Jean and I just returned to Madison from an early Christmas celebration in Boston with Rebecca and Dan, our daughter and son-in-law. Son, Timothy, drove up from New York City to be with us as well. Even as I enjoyed the time with our children, I experienced a strange sense of impending loss. I knew that we would soon be apart again because Madison is a long way from Boston and New York City.
During our visit, Dan's dad shared a quote with me from Dietrich Bonhoeffer that helped me understand these feelings. Bonhoeffer said, “God doesn’t fill the gaps, but, on the contrary, he keeps them empty, and so helps us keep alive our communion with each other, even at the expense of pain.”
Bonhoeffer nailed it for me. Even when I was with those I loved, I was aware that soon, we would not be together. We would be separated by the twelve hundred mile gap between our homes. I was also aware that I was separated in time from those who had died – my parents, Jean's parents, a brother, a nephew, a dear friend and many others.
Bonhoeffer's words helped me appreciate this Christmas in a different way. All of our times together are tinged with an aura of empty gaps, of past and future losses. Our times together are transient by their very nature. Even our lives are transient. This year I am less concerned with giving or receiving that perfect gift, even though I love to give and receive gifts. I am less concerned that every interaction be Brady Bunch perfect. I really want to experience each moment as it comes.
I also want to stay connected with those who are no longer living. During my walk this morning I reviewed Christmases past. I smiled as I remembered the year my mother gave me my Lionel train set. My uncle had mounted the tracks on a piece of plywood set up on saw horses in the basement. It was the most wonderful gift I could imagine. I thought of the gatherings with aunts and uncles and cousins where Santa Clause visited our house and brought us presents. I still remember the sound of the reindeer hooves on the roof. I also remember the Christmas we got the call that my mother had had a heart attack while shoveling her sidewalk. We dropped everything and drove the three and a half hours to be with her.
For me, this is all related to living with Soul. It's a deeper kind of living - living with fewer false fronts and pretenses, living into my true essence. There is an honesty in this type of living that allows me to face my limitations and vulnerabilities. This honesty also allows me to accept the faults and foibles of others because I don't want to see their pretenses. I want to know them as they really are.
Bonhoeffer is right. It's painful to live in the unfilled gaps of time and space. He is also right in saying that living with the pain of the gaps helps us keep alive our communion with each other, our connectedness.
I wish you a joyful holiday season as you experience the pain of loss and the joy of connectedness.
