November Blessings, Bill! How timely that this reflection comes on All Saints Day/ All Souls Day weekend. What genuinely matters is that you have lived and now, by the grace of God, you are ready to pass into eternity. Henri Nouwen writes of open hands instead of clenched fists -- that image comes to mind as you unfurl your life to the Lord's will and timing.
Powerful Niebuhr quote; I don't remember reading it before-- perhaps in my youth and I wasn't ready for it then! ;-)
"With Open Hands" is a book on prayer (Ave Maria Press, 1972; my copy is 1979). In the introduction titled "With Clenched Fists," Nouwen writes: "When you dare to let go and surrender one of those many fears, your hand relaxes and your palms spread out in a gesture of receiving. You must have patience, of course, before your hands are completely open and their muscles relaxed."
What, then, will be the human legacy? When measured against the span of life on Earth - nothing. The whole of human history, so intense and so brief - all the wars, all the literature, all the princes and dictators in their palaces, all the joy, all the suffering, all the loves, and dreams, and achievements - will leave no more than a layer, millimeters thick, in some future sedimentary rock until that, too, is eroded to dust and comes to rest at the bottom of the ocean.
Somehow, though, this makes it all the more significant, all the more important that we seek to preserve what we have, to make our mayfly existence as comfortable as possible, for ourselves and our fellow species.
Star Maker, by Olaf Stapledon (1886-1950) is perhaps the most audacious piece of speculative fiction ever published. ... The story tells of the history of our cosmos, which (in the story) takes more than 400 billion years to unfold - and that's just one of several universes. The history of humanity occupies a mere paragraph.
In the story, the protagonist walks out of his cottage following an argument with his spouse. Sitting on a hillside, he is seized by a vision in which he is transported into the cosmos. Encountering other wanderers, he becomes part of a community of souls that engages in many adventures until, now accumulated as a cosmic mind, it encounters the Creator. Our universe is just an essay in the craft; other toy universes scatter the Creator's workshop. Further, greater universes are yet to come.
Returning home, the protagonist reflects on his travels. It is worth remembering that Stapledon was a confirmed pacificist who had nevertheless witnessed the horrors of war firsthand, having worked with the Friend's Ambulance Unit on the Western Front. Star Maker was published in 1937, when the world was sliding into another global conflict: something the protagonist discusses in the book's prologue and afterword.
How, asks the narrator, can an ordinary person face up to such inhuman horror?
"Two lights for guidance," he offers. The first, "our little glowing atom of community." The second, seemingly antitethtical, "the cold light of the starts," in which matters such as world wars are of negligible account. He concludes:
Strange, that it seems more, not less, urgent to play some part in this struggle, this brief effort of animalcules striving to win for their race some increase of lucidity before the ultimate darkness.
Therefore, do not despair. The Earth abides, and life is living yet.
Gee, Henry. A (Very) Short History of Life on Earth: 4.6 Billion Years in 12 Pithy Chapters. St. Martin's Press, 2021.
The painting Among the Sierra Nevada is amazing with the sky so rich with its welcoming appearance being the focal point in the painting. A great painter may struggle with a piece, feeling it is not good enough, that a part needs to be painted over, never feeling it is totally finished and yet others see a masterpiece. When we look in the mirror we are the harshest critics of our appearance. Bill your life work has had significant impact. You have influenced so many others. Their accomplishments are your accomplishments, too. The world is a better place from having had you here as such an intelligent contributor to knowledge and understanding. Your writings now will ease the load for the rest of us when our time comes. Even during this difficult time, you continue to give the world rich and incredible gifts. Thank you Bill.
Thank you Bill. That you are ready is a blessing. This is what's most important.
*** The rest, below, is less important musing. ***
In sharing, and as always, you have offered grist for contemplation. I spent some time pondering the extent to which each of hope, faith, love, and forgiveness can be offered/received vs (only) generated internally (so exogenously vs (only) endogenously sourced). I have not decided if they are concepts of the same order or of different orders. For example, we say "I love/forgive you" but not "I faith/hope you." Is this just a consequence of English grammar or something deeper?
Separately, what makes the difference between not being ready to die in one moment and being ready to die in the next? Something has been completed or exhausted? Some insight sparked? Some crucial arrangements made? As this is a threshold I've not crossed, I don't know.
One could also ask: Is readiness for death itself a threshold one crosses in both directions? I imagine many do, but can only imagine. If so, when is the "final" readiness? Or, do we know it is the final one if/when it arrives?
We could ask some of these questions about other thresholds. It often seems it should be possible to endure just one more second of the breath hold, one more inch of the barbell lift, one more step of the climb. This is true ... until it isn't. Sometimes we think we've reached the final one and we haven't. What, exactly, makes the difference? And, it must matter a great deal that these are revisit-able thresholds, whereas (this life's) death is not.
I hope that when your time comes the journey will be peaceful and surrounded by love.
Oh Bill, the image of you being in Kathi's arms and gently leaving us is beautiful, if very sad. Thank you for sharing this. x
Foregiveness is the ultimate koan.
May the peace of the Lord which passes all understanding keep your heart and mind in the knowledge and love of God.
And most of all, thank you, Bill.
November Blessings, Bill! How timely that this reflection comes on All Saints Day/ All Souls Day weekend. What genuinely matters is that you have lived and now, by the grace of God, you are ready to pass into eternity. Henri Nouwen writes of open hands instead of clenched fists -- that image comes to mind as you unfurl your life to the Lord's will and timing.
Powerful Niebuhr quote; I don't remember reading it before-- perhaps in my youth and I wasn't ready for it then! ;-)
Thank you, Maria. Where is the Nouwen quote from?
"With Open Hands" is a book on prayer (Ave Maria Press, 1972; my copy is 1979). In the introduction titled "With Clenched Fists," Nouwen writes: "When you dare to let go and surrender one of those many fears, your hand relaxes and your palms spread out in a gesture of receiving. You must have patience, of course, before your hands are completely open and their muscles relaxed."
What, then, will be the human legacy? When measured against the span of life on Earth - nothing. The whole of human history, so intense and so brief - all the wars, all the literature, all the princes and dictators in their palaces, all the joy, all the suffering, all the loves, and dreams, and achievements - will leave no more than a layer, millimeters thick, in some future sedimentary rock until that, too, is eroded to dust and comes to rest at the bottom of the ocean.
Somehow, though, this makes it all the more significant, all the more important that we seek to preserve what we have, to make our mayfly existence as comfortable as possible, for ourselves and our fellow species.
Star Maker, by Olaf Stapledon (1886-1950) is perhaps the most audacious piece of speculative fiction ever published. ... The story tells of the history of our cosmos, which (in the story) takes more than 400 billion years to unfold - and that's just one of several universes. The history of humanity occupies a mere paragraph.
In the story, the protagonist walks out of his cottage following an argument with his spouse. Sitting on a hillside, he is seized by a vision in which he is transported into the cosmos. Encountering other wanderers, he becomes part of a community of souls that engages in many adventures until, now accumulated as a cosmic mind, it encounters the Creator. Our universe is just an essay in the craft; other toy universes scatter the Creator's workshop. Further, greater universes are yet to come.
Returning home, the protagonist reflects on his travels. It is worth remembering that Stapledon was a confirmed pacificist who had nevertheless witnessed the horrors of war firsthand, having worked with the Friend's Ambulance Unit on the Western Front. Star Maker was published in 1937, when the world was sliding into another global conflict: something the protagonist discusses in the book's prologue and afterword.
How, asks the narrator, can an ordinary person face up to such inhuman horror?
"Two lights for guidance," he offers. The first, "our little glowing atom of community." The second, seemingly antitethtical, "the cold light of the starts," in which matters such as world wars are of negligible account. He concludes:
Strange, that it seems more, not less, urgent to play some part in this struggle, this brief effort of animalcules striving to win for their race some increase of lucidity before the ultimate darkness.
Therefore, do not despair. The Earth abides, and life is living yet.
Gee, Henry. A (Very) Short History of Life on Earth: 4.6 Billion Years in 12 Pithy Chapters. St. Martin's Press, 2021.
The painting Among the Sierra Nevada is amazing with the sky so rich with its welcoming appearance being the focal point in the painting. A great painter may struggle with a piece, feeling it is not good enough, that a part needs to be painted over, never feeling it is totally finished and yet others see a masterpiece. When we look in the mirror we are the harshest critics of our appearance. Bill your life work has had significant impact. You have influenced so many others. Their accomplishments are your accomplishments, too. The world is a better place from having had you here as such an intelligent contributor to knowledge and understanding. Your writings now will ease the load for the rest of us when our time comes. Even during this difficult time, you continue to give the world rich and incredible gifts. Thank you Bill.
Your words touch me deeply
Bill, you know I'll be thinking of you on election night. 8 years in a blink. Thank you again for continuing to share your thoughts.
Thank you Bill. That you are ready is a blessing. This is what's most important.
*** The rest, below, is less important musing. ***
In sharing, and as always, you have offered grist for contemplation. I spent some time pondering the extent to which each of hope, faith, love, and forgiveness can be offered/received vs (only) generated internally (so exogenously vs (only) endogenously sourced). I have not decided if they are concepts of the same order or of different orders. For example, we say "I love/forgive you" but not "I faith/hope you." Is this just a consequence of English grammar or something deeper?
Separately, what makes the difference between not being ready to die in one moment and being ready to die in the next? Something has been completed or exhausted? Some insight sparked? Some crucial arrangements made? As this is a threshold I've not crossed, I don't know.
One could also ask: Is readiness for death itself a threshold one crosses in both directions? I imagine many do, but can only imagine. If so, when is the "final" readiness? Or, do we know it is the final one if/when it arrives?
We could ask some of these questions about other thresholds. It often seems it should be possible to endure just one more second of the breath hold, one more inch of the barbell lift, one more step of the climb. This is true ... until it isn't. Sometimes we think we've reached the final one and we haven't. What, exactly, makes the difference? And, it must matter a great deal that these are revisit-able thresholds, whereas (this life's) death is not.
Austin, I have thoughts on each of your important quesstions. I'll try to get to them as I have time. But thank you for the stimulating comment.