A Letter to the Three Friends I Wish I Had

Dear Sam, Hamed, and Jo:

How I wish I had met each of you and that we had become lifelong friends.  Sam, you could have explained the depth of your Jewish faith to me and helped me understand my God better.  Hamed, you could have taught me to understand the beauty and justice inherent in Islam.  Jo, you could have been my agnostic friend, teaching me to ask honest and difficult questions, showing me how doubt and faith are closely linked together.  But we never met.  We lived separate lives.

Now we’re in our ’70s, arthritis and shortness of breath are making their presence felt whenever we see a flight of stairs—and look for an elevator!  Mortality is hovering on the horizon of our lives with increasing intensity.  And I’m reflecting often about “what might have been,” and my grandchildren.

When we left university, we intended to change the world.  I believed that my calling to be a pastor would give me endless opportunities.  It did.  But growing my church absorbed all my energy and enthusiasm.  Looking back, I confess to being more concerned about the affirmation of my church leaders than fulfilling the dream!  I had hoped to leave my small corner of the world in a much better place than I found it.  However, as my church grew, the community around us got worse.  And I did nothing of significance to bridge the gaping chasms between our congregation and people of other Faiths, or no faith at all.  The three of you may have done the same, absorbed in your businesses, religions, and other important goals.

For me, rejoicing in past successes is now overshadowed by my sorrow over past neglect.  My belief in an imminent Second Coming of Christ blinded me to my responsibility to care for God’s creation. My belief in the “chosenness” of my church made me smug, and that closed any real dialogue with others of different convictions or philosophies. If only I had stopped and thought more about what really matters; if only you had stopped and done the same!  Instead of living three parallel lives, we could have learned more about the treasures each one of us has been carrying. I am convinced now that with your help, I would follow Christ better!  All of our lives would have been much richer.

It’s all “What might have been.” 

I’m growing old, and have some time on my hands, so I’m taking a belated new turn in what little is left of the road ahead.  I’m committing to be a better listener.  Not to argue, but to learn, not to seek to demolish another’s beliefs, but to discover their strengths and how they could enrich my life. I want to get beyond the tempting tidbits of conversation that will flow from the next two years of presidential politics, and instead to seek out those with spiritual lives different from mine and to learn from them—especially from Jews, Muslims, and agnostics.  We are fellow travelers on the same difficult road for our world of deteriorating climate, challenges of globalization, dishonesty in politics, and rigidity in religion.  I must hear the things that people from these different persuasions want to tell me.   I want to walk this new path seeking mutual understanding, not domination; building, not tearing down; and working for the good of the wonderful creation God gave us all.

Most importantly (the main reason that prompted this note) I want to model this sense of inclusiveness to my son and daughter in the hope that at least in our family, there’ll be a new interest in the uniqueness and convictions among our recent growing circle of friends outside our church.  The facts are, the four of us are leaving the world in a much bigger mess than we found it.  In the years I have left, I’m doing something about it, and I hope that you three, whoever you are and wherever you are, will hear me through this open letter on the Faith House website.

The journey to a better world seems daunting.  What can we really accomplish until we are no more?  Much, I’m beginning to think. We can leave a legacy in words, in resources, in prayer.  I would like to spend the rest of my days blowing the wind into the backs of those who can use such a legacy to further the dream. A quote from Mother Theresa has greatly encouraged me.  She said something like this:  few of us can do great deeds, but we can all do small deeds with great love.  If I had even one “old” friend from the other great Faiths, I would say to them, “Please accept the ‘changing’ me, so together we can yet make our small worlds better by listening, by acting for the sake of those who come after us, and for the good of the world we will soon leave behind.”

Roy

+ Roy Naden is an author and Professor Emeritus (Andrews University, MI) who lives, gardens, and writes in Seattle, WA +

Webmaster's Note:
Our journey to new world will be difficult or impossible without the help of our elders, people who raised us, taught us, loved us.
  Maybe this is a good time to share with some of them your views about the future? Maybe their wisdom can guide you?  Maybe their blessing can strengthen you?  Or maybe their fear and apathy can embolden you?
  Either way, we suggest you forward this letter to them and start a conversation.
And then keep us posted!

Comments

[Nathan Brown]

Thank you for this. It touched my heart with its poignancy, depth, challenge and vision. Thank you Roy and Samir for sharing this.

[Sam]

Very inspiring and thought provoking. Thank you. Small deeds with great love. Its possible.

[Rafael Candelaria]

Dear Brother Naden,

It's wonderful every time one gets to see a religious leader openly and genuinely embrace others not from their own "Tribe" with the humble expectation of wanting to learn. Jumping into the World's Pool is so much more exciting!

You Bless me...

Thanks,

Ralph

[Corinna]

Interesting to know.

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