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I wanted to share with you some lovely news I received yesterday morning following an MRI last week: My brain tumors do not show further growth since the last MRI. The inflammation in the area of the surgery seems diminished. The treatment is working as they hoped. I mean, the little buggers are still hanging out there and likely will be for the rest of my life, but they are not giving me any big problems at present. I’ll have another MRI in two more months. Thank you for all of your prayers!
The hard news is that I started a higher dose of chemo on Monday night and—wow—did it make me sick. So the doctor and I talked about a different anti-nausea prescription coupled with a new timing of the medications and that is already helping. I thanked her for helping me think through this whole complicated re-arrangement of medicines. “Of course,” she said, “we want you to live as good of a life as possible.”
As good of a life as possible.
It is an idea I’ve been thinking about a lot of late. What makes for as good a life as possible? Certainly, absence of nausea is a non-negotiable in my book. But the Bible suggests a bit more than that.
Last week in the daily lectionary, we heard the story of King David making his final exit (here is the preaching I did) and then King Solomon appears. Now, I like David, but I must admit I really like Solomon. Mostly because of the passage in which he begins his kingship (read last Saturday). He is given by God the option of choosing any kind of life that he’d want—one with great wealth or great victory over his enemies or even great length of days—but he decides the best life he could have is a wise one. He asks God for “lev shomeya.” Literally, “a listening heart.”
I wrote about Solomon’s choice a couple years ago, but I feel the dilemma most acutely at present. Faced with cancer, panic sometimes sets in. I wake up thinking I’d kinda like to ask for long life. But long isn’t the same as good.
I have the feeling that our nation is also feeling Solomon’s choice sizzling anew at present. We realize that some of our decisions in voting were made by placing a priority on wealth or victory over our perceived enemies. But wealth and victory are not the same as good. We’ve sacrificed wisdom for lesser goods, and we are not enjoying as good a life as possible. God hopes for us something more.
Last week, I touched base briefly with Rhonda, one of my friends in Minneapolis who has been active representing a Catholic presence in the midst of the ICE storm. Going out to non-violent protests, fully conscious of the fact that participating in these is still dangerous under current administration, she noted that she’d come to realize that “not being human is worse than not being alive.” I’ve sat with that line for days now. Not being human is worse than not being alive.
For Christians, living forever on this beautiful planet has never been the promise. It’s never been the good God desires for us as humans. Rather the good is wisdom—the ability to live human life for as long as it lasts with a listening heart. A heart that loves. A heart that can learn. A heart that can discern what is the right thing to do in the right moment.
Some of you know I’ve been doing the 19th Annotation of the Ignatian Exercises as a way to help me get my head on straight, even while missing a portion of my brain. I’m to that point where we get to meditate on “The Two Standards”—which is not terribly different than God’s asking Solomon, “Which life would you choose for yourself?” I was moved by a writing on the voice of Christ in this meditation, based on the work of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin:
“If you wish to follow me, make yourself attractive and approachable—warm, thoughtful, affirming, sympathetic, interesting—so you can build connections—friendships, associations, teams, and committees—groups that will help build unity among people.
Invite complexity into your life—build new relationships, assume new responsibilities, challenge yourself, recreate yourself, be open to those who do not think the way you do—so that you are forced to grow, develop, and become more conscious of who you are and what you can become. Invite complexity into the lives of others so that they may become more conscious of who they are and of their potential for service.
Let helping build the Body of Christ on Earth become your primary purpose and meaning in life. As a committed loving person, you may trust me to take care of your eternal soul. Can you do this for me and with me?” *
I realize Teilhard is always a little dense in his thought, but the passage resonated with me. Yes, this is living as good a life as possible, I think.
This week may we all be warm, thoughtful, affirming, sympathetic, interesting. This week let us build connections that will help build unity among people. This week let us welcome the complexity that simply IS life right now. Let the Kingdom continue to become our primary purpose and meaning, and we will know we’ve chosen a wise life.
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Unexpected Photo for the Week: Doesn't get better than a hand painted Mees-Moose-Gram from your Milwaukee contingent. I suspect that moose know all sorts of things about living the best life possible.... or maybe I just like them.
*Quote for the Week comes from: The New Spiritual Exercises in the Spirit of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin by Louis M. Savary (pp. 122-23)