The Light in the Heart of Darkness

During the two years that I researched and wrote The Hamsa, my belief and understanding of God evolved in a way that I never would have anticipated.  As a youngster, I was raised to believe in a heaven and a hell.  That concept and a father's belt were the fundamental tools used to enforce discipline: an unruly child was threatened with an eternity of roasting in hell and got just a taste of what it might be like with a few good whacks from his father's belt.

Over time, I abandoned the thought of hell, as I drifted from religion and towards spirituality.

I struggled again with the concept as I wrote The Hamsa.  What happened to Hitler?  The more I researched, the more the question plagued me.  Was there anyone ever as evil as Hitler, I asked myself?  What happens to a person like this?  One Sunday, my good friend Father Greg delivered a wonderful sermon in which he canticalized, "This is Jesus my son in whom I am well pleased ... this is the Jordan river in which I am well pleased ... this is Jerusalem in which I am well pleased ..."  His list went on and on.  I met with Father Greg for an hour the following Monday.  "Finish this sentence," I challenged him.  "This is Auschwitz ..."  Could the conclusion possibly me "in which I am well pleased?"

Throughout the conversation and the days that followed, things became clearer to me.  At the core of it all is the fact that God gave us free will.  Virtually everything we do can be accomplished in more than one way.  Some ways are better than others, and some ways simply represent the clear difference between right and wrong.  With that thought in mind, I concluded that God created no 'bad people.'  We are all good people.  The fact is, good people can make bad choices.

The picture became even clearer to me ... If I believe there is no hell, and if I believe there are no bad people, what happens to people like Hitler who make horrendously bad choices?  The answer has become inescapable to me.  As each man takes his final breath, God gives man his final gift.  With each man's final breath, God reveals ALL to him and from that revelation comes the light, even from the heart of darkness.  At that instant in time between life and eternity, each man KNOWS the truth, and it is so clear that it is undeniable.  At that instant when darkness becomes light, each man achieves redemption, passes from life and into the heart of God.

Father Greg also introduced me to the work of the late Thomas Merton.  Recently, I read another revelating statement from Merton that influences me to think I may be getting closer to the truth.  In his book No Man Is an Island, Merton writes, "... the supreme expression of [God's} justice is to forgive those whom no one else would ever have forgiven.  That is why He is, above all, the God of those who can hope where there is no hope."

Final Post, 2010

This year was as challenging a year as I've had in all my 61 years.  The highs reached to heaven; the lows just don't seem so low with God on your side.  There were plenty of highs, but I will only mention the top four:

• Lyla Marie Kraay
• Marie's First Communion
• The Hamsa
• Bicycling

Ash Wednesday fell on February 17th this year.  Marie and I attended Mass, and from that day forward, I attended daily Mass through the remainder of the year, and I will continue that practice in 2011 and beyond.  That daily practice has changed me irreversibly for the rest of my life, and I am convinced it has changed me in a positive way.  I only wish it happened sooner, but I remain thankful for the way it is.

Five months later, due in no small part to the influence of Father Greg Wiest, Marie made her First Communion.  I cannot express how special it is when a mature person is moved by God and makes a choice to give her soul to him.  Clearly, Marie made a choice because she wanted to, not because she had to!

I could list hundreds of positive things that happened, but I won't.  I will keep them to myself and hope that you have those things to recall in 2010 as well.  After all, each of us has the choice to remember 2010 through the good things that happened to us or through the not so good.  That is our choice.  I'll remember the good, and leave my 2010 posts with a final, if not rather inconsequential thought ...

In January 2010, I told myself I would ride my bike 2,600 miles, which I believe approximates the distance from New York City to Los Angeles.  After my final 2010 ride this morning, I end the year with 2,725.22 miles on my bike and 22.34 miles in my pool.  In the words of James Brown, "I feel good."