Create Life and Absorb Pain
Once again this week, we find ourselves drawn into the mystery of meaning—how pain, loss, and suffering might not just be endured but, somehow, trusted. By grace (rather than luck), we return to the same protagonist who last invited us into this wrestling match: my very own Ian Nelson-Johnson.
The wisdom Ian embodies in this week’s story is born of a raucous, treacherous, full-contact adventure in play.
At its core, this story explores the deep and powerful relationship between the act of creating new life—of bringing something new into the world—and the inevitable cost of caring for what you have helped create.
A new relationship . . .
A new job . . .
An artistic creation . . .
An idea . . .
A project . . .
A dream . . .
A commitment to resistance . . .
A baby—who becomes a toddler . . . a child . . . an adolescent!
I often invite those I have the privilege of gathering with to say—that is, to proclaim—Amen. And before they respond, I remind them: Amen is not a word of relief.
It does not mean:
"Great, we’re getting out early. Short homily. One collection. Easy exit from the parking lot—saweet!"
Amen is a word of assent. It means yes. It means, I will be an ambassador of what has transpired here. And most of all, it means: this yes will cost me something.
If our Amen comes without cost—don’t bother. Cheap Amen.
When we participate in the creation of some iteration of new life, we are asked to say Amen. And no matter the form of that new life, this Amen will be costly. Terribly and beautifully so, as the poet Yeats might remind us.
"It was a good game. It was a really good game—one more time, please, Dad."
Amen.
- Terry Nelson-Johnson
