Can These Bones Live? (continued)

Rev. Dr. William F. Schulz

August 5, 2007

I know no better example of doing that than a little story told by Richard Selzer, a medical doctor, a surgeon.

“I stand by the bed where a young woman lies.,” writes selzer. “Her mouth is twisted in palsy. In order to remove the tumor in her cheek, I had had to cut the little nerve.”

“Her young husband is in the room and together they seem to dwell in the evening lamplight, isolated from me, private.”

“All at once the young woman speaks, ‘Will my mouth always be like this?’ she asks. ‘Yes,’ I say, ‘It will. It is because the nerve was cut.’ She nods and is silent but the young man speaks. ‘I like it,’ he says. ‘It is kind of cute.’”

“Unmindful of me, he bends to kiss her crooked mouth and I am so close to them I see how he twists his own mouth to accommodate to hers, to show her that their kiss still works. I remember that the gods appeared in ancient Greece as mortals and I pause to let the wonder in.”

“I will put my spirit in you,” says Ezekiel, “and you will live.”

And then it is also true that every single one of us, at one time or another, reflecting upon the lives we have lived, asks ourselves whether what we have done with our lives has been worthy of our aspirations, whether our stories are worth passing on to the next generation, whether our journeys will in any sense escape the dark whole of time. "Can these bones live?" Now some of us of course are fortunate enough to have received a measure of the world's acclaim. Because Amnesty International's headquarters are in London, I was often in that city and, whenever was, I bought the London Times. I don’t like the London times—it is owned, after all, by Rupert Murdoch—andv I never agree with its editorials but I buy The London Times just to read the obituaries because its obituaries always captrure the very essence of their subjects in a very few words. On February 12, 1994, for example, Sir Vincent Wigglesworth died at age 94. The Times described him as "one of the outstanding biologists of his time" and "a man of exceptional singleness of purpose." Sir Vincent, it seems, was the world's greatest expert on insect excretia and the Times quoted him as saying shortly before his death, "I chose to work on insect excretion for 66 years and that has made all the difference." And yet, acclaimed as Sir Vincent be, he too is down to dust.

What this means, I think, is that we ought to value our lives not by the legacies we leave for they will inevitably be forgotten; not by the tasks we accomplish for they will eventually fade away; not by the wealth we accumulate or the honors but by the measure with which we live with integrity and tenderness, giving ourselves to the world and spending ourselves for others. “I will settle you on your own soil,” says Isaiah. I will, in other words, give you something larger than yourselves to which to devote your lives. And that is the second way I know that we can be saved from the dark hole of time: by giving ourselves to a larger creation, to a larger love: to a cause, to an institution, to another person, to a garden The most important thing is not that we be well known but that we be known well; not that we gather riches but that, in the words of Wendell Berry, we "work and rest kindly in the presence of the world."

Some years ago Ed Bradley of “60 Minutes” visited the Vietnam Memorial in Washington to do a story and found a note propped up against that long, black wall. This is what the note said,

Hi, lover. I came back to say hello. I went ahead and married Dick and we have a wonderful little girl. Her favorite color is purple, the color of this stationery. I went to Arlington National Cemetery to see your grave and on it it said you got a purple heart for dying. Well, this is your purple heart for having lived. I hope our daughter has as beautiful and as wonderful a first love for her as you were for me. Goodbye. Hello. Nancy.

Every human being in the world deserves the opportunity to earn a purple heart for living. Nancy gave her lover one, gave his life a larger purpose, even after he had lost it. You can never tell when small gesture, some casual kindness, some licked envelope or some sent email may change the word or at least another person’s life, may make even the dry bones live.

"Can these bones live?" "I will put my spirit in you;” I will offer you the opportunity to live a life of glory. “And I will settle you on your soil;" I will offer you a life which is larger than your own.

Spirituality, moral responsibility, humaneness and humility--are these indeed what rescue our deeds from the dark hole of time? Every single one of us of course will slip eventually into that dark hole but to have lived with attentiveness and passion, loving and gladdening the hearts of others, having given oneself to a larger purpose, working and resting kindly in the presence of the world, will be to slip into it not with fear and trembling--not with that; not with regret or rage--not with that--but with trust and calm and gratitude, loving even the depths, embracing the clean, still darkness, and knowing that, thanks to lives well spent, even the dry bones live; that even the dry bones live!