Epitaphs

June 24-June 30, 1990

June 24

On a Sunday morning, amidst my sins and thoughts and actions, amidst my shame and self-pity... I don’t know. Maybe there’s a bible verse, and maybe it will pop out at me by chance.

“Yahweh is all I have, I say to myself... It is good to wait in silence for Yahweh to save... to sit in solitude and silence when it weighs heavy, to lay one’s head in the dust —maybe there is hope... Yahweh, I called your name from the deep pit. You heard my voice... You are near when I call to you. You said, ‘Do not be afraid.’” (Lamentations 3:24a, 26, 28, 29, 55, 56a, 57)

“...Take off your dress of sorrow and distress, put on the beauty of God’s glory, wrap the cloak of God’s saving justice around you.” (Barach 5: 1, 2a).

“The whole world will remember and return to Yahweh, all the families of nations bow down before him. For to Yahweh, ruler of the nations, belongs kingly power! All who prosper on earth will bow before him, all who go down to the dust will do reverence before him. And those who are dead, their descendants will serve him, will proclaim his name to the generations still to come; and these will tell of his saving justice to a people yet unborn...” Psalm 22: 27-31a.

June 25

Why doesn’t Steve Sullivan want to talk about God? That’s a foolish question. Steve is one of several bible belt fundamentalists who work with me at Maxrad. We went to dinner tonight at the end of our shift, and, being hungry for a discussion of faith, I looked forward to Steve bringing up God, and he didn’t. Maybe he’s not as much of a Christian as I had thought.

But here’s another question: Why doesn’t Jon Vold want to talk about God? Now that is a question I would do better to consider: I should realize that there is no good answer I can conclude with Steve as long as I cannot confess the answer for myself.

And really, the answer to Steve’s question, the question about Steve, is irrelevant, because if I even get close to the point where I can be rightly concerned about someone else’s conversational faith I would have to be talking about God all the time; if I were ever quiet about God, I would have no cause to judge others for being quiet; and if I was talking about God all the time, I would never have time to wonder why anyone having dinner with me was talking about anything else. I would be forever steering the conversation back to God, and we would be talking about God from dusk to dawn, and I wouldn’t let anyone get a secular word in edgewise.

I am not that way, though. God knows I don’t even try to be. I might have a million answers to why Jon Vold doesn’t talk about God and not one answer is a good one: “I’m ashamed,” “I’m afraid,” “I want to talk about something else right now,” “I don’t know what to say,” and so on.

I am a sinner, Lord, perpetually falling short. I’ll use every excuse a million more times, and still I will come to you for forgiveness. You give it to me every time, too, and why I don’t talk about that to everyone I cannot say. All I can do, it seems, is ask for forgiveness one more pitiful time. 

June 26

I had a good talk with Dan tonight. We will be all right. God will take care of us.

And I had a great talk with Rebekah Choi at University Bible Fellowship. 

[Footnote: The presence of University Bible Fellowship (UBF) at the University of Illinois at Chicago prompted a 1990 student newspaper editorial to call the organization an objectionable cult, but in the year I spent with UBF I did not find cause for concern. Its leaders promoted a protestant Christian theology with a focus on in-depth interactive bible study, encouraging students to devote as much time to studying the bible as they would to a college course with writing assignments, weekly meetings and homework. Weekly “sogams” were written, hymns were sung. I never cared for their three hour Sunday church services, preferring my Lutheran hour, but they still kept the weekday bible study door open for me.]

Rebekah told a wonderful story about “wanting to die.” She was looking inward during a sufferable time of her life —recuperating from kidney stone surgery —and with the persuasion of a chance antagonist (”Stop worrying!”) she got religion, so to speak. She decided that as long as she was going to die she may as well die for Jesus. But after a while it became apparent to her that it wasn’t all smooth sailing, this dying for Jesus. For one thing, at the end of each day she still worried, so much that she couldn’t sleep. During the day, she kept herself busy dying for Jesus by attending bible studies, going to church, reading; but during the night, with nothing else to do, she was reminded again of her pain and it kept her awake. Well, one day, she “went fishing” (a UBF evangelism term), and she suddenly found herself with five new students to study the bible with. She put everything she had into building a fellowship with these new students, and before she knew it she found herself feeling exhausted at night. And it was wonderful.

There’s no way I can tell Rebekah’s story as well as she did; it was beautifully told by her because it was a personal testimony. But I hope the sense of what she said stays with me.

I also had a visit with Josh today. The hospital room was crowded, so it wasn’t too personal, but maybe that was for the best. I look forward to a brotherly talk tomorrow, though, so I can tell him about my conversations with Dan and Rebekah.

June 28

Yesterday was a good day. I walked (still doing that daily) to the hospital, had a good visit with Josh. Saw Aunt Grace there, too. And I had an extremely productive staging session at work. That’s it, but it was enough to count for a “good day.” The productive effort at work was so incredible that I’m thinking of calling at 8:00 am to get their reaction. Maybe that’s being too proud, but what the heck. And I’m looking forward to another walk to the hospital today and another visit with Josh. Oh, one other thing: while walking I finished reading “In Our Time,” the third of four books I need to read for my Hemingway class.

I am still waiting for a letter from Parul. She’s been gone almost three weeks. But rationalizing has been keeping me sane, and it might even be irrational to be worried about her delay. One way or another, I won’t see her for three more weeks, so I’ll just have to be patient. But I sure would like to hear from her.

Don is still at home, recuperating from last Friday’s chemotherapy. I have been simply giving him space. He prefers to be left alone, I think. He doesn’t like the question “How are you?” and I guess I can’t blame him, since he’s heard it asked so much and hasn’t often had a good answer to give. I wish I could think of something else, something better to say, but I can’t, and I guess I’ve resigned myself to that. Don’s condition is improving —the tumor is half size and the lymph node growths have receded —but I’m still cautious about my enthusiasm. God, are you there?

June 30

Parul’s letter arrived today. It had taken two weeks to get here, and now, at last, I am happy. So I have no reason to continue with the thought that had just crossed my mind. Church is tomorrow, and suddenly I have an obligation to go.

God bless Parul, and thank you for her presence in my life and in my heart. God I once prayed for someone to come to be my companion. God I also prayed that my companion would be someone to provide a support for my weak faith, even as I could support her in return. I still pray that, Lord, and I pray that while I might be a catalyst for Parul’s faith, she enhances my own faith in the process, so that mutually we grow together. Lord I want you to take priority in my life. But I want Parul, too, and this is the only way I can think of to ask for her continued presence. I want her to be my number two, God, with your great blessing, and I want to be her number two. So I guess I’m just praying, God, that you would keep standing in front of and in between us, reminding us that no matter what, you are number one.