HOW THE LIGHT GETS IN [M, 3-17-25]

BEYOND WINTER: The Irrelevant Memories of An Old Man—HOW THE LIGHT GETS IN [M, 3-17-25]

“He always wanted to do the right thing.” That’s how I started my sermon at Chad’s funeral. [Not his real name]

I didn’t actually realize until then that it was true. It often seemed that he wanted to anything except the right thing. I had known him several years, from not long after he’d been adopted. He was the reason some folks shook their heads sadly and knowingly and said, “You just don’t know what you’ll get with an adopted kid.”

I always replied, “You never know what you’ll get with any kid.”

But I knew that Chad was a different problem. He was smart enough; that wasn’t the problem. He had loving and supportive parents; that wasn’t the problem. He had the “right” color; that wasn’t the problem.

He was just uncomfortable in his own skin; that was the problem.

I spent a lot of time listening to his parents. I spent a lot of time listening to him. I also spent too much time telling his parents what to do. And too much time telling Chad what to do. No, I wasn’t “judgy,” and I did not promote simplistic slogans, like “You need to be patient,” or “Just think before you act.” But advice wasn’t really what was needed. The problem was, neither I, nor anybody else, including a succession of psychologists, knew what was wrong; that was the problem.

Finally, beyond high school, beyond community college, he just spiraled down. Arrested on theft charges, unwilling to ask his parents for bail, unwilling even to let them know he was in jail, he committed suicide.

As I thought about him, all I knew about him, all those hours of talking, I realized the problem: He always wanted to do the right thing.

Okay. That wasn’t exactly the problem. I think the gap was the problem. If he hadn’t wanted to do right, maybe the failure wouldn’t have gnawed at him so.

Always, Christian faith is about closing the gap. We call it at-one-ment.

That’s especially true in Lent, as we prepare for Easter. Our Lenten disciplines and devotions are meant not to make us satisfied, because we are true to doing spiritual duties, but to open us up so that we are true to our real selves, the ones with the gaps.

The first step is to accept the gap and admit to God that it is there. That is the start of at-one-ment, the start of closing the gap. Then let God lead you where you need to go.

As Leonard Cohen sang: “There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”

 

John Robert McFarland