Recent Events & Poem #2

I'm still in shock about the recent events regarding OBL.  I'm going to refrain from commentary as the details and socio-political implications are far above my paygrade.  On September 11th we were woken up in the middle of the night (b/c of where we lived at the time) by a phone call from my mom, asking if we were alright, if everything was alright, and we had no idea what she was talking about until she told us to turn on the news.  This Sunday, I was woken in the middle of the night by a text from my mom that said, "YEAH!  OBL IS DEAD!"  Interesting how things come full circle.

But I've been thinking about the families of those killed on 9/11 and their reactions to this.  It has me thinking about several Tim Keller sermons I've heard over the years.  He often reminds us not to turn penultimate things (good job, good marriage, good reputation) into ultimate things.  They are good, but they're not God. 

People who lost their loved ones, and really all of us in this country, have been waiting to see if we'd ever get him.  If a day would come that would definitively close the door - somewhat - on that tragedy.  And then it came.  And I started listening to interviews with victims of 9/11 and, though they were glad and relieved and vindicated and one step closer to closure, most of them also stressed that this is complicated, and that in the grand scheme of their lives, it doesn't actually change anything.

The Bible, God, and Tim Keller often warn us not to make our lives revolve around anything but Him.  If we revolve around money and get a billion dollars, it will not be enough.  If we revolve around finding a good spouse and we find one, we will crush them with the pressure of our expectations.  Nothing in the universe is big enough to fulfill us except Him.  And this is being proven to me in a small way by these families - it's very very good that he's gone.  But it's not enough to bring back the love they once had and to ease the pain of their loss.  It will never be enough.

And a follow up to "The Art of Losing."  Marilyn Hacker wrote a response poem that I also really enjoy.

From Orient Point

The art of living isn't hard to muster:
Enjoy the hour, not what it might portend.
When someone makes you promises, don't trust her

unless they're in the here and now, and just her
willing largesse free-handed to a friend.
The art of living isn't hard to muster:

groom the old dog, her coat gets back its luster;
take brisk walks so you're hungry at the end.
When someone makes you promises, don't trust her

to know she can afford what they will cost her
to keep until they're kept.  Till then, pretend
the art of living isn't hard to muster.

Cooking, eating and drinking are a cluster
of pleasures.  Next time, don't go round the bend
when someone makes you promises.  Don't trust her

past where you'd trust yourself, and don't adjust her
words to mean more to you than she'd intend.
The art of living isn't hard to muster.

You never had her, so you haven't lost her
like spare house keys.  Whatever she opens,
when someone makes you promises, don't.  Trust your
art; go on living: that's not hard to muster.