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Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Boys of the Lost and Found
1 Samuel 2:18-20,26; Luke 2:41-52
The familiar story of 12-year-old Jesus in the Temple marks a major turning point in his family's life. "Today," he might as well have said, "I am a [new] man." He knew now that God had a special hold on him. So now his mother had to let loose of her hold on his life. It's no accident that Luke patterns this story on the ancient one of Samuel and his mother Hannah. In each case, it's only by being willing to lose her greatest treasure that either mother could find the even greater gift God wanted so much to bestow.
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ALL'S LOST, ALL'S FOUND
Frederick Buechner's novel Godric* tells the story of an 11th century English saint who lived as a hermit on the shore of the River Wear, not far from the city of Durham.
The story is written as Godric's confessions, his asides to us who read today, in dark counterpoint to a sincere monk's efforts to collect the makings of an official "life of Godric" for the pious masses.
Godric will have none of that. He's determined we must know the real story of his many sins and shortcomings, which drove him to become a hermit in the first place.
To no avail, it seems. The monk refuses to believe anything but the best about wretched old Godric. And Godric's sordid stories eventually persuade the reader that only a true saint would be this hard on himself for such common human frailties.
Godric's other human companion at his ascetic riverside digs is a youth named Perkin, whom he loves like a favorite son. The boy waits on him hand and foot, 24/7, and joyfully tolerates all the old man's quirkiness.
Godric knows full well he has but a short time left to live. And he's pretty much ready to pass by now. He knows what he's lost in life, and also what he's found. Most of all, he knows whom he's found, who it is will welcome him on the other side of death.
Bathing in icy water drawn by Perkin from the river, Godric says a kind of prayer:
"'Praise, praise!' I croak. Praise God for all that's holy, cold, and dark. Praise him for all we lose, for all the river of years bears off. Praise him for stillness in the wake of pain. Praise him for emptiness. And as you race to spill into the sea, praise him yourself, old Wear. Praise him for dying and the peace of death.
"In the little church I built of wood for Mary, I hollowed out a place for him. Perkin brings him by the pail and pours him in. Now that I can hardly walk, I crawl to meet him there. He takes me in his chilly lap to wash me of my sins. Or I kneel down beside him till within his depths I see a star.
"Sometimes this star is still. Sometimes she dances. She is Mary's star. Within that little pool of Wear she winks at me. I wink at her. The secret that we share I cannot tell in full. But this much I will tell. What's lost is nothing to what's found, and all the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup."
And that is a law of life. Every one of us, religious or not, learns it over and over again. The one sure way to receive life's good gifts is to let go of what we're so afraid of losing. We're talking open hands either way.
Read Buechner's book when you can find a copy. Meanwhile, read the Luke and 1 Samuel stories listed above. Two mothers lost their boys to God, and found the world a better place by far because of what God did in and through them.
It's a law of life. What's lost is nothing to what's found!
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*Godric, 1980, Atheneum (available now from HarperCollins)
posted by Jack Buckley at
5:03 PM
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