Oh, Good Grief

I always, always want to make certain that I am honest with myself and with others about the realities of religious life as I am to live it and perpetually fall short, though can discern some measurable growth in a few areas after years of uneven practice.

Of all of the charges that can fairly be launched at any practitioner of religion the one that I hope to never be called is “holier than though.” Knowing a few things about theology has in no way assured me of any special divinity or outstanding character of my own soul. Rather, I am now more certain of the worth of all souls.

Most importantly, however, and the reason I felt compelled to write today is that I have learned so much better how to properly and rightly respond to the very personal triumphs and tribulations which make up a life – whether someone else’s or my own. That doesn’t mean that knowing, and being certain of a proper theological perspective, means I won’t sit in bed for two days watching court TV and Law & Order feeling numb. Yesterday I had every intention of going to class but it was as though my sadness and my attempts to process the reality of the severity of my grandma’s current prognosis rendered me into a state without temporality or gravity: the time just kept going as something prevented me from getting up. It was 2:30 this morning before I got around to taking a shower; the last time I had bothered was Tuesday. Holier than thou I am not; I am just like thee. I know a few things but just like anybody else there are some times that you can know cerebrally but still have to muddle through — and to be honest about it.


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