A friend of mine is in the hospital, and our conversations have wandered toward the big questions lately. What happens when we die, and whether anything does. She doesn’t believe in God, and she says so plainly, without apology.
I’ve been careful with her. I haven’t asked how she came to that belief (or non-belief), partly because I’m afraid I won’t ask the right questions, and more because I’m afraid she’ll ask me for answers. I work for the church. I’d like to think that means I have something solid to offer in these conversations. What I have is a tradition, a practice, and a lot of years of not being sure.
I also don’t want to preach to a woman in a hospital bed. I’ve never seen anyone talked into believing, and I won’t try it on someone who can’t leave the room. Whatever faith I have came to me slowly, over years, and I couldn’t hand it to her if I tried.
On autopilot, I offered to keep her in prayer. She said, “That’d be more for your comfort, not mine. And that’s okay.” It was honest and it was kind, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
So I’ve been asking what brings her peace instead. We can talk about doubt and fear when they come up, and they do. But peace seems like the better question, easier to discuss, and I’d rather hear her answer than guess at it.
Mostly we talk about the past. She has known me since my twenties, when I didn’t have a gray hair on my head. She tells me about her travels to a long list of countries with her husband and about her years as a librarian, a career spent helping people find answers. I bring the New York Times crossword and a few other puzzles. She has dementia, and she’s determined to keep her mind sharp, so we work through them together.
She and her husband call my twins their grandchildren, which the twins find hilarious, since it means an extra set of grandparents for them. They make her braided bracelets and beaded necklaces, each one custom, and the joy it gives her is easy to see. I don’t know what to call that if it isn’t bringing her closer to peace, and I don’t think she needs me to figure it out.
Whatever I believe about God, I want to believe I’m loved and that I deserve peace. I want her to know the same is true of her, and that she doesn’t have to agree with me to have it. Love that requires the right beliefs would be a transaction.