Love can bear temporary loss, but hearts break when the loss is final. And just like the disciples in this week’s Gospel, we are not very good at endings. Yet, Jesus, seems to think that the ending has been there since the beginning, and that every ending is a new beginning. He talks of secrets hidden in the heart of death and of how His nearness to His Father in Heaven allows Him to be near to us. For Jesus, the Fathers embrace is as wide as the universe, and in Love’s House, it seems, that there is room enough.
There is a love that has no regrets. There is a love that loves to breaking point. But here’s the thing – there is a love that is without end. We touch this huge love when we are in the presence of Jesus and His Father. It changes us.
The Poet and Scholar, John O’Donoghue, wrote this Blessing ‘for death‘ in his book,
Benedictus p88. Read it. Pray with it. Enjoy it:
From the moment you were born, your death has walked beside you.
Though it seldom shows its face, you still feel its empty touch when fear invades your life, or what you love is lost, or inner damage is incurred.
Yet, when destiny draws you into these spaces of poverty, and your heart stays generous until some door opens into the light, you are quietly befriending your death; so that you will have no need to fear when your time comes to turn and leave.
That the silent presence of your death would call your life to attention, wake you up to how scarce your time is and to the urgency to become free and equal to the call of your destiny.
That you would gather yourself and decide carefully how you now can live the life you would love to look back on from your deathbed.
