An old friend died yesterday. A brilliant, amusing man, full of ideas and enterprise, a distinguished scholar, an entrepreneur, a good father, good husband, good friend, fit & abstemious. And barely 60.
I suppose he had some faults, but I can’t recall what they were.
In my rage and sorrow, I said, “And all those useless people who will live to 90!” And was ticked off by the family for saying the unsayable. But was unrepentant.
But we all think it. A premature death floods us with a terrible sense of waste, and anger at God, or the gods, or life in general.
It makes us doubt all the plans we have laid for the future. It makes us question the achievements and pleasures of the past. Were they all in vain, our good times past, our good times promised?
What was it all for?
What indeed.
Our faith teaches us to take the long view; to believe that goodness, integrity, enterprise and love – and humour - persist, not just over the decades, but through eternity. My faith assures me that personality and achievements will live on, not just in the minds of those who remember and love, but objectively, in the universe, seen and unseen.
What evidence do I have of this?
None. None you could grasp, touch or prove. Faith, like love, is invisible and intangible. But all of us believe in love.
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