Glad reunion...

As we walked up to the museum entrance, the small group turned to look and then began to laugh with arms outstretched for hugs. Friends not seen for fifty years…high school friends… gathered for their reunion in Birmingham, Alabama. Many of Michael’s school friends were in class together for all twelve grades, living in the same neighborhood, some even a part of his life since his birth. And now, after lives well lived, aged like fine wine, they began a two day journey of reconnection, a journey fueled by loving remembrance and gratitude for the present. I was an interested bystander, one of the spouses spending time waiting, meeting and greeting, observing the process. Name tags with senior pictures helped the identification of changed faces and bodies. The jockeying of earlier reunions for status and appearance seemed to be reduced by the passage of time. No one escapes unscathed in the aging game. Everyone put their best foot forward. Hair dye, a toupee or two, new clothing, carefully applied makeup and other gilding of the lilies highlighted the specialness of the occasion. But the one image that overrode all other images was the sight of these people, long separated, hugging, laughing, talking, sharing their lives with one another in glad reunion. Michael spent time with Carol, his girl friend in grades three through six and in high school. They were able to have some time to talk about their shared past, remember the good times and apologize for old hurts. Cheerleaders gathered, bouncing around and for a moment, it was as if they were once again teenagers in the halls of Banks High. Everywhere I looked Saturday night, I saw happy faces, heard the roar of the past and the present merging in Alta Dena Country Club as remembrances flowed like a river of time. When the commotion overwhelmed my introverted soul, I walked outside to sit in a swing and watch the moon rise over the golf course. The darkness of the night was broken with pinpoints of light, homes around the course, and the moon rise lit the sky with a pale glow. As I listened to the party inside, I began to imagine the glad reunion I believe comes when we die. Wonderful as this gathering was, I imagine the final reunion will be one of perfect love and joyous recognition. I know this by faith not by any demonstrable experiment or testimony. A new study is being funded to determine the reality of the afterlife. The scientists promise a fair, unbiased result. This amuses me no end. How can one prove or disprove a reality from which we have few return travelers? Near death experiences and death experiences are all subjective, peculiar to the person who lives through their own death and no one has yet returned after a burial to confirm or deny the existence of the afterlife. It has been and will continue to be an article of faith, knowledge through mystery not defined by rational thinking. Just as the Banks High School Class of 1962 gathered everyone into a loving embrace regardless of their place in the class, so will God gather us up in his loving arms when we breathe our last. “Fear not”, Jesus said. “I go to prepare a place for you and where I go, you will go also.” How that happens, I do not know. When that happens, I do not know. But my heart knows my soul, my essential self will be gathered up to God and have a glad reunion with all who have loved me and whom I have loved. Thanks be to God for love incarnate, love that will not let me go even in the cold waters of death… love that sustains and seeks to be my final resting place…home, sweet home at last.