What's missing pulls us toward opportunity for rebirth

Each step forward in life requires letting go of something, either voluntarily or by events that occur in the passing of time. The movement from childhood to being married and then a parent is a wonderful progression that involves letting go of some things in order to gain others. We move from being provided for to being the provider for another. We may not think it rises to the level of rebirth because it is normally a transition we must grow into. It does require us to view life differently and change our priorities.

Most of us will eventually hit some sort of challenge in our lives that demand we change. If we don’t the consequences can be catastrophic. The event may be our fault or someone else’s. It may just be something that happens for which there is no blame to be cast. Whatever it is, we are certain that we will not be the same ever again. The world we thought we lived in has let us down and done some damage. Time to reevaluate.

This often happens because we had something (or thought we did) that turned out to be missing. It might be trust. It might be control. It might be security. It might be a community. What is not there sends us into the abyss and we must find life again. Catastrophes are not blessings, but they can be opportunities to rethink and reset. And unlike the resurrection of Christ that we celebrate each Easter, they can take time.

In a 1928 biography of Saint Francis of Assisi, Luigi Salvatorelli describes a pivotal moment for Francis after he recovered from an illness. Francis looked at his surroundings and, “sought anxiously for his usual sensations [but they] had nothing more to say to him. Everything that until then served to enliven his existence had become a blurred, insipid dream. The world had suddenly become a barren desert. It is in such moments of desolation and vacancy that . . . great vocations are born.”

He continues that for some, “The old life no longer brings satisfaction; but they are not yet sure what the new one ought to be, and they are doubtful whether any such exists. They are moved to cast from their existence the old contentment, as insipid and colorless; but yet uncertain what to put in its place.” (The Life of St. Francis of Assisi, p. 58).

I do not know anyone well who has not had a moment or two like this in life. Moments brought on us by the knowledge that something is missing. What is not there overwhelms the things that are. What is missing pulls us toward an opportunity for rebirth.

There is another powerful example of something missing in the Gospel account of John. It is from a different perspective than the examples here, but it does show us the possibilities. We read this in John 20:3-9, “Peter then came out with the other disciple, and they went toward the tomb. They both ran, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first; and stooping to look in, he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb; he saw the linen cloths lying, and the napkin, which had been on his head, not lying with the linen cloths but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not know the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.”

He believed because the body was not there. He believed because of what was missing. He had no idea what life in a world where death did not have the last word would be like. But ... faith. Because of rebirth disaster does not have the last word in our lives. Faith does because the tomb is empty.