Signs of Hope and Faith

This past Christmas season and on this new year, still in the midst of the pandemic, largely isolated and watching the steady and inexorable deterioration of both our society and the planet, my mind has been much on the death of loved ones and the inevitable unraveling and dissolution of each and every object, event, circumstance, and condition — the end of each moment and of each life.

I sit this morning in the midst of a moment when one of my best friend's wives is dying of bulbar palsy, and another best friend has stage four cancer.

One would think these are depressing and difficult moments; and one would think that opening the new year with contemplation of these subjects is not good enough, that one ought to be thinking about positive situations of optimism and continuation and hope and goodness.

Just two days ago a rather wonderful and blessedly uncomplicated man, Eddie, who does some yardwork for us from time to time ended up behind me on his bicycle as we rode along the Hudson river… a fortunate accident of time and circumstance. Eddie always seems cheerful, despite the fact that his wife died tragically some 10 or so months ago. He announced to me that he’s always optimistic – and indeed he sounds so, which is touching in a way that can't quite be described. He seems to be a molecular nexus of happiness in the midst of these lives of ours that produce so much turmoil, consternation, and end for each of us in death. It is a good thing we have these souls to buoy us, else we should forget what is real, and sink.

That same night, there was another moment when our closest friends in work and faith, Catholics as it happens, came over and we discussed the act of keeping the faith. It had occurred to me recently, I reported to them, as it has in the past, that I live in the midst of heathens who want to have nothing to do with God or religion, that do not believe in Jesus or the hope of rebirth and resurrection in the covenant between God and man. And I reported further to them that I see it as our duty to keep and carry forth the faith on behalf of all those who do not—to carry the inner light of God's truth within and witness it, without judgment or condemnation, without expecting others to believe what I believe, without blaming them for their failure to be loyal to God and to Truth in the form and function of the church and the immeasurable blessings of the Holy Virgin.

I can't expect others to believe in these things; it would even be unreasonable and wrong of me to try and impose faith or belief or the truths I have inwardly encountered on others. For whatever reason – and it is God’s reason, not mine, which is why I am bound to respect it—this is how the universe was built, the way in which the cosmos was constructed, and each soul has to find its own way and be responsible for it. We can only meet this difference which His creation demands with love; and the tolerance of every great difference that God has created and allowed to be, even the tolerance of those who are evil, is a test of who we are and how much we believe in God's love. Often this is a great test, because evil is a great thing and has its way over so much of what is.

If this were not necessary, God would never have allowed it to be so; and in the end, even evil will be redeemed. I know in the marrow of my bones that God's Mercy is now and forever infinite beyond our comprehension.

In the midst of all of this, the weight of the burden of dissolution and death remains heavy on my shoulders, and I woke up with it this morning, anticipating a visit today both from those who are in dire health and those who are dying.

This is how we will begin the new year today; not only remembering those who have already died, but living face to face in relationship and love and faith with those who carry the seed of their own death so obviously within them—instead of just spending it with those of us, like myself, who do not have the crimson flag of death’s face planted in the front yard of their life at this very moment – even though perhaps there is one there that cannot be so easily seen… which is in truth ever the case, for all of us.

Just as I awoke this morning, having slept reasonably well, the weight of this burden blossomed in me, and I remembered at the same time the signs of hope and faith that have been given to me throughout this life, which is a Grace and a Blessing I all too often fail to give thanks for and do not appreciate enough.

I have seen the future on more than one occasion, clearly and with eyes open to its truth; this must seem impossible, yet it's true. This already proves that I, and all of mankind, understand almost nothing of what time is and the way it manifests, that our science completely misunderstands the nature of time itself and the relationship of our psyche to it.

I have been touched by the Virgin, and know that She is a real being; I thus call witness.

I have been transformed in ways that have no definition through light that has no material or earthly origin, and lifted up into realms that I do not understand and have, so far as I can see, earned no right to inhabit or participate in.

All this time I have carried the doubt which is both the curse of mankind and the greatest gift ever given to it, and been plagued with the desires and lust and fears—and pleasures—which are equally great burdens and blessings. And all this time I have been allowed to ask the strange, the beautiful, the miraculous and also the profane and destructive questions that can arise in a being in the midst of these tests of life and love and faith.

In summary, I have lived this life as a man or woman must live it,; for there is no other way.

I still do, for now; and I don't know what will come. But I have been given so many signs of hope and faith. So many signs. They speak of mysteries that we cannot and will not understand; they point a finger into ways we cannot see and paths we have not yet traveled.

This is where I am, as ever—on the edge of the unknown, with only the hope and the faith of God's light to shine into the darkness before me. God has sent enough signs; I should find peace enough in this to go forward into this new year knowing there things.

That blessings are real and true, that lives do not end, and that love cannot die.

All of these understandings, mysteries and conditions of unknowing are burdens that we are required to carry in the course of our life. As I recall the courage of those who are about to die around me, I am lifted up into God, who lives in the life of the heart and the life of the community. Perhaps these moments will give me more courage to be more loving, more in relationship, with those around me. These are areas which, no matter how much I work on, I see that I fail in again and again because of that fundamental selfishness that infects us all in one way or another.

And so today I go forth with the signs of hope and faith sent not only in the works and situations of the world and of the angels, but also witnessed in the hearts and minds of those others around me who have such great courage in the face of their own trials.

I wrote a personal ballad after Christmas to capture the poignancy of loss one so often feels around this time. It is a true Christmas song, but not one about frosty snowmen and jing-a-ling bells.

One might say, perhaps, that it is too depressing; but I think not, because it exerts a steadfast hope through witness. 

It can be heard at the below link. It's a bit raw, but it needs to be.

Blue Christmas

These are my thoughts for this morning. May the Lord be with you.