a Question for the Day
One of the sites I visit most days is Gratefulness.org. A nonprofit that encourages persons to find, experience, and share gratitude. It offers many ways for a person to be intentional in thinking about and even practicing gratitude. I’ve determined that as often as possible, I will post my answer for the daily question. To begin, I’m choosing a question that is from last week, but is relevant to my experience of late.
Who has passed from your life and left you more grateful for knowing them?
There is a long list of persons that I could name in answering this question. You probably have a similar experience. People pass from this life to the next reality through violent action and in peace hourly. Some unexpected and sudden. Others linger and struggle. Unlike many clergy, I’ve never been a witness to a person’s death. That moment when the residue of the divine is released, not from a captive state, but from this experience of living however short or long. Released as if abandoning a body that can no longer sustain life back into the essence of creation that cannot be seen, but is trusted to be there. Believed to be there in some form no matter the religion one practices or philosophy one follows. And in those moments when life departs it is hard for the living to embrace the promises of God, by whatever name you call God, or be as full of the Force as Yoda, “Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not. Miss them do not. Attachment leads to jealously. The shadow of greed, that is.” We mourn and grieve. The promises of God comfort through the response of those still living with us and around us. But the work of grief is ours alone.
When I was in seminary, Dr. William Baird taught New Testament and Greek. Though my native language I often struggle with the written form of English. Grammar was not my best subject prior to college and seminary. Had I only paid more attention diagraming sentences in junior high or high school, learning to read and translate ancient Greek may have come much easier. I had the opportunity to study with these two men who loved the text and teaching others to find their own love, or at least respect, for the ancient Greek from which we make and take our translations of the New Testament. They both had the hardest time telling a student a translation of a word or passage was wrong. “That’s not quite right Mr. Davison. Almost. Try again. What does that verb form tell you about the sentence? What does the context of the passage tell you about that word and it’s meaning? Try again.” Memory work was important to success and I did enough to do “C” and sometimes “B” work for these masters of ancient Greek. I appreciated their patience and steady encouragement, but the practice and work was mine to do, daily.
Some years after seminary my companion and I saw Dr. Baird at a conference. He had retired from active teaching. Same smile and tone as he greeted us. In the conversation we asked what he was doing in retirement. He mentioned projects and books. “I rise early each morning and spend an hour translating the text. There is still so much to learn.” Dr. Baird loved his God. Dr. Baird loved the Church that invited people into the journey of following Jesus and wrestling with stories about his life and the stories of those who, after the time of Jesus, struggled with Jesus and proclaimed him as Christ. Dr. Baird loved the ancient text and respected it like it was a living being. He couldn’t give that love of the text to his students, but he set for us an example.