God works for good

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/040218.cfm
Acts 2:14, 22-23
Matthew 28:8-15

There was a time when the events of my life flowed in such a chaotic manner that I was comfortable asserting “there is no reason for anything.” Philosophically, the position is closely related to ‘absurdism.’ Absurdism is a philosophical perspective which holds that the efforts of humanity to find meaning or rational explanation in the universe ultimately fail (and, hence, are absurd) because no such meaning exists, at least to human beings. That intellectual stance didn’t stay with me long, though the circumstances or events which brought me to move on in my thinking elude me now

The successor to my dalliance with absurdism was relatively slow in taking shape and even slower to develop vibrant roots in my psyche. Still, with each passing year, the wellspring which fed it pulled the roots deeper until the position became ingrained in me as strongly as the perennial dandelion in the spring lawn.

The fervid search for meaning or rational explanation in the universe still eludes me; though I suppose it would be arrogant to claim otherwise. But that is no longer important in the current framework of my thought. Rather, there is a more consequential endeavor to actualized than that of seeking meaning or rational explanation. It is the one which has established itself so firmly in my perception of the universe. . . and my place in it. Paul states it succinctly:

We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

Such an outlook is not overly-burdened with meaning and reason, though that is not to dismiss either meaning or reason lightly. Rather, it is to acknowledge that surrender to the will of the Father, whether I understand it or not, has priority over all search for meaning. Further, it is an admission that my skillful attempts to expose either are inconsequential in view of the larger reality. The meaning for my life, like the meaning of the cosmos, lies in the Father’s will, and his alone. 

All this is offered as a necessary prelude, for it is important to understand that I have found the Spirit to speak in a variety of ways, always working to the good, and often without perceptible meaning. His persistence in instructing me has often taken the form of converging incidents. The events of living, the word of a friend — or a stranger, the memory of a poem, a song from my youth, a line from an actor, an unexpected visitor — and the list goes on. I have found the Spirit will use whatever is available to focus my attention on something He knows is important. Nothing happens by accident, or chance, or luck.

In everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose.

So it was that on Palm Sunday morning I found myself in a hospital bed with a pneumonia of unknown origin. No pain, just heavily labored breathing from lungs clogged with fluid (and something else which the doctors didn’t recognize). The meaning of suffocation was never so real. No known affliction, just a body battered by an inflammation perniciously sapping energy and denying oxygen. In those circumstances, at that particular time of year, how can your attention not be focused on the passion of Our Lord.

The hours can be long in a hospital stay, especially when you are conscious of trying to stay conscious. You turn to whatever is available to distract you from the tedious business of being ill, trying to ignore the discomforting symptoms that persist. The mind-numbing programs on TV were one such source of distraction; and, in the course of selecting the best from the worst available, I heard the screen actors in an often repeated, cliche of a scene, proclaiming with great philosophical wisdom: “Everybody dies! Sooner or later, everybody dies!” The words were offered as having majestic, pragmatic authority — and then the actors moved on to wallow in their sophistry. 

This was Holy Week; and, while Jesus’s death could not be ignored, the events of Sunday morning persisted on the horizon. And so, in this peculiar context of exhaustion and suffocation while remembering Jesus’ own exhaustion and suffocation, the insidious and seemingly mundane injunction “Everybody dies!” was revealed for the lie that it is.

I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the LORD. (Psalm 118:17)