We Do Not Know

"For beneath the humility of the person who believes he or she knows their limitations is the fear of those who have never found or felt their limitations. Only when we have travelled to those stony places of the spirit where we are forced to confront our helplessness and our failure can we be said to know our limitations, and then the knowledge is too late to be useful. We do not know what we can or cannot bear until we have risked the impossible and intolerable in our own lives."

―Rowan Williams

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Dear Kate,

How far can you go with a person, a kin, a friend, a lover, someone who you imagine carries the possibility to go "all the way" with you?

We have all seen the little picky eater who simply refused to acknowledge the simple morsel in front of him as simply edible and edible simply.  Simple to you; child abuse if he ever grew enough to name the moment.

We know our limitations, bottom-lines all across our face, where possibilities stop and conversations end.  We are not going there: which is pretty much everywhere.  Who I am is what I can't; who we are is what we don't.

Going "all the way" with a person, do we still think it possible, or even desirable?  Going somewhere - anywhere, with someone - anyone, at some length - any length, to some end - any end, is already somewhat - anywhat, an achievement of some day - any day.

So turn up the music
Pour out the wine
Stop at the surface
The surface is fine
We don't need to go any deeper

If you've been taking note of this sermon, here's the takeaway point you came for (get your doggie bag now): who are we to each other if we don't plan on suffering for our togetherness?

The question sounds simple, but I have never heard it asked in so many words.  At times we might even think we have spoken the words, only to have our every other word refute them resoundingly.

Till death do us part, if only the melodrama between us would ever amount to that.  We are too well-to-do on our own to know what to do with each other.  Even in church we stare at blank faces and ask, What the hell do you want from me?  If you can't make me any happier than what I am happy enough about and with myself, why are you there, sitting across from me, expecting decency?  What possible possibilities are you pipe-dreaming?

We find it insufferable that we should suffer for anything; for that we find every suffering thing insufferable.

Yours, Alex