A
Story of Love
--- makes one Ponder about Life ! ----
Some twelve years
ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our
first session in the Theology of Faith. That was the day I first saw Tommy. He
was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his
shoulders. It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that
long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind
that it isn't what's on your head but what's in it that counts; but on that
day. I was unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately filed Tommy
under "S" for strange... Very strange.
Tommy turned out to
be the "atheist in residence" in my Theology of Faith
course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the
possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other
in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a
serious pain on the back pew. When he came up at the end of the course to turn
in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone, "Do you think I'll ever
find God?" I decided instantly on a little shock therapy.
"No!" I said very emphatically. "Why not," he responded, "I
thought that was the product you were pushing."
I let him get five
steps from the classroom door and then I called out, "Tommy! I don't think
you'll ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you!"
He shrugged a little and left my class and my life. I felt slightly
disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line -- He will find
you! At least I thought it was clever.
Later I heard that
Tommy had graduated, and I was duly grateful. Then a sad report came. I
heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to
see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted and the
long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were
bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I remember.
"Tommy, I've
thought about you so often; I hear you are sick," I blurted out.
"Oh, yes, very
sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It's a matter of weeks."
"Can you talk
about it, Tom?" I asked.
"Sure, what
would you like to know?" he replied.
"What's it like
to be only twenty-four and dying?
"Well, it could
be worse.
"Like what?, I
asked.
"Well, like
being fifty and having no values or ideals, like being fifty and thinking that
booze, seducing women, and making money are the real biggies in life.
I began to look
through my mental file cabinet under "S" where I had filed Tommy as
strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God
sends back into my life to educate me.)
"But what I
really came to see you about," Tom said, "is something you said to me
on the last day of class." ( He remembered!) He continued, "I asked
you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, 'No!' which surprised
me. Then you said, 'But He will find you. I thought about that a lot, even
though my search for God was hardly intense at that time. (My clever line. He
thought about that a lot!) "But when the doctors removed a lump from my
groin and told me that it was malignant, that's when I got serious about
locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really
began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven. But God
did not come out. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a
long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically
glutted, fed up with trying. And then you quit.
"Well, one day I
woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick
wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit. I decided that I
didn't really care about God, about an afterlife, or anything like that. I decided
to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about
you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: 'The essential
sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally
sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you
loved that you had loved them.
"So, I began
with the hardest one, my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached
him. "Dad. "
" Yes,
what?" he asked without lowering the newspaper..
"Dad, I would
like to talk with you."
"Well, talk!
"I mean. It's
really important."
The newspaper came
down three slow inches. "What is it?"
"Dad, I love
you, I just wanted you to know that."
Tom smiled at me and
said it with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy
flowing inside of him.
The newspaper
fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember
him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night, even
though he had to go to work the next morning. "
It felt so good to be
close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he
loved me "It was easier with my mother and little brother.
They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice
things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so
many years. " "I was only sorry about one thing --- that
I had waited so long."
"Here I was,
just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close
to. "Then, one day I turned around and God was there.
"He didn't come
to me when I pleaded with Him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out
a hoop, 'C'mon, jump through. C'mon, I'll give you three days, three weeks.
"
Apparently God does
things in His own way and at His own hour. " But the important thing is
that He was there. He found me! You were right. He found me even after I
stopped looking for Him. "
"Tommy," I
practically gasped, "I think you are saying something very important and
much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the
surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem
solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to
LOVE.
You know, the Apostle
John said that. He said: 'God is love, and anyone who lives in LOVE is living
with God and GOD is living in him.
"Tom , could I
ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But
(laughingly) you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present
Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told
them the same thing it wouldn't be half as effective as if you were to tell it.
"Oooh.. I was
ready for you, but I don't know if I'm ready for your class."
"Tom, think
about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call."
In a few days Tom
called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and
for me.. So we scheduled a date.
However, he never
made it. He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me
and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only
changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life
far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever
heard or the mind of man has ever imagined.
Before he died, we
talked one last time.
"I'm not going
to make it to your class," he said.
"I know,
Tom."
"Will you tell
them for me? Will you...tell the whole world for me?"
I will, Tom. I'll
tell them. I'll do my best."
So, to all of you who
have been kind enough to read this simple story about God's love, thank you for
listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven
--- I told them, Tommy, as best I could. If this story means anything to
you, please pass it on to a friend or two.
It is a true story
and is not enhanced for publicity purpose.
With thanks,
Rev. John Powell,
Professor, Loyola
University , Chicago
No comments:
Post a Comment