Why, God?
The dreaded question, for a priest.
For anyone.
At Christmas.
Anytime.
Maureen Dowd cites the wisdom of another priest, called to the side of a friend, at a time of death. Published on Christmas Day in The New York Times, it is an honest statement of human and priestly integrity. You can read it here.
The question has special poignancy for me since my dad died at Christmas when I was a child, since Newtown, since the ambush on Christmas Eve. So I too ask this ancient question;
Why?
Why indeed?
Why my dad's death at Christmas,
When I was a boy 8 years old.
Why?
Good Friday when I was a boy.
Why do you call this day "Good"?
To the child in a cattle shed,
Poor and homeless
The unwed mother
The man on the cross.
The empty tomb
The panic
The running away
The abandonment
But for the women
Who went to the tomb
With spices
He is not here
Surprise?
That's the answer?
He is not here?
The Resurrection???
A surprise answer if ever there is one!
I'm afraid my faith must rest on that for a while.
Until my own time
Not the fear,
But the Cheer of the Child
The dreadful courage of the cross
The defeat of death
The final answer?
Until the surprise?
Fr Paul
