Not in a nonchalant way. Not in the way that the simple
phrase, “I’ll see you later,” tries to ease loneliness.
When we were young. |
Along the Camino the albergues and hostels that I’ve stayed in all have single beds. I’m glad of that, because I know that if I were in a large bed, I would reach over to feel if she were there. And in doing so, I would feel her absence even more.
I can’t account for it but my mind turns toward my parishioners. I’m thinking of the men and women who have lived faithfully for decades with the love of their lives. Spouses, the woman or the man that they loved and cherished and cared for in sickness and in health, and now for some their love has gone on to heaven. And for the first time in decades they’re not just alone. They’re alone with the reality that the most intimate human relationship they have had, here in this life, has changed.
For most of them, if not all, their faith lets them know
that they would see their love again.
And they live on.
My current situation is not the same. Because I know that, barring some
catastrophic occurrence, I will see my love again in this world.
But this extended time away seems to make the days and
nights longer by her absence, and it gives me the smallest glimpse at what my
friends feel, just a glimpse. It makes
me love them more because of their suffering.
Not out of pity, but out of empathy.
And I have no idea how it really feels.
And it makes me love her more even though she’s just out of reach.
But there is hope given to us in our faith. A guarantee that we will see those we love
again in a perfected state. Jesus taught
that we’re not given in marriage in the next life, that marriage is an
institution for this world. But there is
a love that is an extension of the love we share today. And when we pass through the glass dimly seen
that love will be better than the one that we have today.
The love we share today is only a glimpse into the Fullness
of Love that will exceed our understanding in this world.
And so we live in the hope of the reality that Love
transcends death and that our relationships of love continue through the veil
in a way that is better. It may not feel better, but our faith tells us that
it is better. And perhaps with time as
we cling closer to God and these assurance we will feel that to be true.
God’s desire for us is to love and trust him. When we are separated from the things in this
world that we care mostly about, then we cling to him for his assurances more
than anyone else or any other thing.
This is why Christian marriage
is best understood as indelible. The covenant
relationship entered into (in this world) is a model for the eternal
relationship between Christ and the Church his bride. How can Christ be separated from his
bride? It’s not possible. And so as the vows say, “…till death do us
part.” I understand this has proven impossible for some, but with God, "...all things are possible."
In the end, when our relationship with God is confirmed,
there is no end. In fact if you believe
in the Communion of Saints (I do) then your relationships within the body of
Christ only grow, become holier, and perfected in the agape love of God.
The impetus then is for us to begin loving that way now, not
waiting for the right time or place…or death.
But to begin loving God, neighbor, spouse, children with a love that is
something like Jesus’ love.
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