Acceptance

Theologians talk about a prevenient grace that precedes grace itself and allows us to accept it. I think there must also be a prevenient courage that allows us to be brave—that is, to acknowledge that there is more beauty than our eyes can bear, that precious things have been put into our hands and to do nothing to honor them is to do great harm. And therefore, this courage allows us, as the old men said, to make ourselves useful. It allows us to be generous, which is another way of saying exactly the same thing.

From Marilynne Robinson, Gilead, p. 246

Yesterday I enjoyed a visit from Lad Anderson. I have asked Lad to preach at my Celebration of Life service and I am grateful that he has agreed to do so. Conversations with Lad are always substantial, moving below the surface of things to probe meanings.

One of the questions he raised was related to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' identification of five stages of response top terminal illness. They are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, Lad noted that I don't seem to be moving among these categories, but seem to have begun with acceptance. Of course, later studies indicate that the five stages are metaphors which apply to some people and not to others.

I confess that this is something of a wonder and mystery to me and I have thought a good deal about acceptnce. I have sometimes attributed it to a lifetime of participation in the community of faith which must have taught me something about the grace and support of God. Other times it seems to me that it is your prayers which provide that surprising cushion of peace.

Marilynne Robinson's Pulitzer Prize winning novel Gilead was recommended to me by Sherri Winans and I have just completed it.

The novel is a letter written by The Rev. John Ames in 1956 to his seven year old son. Ames is in his seventies and near death from heart failure. He wants his son, when he is mature, to have an account of his life. I found it easy to live within the experience of this gracious and very thoughtful minister. While thoroughly Christian he is also reflective and respectful of other faiths and no faith.

The passage above contains some of his final reflections, working out a theological possibility for courage and a sense of wonder at the mystery and transience of creation. John Ames sees beyond sight and draws strength from a tradition he knows is flawed. It is that mystery which nurtures preachers and comforts people of faith.