Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life
Olive Richmond died. I no longer remember the date, not even the year; but it’s a sure truth, Olive Richmond died. I was a young child at the time. Perhaps I was ten or twelve, I don’t know. But regardless, her dying, on whatever day that was, changed my life—and my young theology—forever.
Olive Richmond was the wife of our pastor, the Rev. Dr. Clifford Richmond. As a child, I adored them both. He was the preacher whose sermons effortlessly joined scripture and Christian experience. She was the gentle lady, who had such a special kinship with all of creation that even ordinarily wary animals were drawn to her. She was a special lady. So when Olive Richmond was diagnosed with cancer, not only did I pray, but the entire church was joined as one in prayer.
You understand, I was a child. I knew the scripture about moving mountains with faith only as large as a grain of mustard seed. And had not Jesus said, “Whatever you ask for in prayer believing, you will receive”? Well, friends, this child of God believed. Perfectly. Absolutely. And while so many would claim that her dying was a kind of healing, her death was not the prayer of faith I had prayed nor the result scripture so clearly promised this young child. Scripture, I discovered that day, was vastly more complex than I had been led to understand.
St. Paul had said, “When I became a man, I put away childish things.” Well, on the day Olive Richmond died, this young man put away forever the idea that scripture was simple matter, easily divined. Since that day, scripture—like Lent and even life itself—would be seen by this young man to be laced throughout with generous portions of contradiction, wonder, and mystery.
Prayer: God, this life you have given us is full of contradiction, wonder, and mystery. We are thankful for your Spirit, which guides our walk through that life from within. Amen.
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