From the pulpit: The good life

I hope it doesn’t sound strange or morbid to say that I enjoy reading the obituaries in the newspaper. To begin, I’m interested in people and in the ordinary dramas that mark our time on this world. Beyond that, I’m fascinated by how these same people, or the loved ones who write about them, wish to be remembered in the first place.

Simply put, you can read these stories and connect the dots when it comes to what constitutes something we can only call a “good life.” Faith, family, a house of worship, philanthropy, friends, service to country, hobbies—all of these are valued and bragged about and usually make for good obituary reading.

And yet it is equally fascinating that these hallmarks of a good life are not necessarily what they are selling in the rest of the paper, for the advertisements on nearly every page promise something else instead—things like beauty, power, and wealth.

I’ve told my friends at Saint Luke’s that during the last few years we have all been like ducks on a pond around here, gliding along the surface of an idyllic suburban existence, while scrambling below just to keep up. We are exhausted, and the worst part of our ongoing recession is that so many have suffered alone, presenting to the world around us the easy perfection that is expected in our community so that someone will love us. We think.

But what if we were to discover that the “good life” is right under our noses, and free? What if we were to discover every day gifts all around us and within us that can feed us and refresh us and remind us we are not alone after all? What if we were able to step off the treadmill of perfection and simply live?

We can. Those gifts are here and all around. Those gifts are stuck in the middle of our own everyday drama, and these gifts can be as simple as the eyes of our children, a thank you note, a sunrise, a good dream, a tear, a call from a friend, a thank you note, a kiss by the hospital bedside, honesty, a walk in the park, forgiveness, a good joke, a job well done…

Those gifts are here and now, and free and abundant; while they may not be in the advertisements of the newspaper, we surely don’t wait for the obituaries to find them. Look around, give thanks, and live that good life today.

Richmond Webster is the Rector of Saint Luke’s Episcopal Church.