Searching for Mercy

I have been re-reading Annie Dillard's book, For the Time Being, and it seems to address the question of God's presence - or absence - in a suffering world. I've been thinking about that quite a bit myself lately. Riding to work this morning I passed through beautiful countryside and marveled at the cloud shrouded Berkshire Hills. As I passed a golf course I noted a man all decked out in his spring golf finery. He was apparently out for a day of leisure and total pleasure; it seemed to me almost hedonistic (although my training in human behavior informs me that all may not be as it seems). Nevertheless, I thought about how I, with all of my worries, have so much, and I wondered what the streets of Baghdad were like today and how many would die before dark. Where is God? Do prayers mean anything, anything at all? Karma makes sense; a God of mercy is elusive. What can we pray, we frail beings at the mercy of so very very much? For mercy, of course - for all of us, and for understanding.

A Seeker's Poem

The material things that you hold so dear will be dust and lost on the wind
Your body too, and the bodies of all you love, will likewise be dust
This civilization, this country, this home you claim, will fall, and even a memory of it will not remain.

Knowing this, can you be self-seeking
Knowing this, can you fail to act
Knowing this, accept yourself as you are rather than as you wish to be and step forward into the light.

Play your small part with the small life you were given
The light only will remain through the ages.

Be strong
Have courage
Give up childish things
Surrender, be.

- by Claire Devereaux Smith

Good Friday, 2007