing in the 21st century, why? But an American, how and why? And born and imprinted on St. Andrews Bay. Why me? Why?
Someone will say, fool, it’s not good luck or fortunate, it’s a blessing. And though yes it feels like a blessing, it blasphemes my faith to regard it theologically as a blessing when I look around and see the birthright, situation and plight of others who are not so blessed as to live life American. Theologically I’m no more beloved of God than the Iraqi man who will be murdered by ISIS madmen today. No more beloved than the father of a Nigerian schoolgirl enslaved by Boko Haram. Or, if life is just a story after all as I am beginning to think it may be, no more beloved than Werner Pfennig, who did not have life’s chance to live into, as Volkheimer said, “what you could be.” Or ultimately, when all is said and done, than Alfred whose place in life and at table was handed on to me. Why?
The answer is the same as Rabbi Kushner’s answer to “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” but the other side of the coin, “When Good Things happen to Ordinary People.” They happen, there’s no answer, and “Why?” is not the question at all.
The issue becomes then not “why?” but “so what?” What am I called to do with this blessing, how am I to live my life with it and because of it and in thanksgiving for it? The answer is the same answer the biblical People of Israel got wrong in believing they were chosen to live exclusively and apart. The answer is identical to that of St. Paul: to share the blessing with those who missed out on it. Paul preached to bring people to the God of Jesus Christ. Maybe my call is to live into my Baptismal Covenant, to live faithfully into the “Will you?” promises that I keep renewing. What all does that lay on me?
If I were to take my vows literally and seriously, it might become extremely sacrificial. Not protective, defensive, but sacrificial, even very personally so.
So, not “why?” but "will you?" And not just "will you?" but “will you really?” I don’t know. Can I get back to you on that? Don’t call me, I’ll call you. To contemplate this may be my Lenten discipline.
