For Nora

“And in this he showed me a little thing, the quantity of a hazel nut, lying in the palm of my hand, as it seemed. And it was as round as any ball. I looked upon it with the eye of my understanding, and thought, ‘What may this be?’ And it was answered generally thus, ‘It is all that is made.’ I marveled how it might last, for I thought it might suddenly have fallen to nothing for littleness. And I was answered in my understanding: It lasts and ever shall, for God loves it. And so have all things their beginning by the love of God.

In this little thing I saw three properties. The first is that God made it. The second that God loves it. And the third, that God keeps it.”

-Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love

Matt Helm is a well known knife maker and designer from Texas. His designs are often produced in collaboration with Dauntless Manufacturing. Dauntless Manufacturing has also partnered with Wolf Forty to produce the SEAF, a knife that I own and have previously reviewed. However, knives are not the motivating factor in this write-up. This past December, Matt lost his two year old daughter, Eleanor, to RSV and Pneumonia.

I cannot tell you why little Eleanor’s death has affected me so. I don’t know Matt personally. And, I only learned of Eleanor through Matt’s Instagram posts sharing her ordeal in mid-December. But, both Eleanor and Matt’s response to her illness have stirred in me profound reflection and subsequently an immense enrichment of faith. Consequently, I want to share my thoughts on Eleanor, Matt, and the sacredness of suffering.

It is natural to wonder why God would permit such a thing. Where was He while little Eleanor was suffering in the hospital? And, not only in the hospital, but in all of her days prior as Eleanor also suffered from epilepsy? Where was He while Matt sat bedside, bible in hand, praying for improvement? For Matt and his family to then have Eleanor taken away during Christmastide, where was He? And, what terrible irony. Sadness, anger, and resentment are the natural response. While Matt may be feeling all of that now, in the midst of his daughter’s suffering he deliberately chose to responded differently. “Our burden is light,” he shared.

As a Catholic, I would argue that as Eleanor passed away, God was in the same place He was when He watched His own son die. God did not kill Eleanor, nor was God absent. You see, death is a peculiar thing. It is incompatible with God. God does not want to see us die and He would be the first to acknowledge that death is a terrible thing. And, while death is all but certain and natural to our world, it remains unnatural to us. Why might that be?

If you take a moment to ponder on the spiritual significance of the story of Adam and Eve, you will realize that we were not meant to be as intimate with God as we are now. Adam and Eve were made in the image of God. They were meant to tend to the Garden and hold dominion over the Earth. When Adam and Eve ate of the tree all of that changed. What was given to them was lost. And, they were sent out to lead lives of hardship. Experiencing death was one of many hardships. While the story of Adam and Eve is allegorical, history provides God’s answer to our sin and to our death. God’s response is to die Himself.

If it weren’t for sin, Christ would not have become one of us. In becoming human, Christ makes us more Holy. And, it is through Christ’s sacrifice that we are allowed to participate in the Holy Trinity. Despite what Adam and Eve lost, God’s offer to them is elevated in Christ. Through our suffering we are rewarded and brought closer to God. Every pain we have is Christ’s pain, and every pain of Christ is our pain.  Therefore, when you encounter suffering, you can’t just stop at saying, “What a terrible thing.” It is a terrible thing with incredible meaning.

So, let’s ask ourselves those questions again. Where was God while little Eleanor was suffering in the hospital? He was on the cross. Where was He while Matt sat bedside praying for his daughter? He too was watching His child, Jesus Christ, die. Why Christmas? What better time is there to enter our Father’s arms? You see, the death of Eleanor is the death of Christ. We die with Eleanor, Eleanor dies with Christ, and Christ dies with us.  We all die together and we wake up in our Father’s arms.

Blessed are we all to wake up as happy thieves in paradise.

I would like to ask you to pray for the Helm family. I also want to inform you that Dauntless Manufacturing is holding a raffle for Matt Helm and his family. The hope is to cover the cost of incurred medical expenses and all other related expenses for the family. the drawing is tomorrow, January 20th. There have been other knife & tool makers that have made generous material donations. These donations have been added to the prize pot. I implore you to buy a ticket.

God bless!

“There is a place called ‘heaven’ where the good here unfinished is completed; and where the stories unwritten, and the hopes unfulfilled, are continued. We may laugh together yet.”

- J. R. R. Tolkien, Letter to his son, Michael

Death

 
“Mom says death is as natural as birth, and it’s all part of the life cycle.
She says we don’t really understand it, but there are many things we don’t understand, and we just have to do the best we can with the knowledge we have.

I guess that makes sense.”
— Bill Watterson, Calvin & Hobbes, #2

On Friday, June 9th, my father-in-law passed away. His name was John. He had been ill for many years, and was cared for by his wife and children. In the weeks leading up to his death, I had been thinking of John and his wife. I thought of his struggles and her monumental efforts. In my contemplation, I kept returning to a line from Paul’s Second Epistle to Timothy. Just before Paul mentions finishing the race, he says, “I have been poured out like a drink offering.” Biblically, this line served as an allusion to offerings of wine that had to accompany every sacrifice under the old covenant. An offering was not considered complete until the drink offering was given. In my regard, John was poured out like drink offering. And, so was his wife. What a sight that was to see. While I’m sure it is now difficult for his wife and children to see past the misery of the last five years, as a witness I can only testify to the beauty of it all.

Death provides the greatest spiritual healing we can receive, not only for the one dying but for those who are closest as well. I saw God at work in the worst of it all. I saw His work again in a conversation between John’s children on the night of his burial. The experience of their father’s illness, deterioration, and death somehow served to filter their souls. It allowed them to let go of all the grievances and resentments they held on to about their father. It revealed and elevated the love they had for him, that was buried under years of weighted baggage. I have not seen them as close or as unified as they are now.

A week after John’s death, his wife sent me an article regarding a short story I shared with her a number of years ago. Her timing imparted holy bliss. The short story in question was, “Leaf by Niggle,” written by J. R. R. Tolkien. It’s about a man who, like most, is not prepared for his own death. Niggle, an artist, spends much of his life focused on a painting of a tree that he never finishes. He often procrastinates and ignores his other duties. Upon his death, he finds himself in an institution where he is assigned never ending tasks. In this purgatorial environment, and over an unknown period of time, he learns to embrace humility. He eventually moves on to the, “next stage,” where he is brought to a field. He quickly realizes it is the land of his painting. He sees the tree he spent much of his life painting fully manifested. He sees the forests and mountains in the distance. Overjoyed, he begins to cultivate the land. And, after he finishes his work, he decides to walk and press onward toward the mountains. The mountains serving as a biblical image of man ascending to communion with God.

Like Niggle, John was prone to neglect duties that weren’t of his own parochial concern. As a lawyer, he excelled and helped others with a moral fortitude I have yet to see in anyone else. He was a gatherer. He was full of wit and had a sense of humor most men would envy. However, as a husband and father, he struggled to fulfill more meaningful obligations. In spite of this failing, this man who was bedridden and without faculty, was at the height of his power. Through his suffering, his family has been healed. The bitterness has settled. I am confident that he is now walking toward those mountains, and that he is bound for glory. We can only hope to follow him.

“For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.”
— Paul, 2 Timothy 4: 6-8

Red Team Theories - Suffering

Suffering exists for the good of man.

2020 has been an extraordinarily awful year. I’m certain I don’t have to go into great detail, but with disease, riots, and unjust killings in mind, I’d like to quickly expound on the embracement of suffering, mentioned in The Theory of Red Teaming - A Call to Action. The existence of suffering is often used to question the existence of God. It is probably the best logical argument one can make. Why would a god that is, “good,” permit such a thing? Life is filled with tragedy and with what can be perceived as senseless suffering. Illness, terrorism, war, poverty, and the simple fact that at some point we will all die makes it exceedingly difficult to think otherwise. Now, I say this not to make a religious argument, but I would like to point out one simple fact. God does not promise you a life free of pain.

Pain and suffering will come knocking at your door when you least expect it. If it hasn’t yet, then just wait. If you are not going through it now, I am sure you know someone that is. Often, when it finds us, we’re unprepared for it. Suffering imminently reminds us of the imperfections of this world. However, there is a peculiar thing that happens that often goes unnoticed. Something good is also brought forth. You see, people make the mistake of isolating suffering. They box themselves into it and focus on the pain. But, if you closely examine the ripples of suffering, you will realize that it does not have a determined end. Suffering is something with which we get to choose what to do with it. Suffering compels a choice.

It is, in fact, human beings that are what gives things sense and reason. As my father-in-law slowly succumbs to Lewy Body Dementia, early in his years, the experience for his wife and children has been painful, fatiguing, and emotionally despairing. While he wasn’t particularly close with his children, I have watched each of them come to terms with old wounds. They have come to reconcile, and in some respects forgive their father. Each of them has made a concerted effort to be home and to help care for him. I have witnessed his wife, with firm resolve, put her husband before herself in all things. And, while many tears have been shed, I consider this to be a moment of glory for this family. The siblings have grown closer together than they ever have been, and they have come to know their parents in ways they never did before. They have grown personally, emotionally, and spiritually. And, this ordeal has grounded in them the importance of faith, love and family.

In the moment, yes, suffering is awful. But, what is good doesn’t have to, “feel,” good. Understand this. Suffering is a transformative force. It serves to provide us with an opportunity to change the world. The sense in suffering comes in what we choose to do with it. In nature, is this not what we see? Consider the many forest fires that have ravaged our country over the last twenty years. All we see on the news is the devastation. But, thanks to evolution, plants and animals in fire prone areas often rebound vibrantly. Grasslands rapidly regenerate providing food and easy pickings for local wildlife. These fires, while devastating, also allow for new long term life. Evolution and adaptation are the outgrowth of affliction and destruction.

To understand and see the good in suffering, you must widen your scope. The danger of linear thinking is always the starting point. Anything worth it’s salt requires sacrifice. Be it physical fitness or a proper education, it all requires sacrifice. No successful business was ever built without someone suffering for it. We bargain with the present to attain something in the future. While this is voluntary suffering, the same rules apply to involuntary suffering. Something good can and will be attained if you look for it. Understand that suffering invariably makes the world a better place. So, do not expect to live your life in a pain moratorium. Summon your grit, find your steel, and bleed willingly. To create a world where there is no suffering is to create a world that is doomed to die.

“I did not find the front-line trenches or the C.C.S. [Casualty Clearing Station] more full than any other place of hatred, selfishness, rebellion, and dishonesty. I have seen great beauty of spirit in some who were greater sufferers. I have seen men, for the most part, grow better not worse with advancing years, and I have seen the last illness produce treasures of fortitude and meekness from most unpromising subjects.”

- C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain