But we also think about ourselves. Someone else's death forcibly reminds us that our time on earth is limited: "Dust you are, and unto dust you shall return." We may think about our health, resolve to diet, to lay off the booze or the sweets, to get more sleep. But, if we're honest, our self-scrutiny will go deeper: how are we living this one, limited life we've been given? HOW SHOULD WE BE LIVING OUR LIFE?
At this point, we may start thinking about all the heroic things we could or should be doing in our lives, all the changes we might make. And, maybe some of these insights are good or true; maybe God is calling us to a different life, an unexpected vocation, or a new ministry. But, in most cases, God is calling us to move more deeply into the life we already have, into the job and relationships we struggle to be faithful to. Or to the prayer, relationships, and possibly ministry we have in our retirement - even our illnesses. To truly, mindfully, stand where we are standing. Fr. Ronald Rolheiser, in his book "Sacred Fire," gives a perfect example of this:
"A number of years ago, one of my cousins died in an industrial accident. He had been helping load some railway cars at a grain terminal when a cable pulling the cars away snapped, sprang back with thousands of pounds of tension, and literally cut him in half. He died en route to the hospital. He was young, in the prime of his life, and a talented athlete who enjoyed playing sports on a number of local teams.
"Tragic and sad as was his death, his family and loved ones had some consolations: his last days had been good, his last touches had been warm. He had dropped in for lunch with his mother just a few days prior to his death, enjoyed a great visit, and, on leaving, had kissed her a warm goodbye, assuring her of his affection. Several weeks earlier, he had taken his youngest brother, who idolized him, on a short vacation to watch baseball games. He had, as far as anyone knew, parted on peaceful terms with everyone, and he had died doing his job. Loading grain cars was his job, and when that cable snapped and killed him, he was standing where he was supposed to be standing at that moment. Indeed, had he not been there, someone else would have been, and that person would have suffered his fate. He died at his post, doing his job, working honestly, earning a living, a victim of contingency, standing where he was supposed to be standing.
"Ultimately, that is all we can try to assure for ourselves. We can try to be standing where we are supposed to be standing."
No one can predict or know when his or her last day will be - or that of our loved ones. We can certainly pray for God's protection. We can protect ourselves and others, but only to a certain point. Beyond our own small attempts to "control" our destinies, we are woefully inadequate. And hyper-vigilance and unhealthy anxiety will not change the final outcome, nor will recklessly enjoying ourselves as if tomorrow will never come. What should we do, then?
Fr. Rolheiser gives us some wonderful suggestions:
- To stand where we are supposed to be standing - faithful, at our post.
- To live and love in such a way that we work to make peace with everyone.
- To love others with warm words and warm acts of affection and affirmation.
When we live in such a way, we are being faithful to God as God is always faithful to us, for we are being grateful for and faithful to the life He has given us. This is how we live out our faith: not only by praying, but through being faithful to our commitments.
Yesterday, my eighty year old husband talked on the phone with his ninety-something brother, who lives several states away. They haven't seen each other in years. They reminisced about their youth, they shared joys and sorrows about health and grand-kids, and then at the end of the call, my old-fashioned, stoic brother-in-law said to my husband "I love you." My husband returned his affection, murmuring "I love you too." I was moved to tears. How important that was to say and to hear for both of them!
The famous spiritual writer John Powell once wrote: "There are only two potential tragedies in life, and dying young is not one of them." What are they? "To live and to not love, and to love and to never express that affection and appreciation." (in John Powell, "Unconditional Love.")
Faith is not so much something that we believe; faith is something we live out in our lives. The two are intertwined: how deeply we believe impacts on how deeply and mindfully and lovingly we live our lives; and how deeply and mindfully and lovingly we live our lives continually deepens and matures our faith.
As Father Rolheiser concludes,
"In the end, we are all vulnerable, contingent, and helpless both to protect our loved ones and ourselves. We cannot guarantee life, safety, salvation, or forgiveness for ourselves or for those we love. Maturity depends upon accepting this with trust rather than anxiety. We can only do our best, whatever our place in life, wherever we stand, whatever our limits, whatever our shortcomings, and trust that this is enough, that if we die at our post, honest, doing our duty, God will do the rest." ("Sacred Fire.")
Put simply: Do your best, and God will take care of the rest!