"How is one to lead a moral and compassionate existence when one is fully aware of the blood, the horror inherent in life, when one finds darkness not only in one's culture, but within oneself?
If there is a stage at which an individual life truly becomes adult, it must be when one grasps the irony in its unfolding and accepts responsibility for a life lived in the midst of such paradox.
There are simply no answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light. Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams
I was born and raised a Catholic Christian, attended Mass on a regular basis throughout my life, raised my own children Catholic, sent them to parochial schools, studied at a small Catholic college, and worked for several years as a parish director of religious education. I even had the honor of attending a seminar program held by some of the most celebrated moral ethicists in the contemporary Catholic Church.
So you'd think I'd have a fairly thorough understanding of what it means to be a Christian, from a behavioral standpoint.
In my last post, I wrote that during my time of crisis, I looked for help, but found little offered. By help, I mean compassion and understanding, the proverbial shoulder to cry on. I wasn't expecting, nor was I asking for someone to solve my problems. I just needed a little relief from treading water now and then.
I was, and continue to be eternally grateful to the handful of souls that did in fact come to my rescue. Ironically, those that did so were not the strongest swimmers, or the bravest of those that stood on the shore.
For the most part, it was the battered survivors of previous storms, victims of earlier shipwrecks, some still wading in waist deep water themselves, that threw me a line, or swam out to tread water beside me.
I've asked myself why? To idly sit on a beach and watch as somebody sputters and flails in the waves a few yards off-shore, without even running for help, is reprehensible. Yet it happens every day, on some sandy slip, in some dark little corner of the world. Self-absorbed people watch, as somebody drowns.
Another paradox. Another unanswerable question. Accepting that its simply so, will have to be enough.