Perhaps the most powerful lesson of my many trips to Indiana was the danger of having a closed mind. Too often we become captives of our prejudices and narrow in our outlook. Buzz, the man under my microscope, was taking me at face value. My mistake was not to afford him the same courtesy.
As a smug, godless New Yorker, I ventured into the Bible Belt expecting another human being to deal with a life-threatening illness on my terms. We all think we have the magic down pat. I had learned to cope with illness my way, doubting authority and leaning on my hyper-rational and dispassionate self. What I was ignoring was that this formula worked for me, not for Buzz.
We cannot dismiss the faith of another, though that seems to be in vogue in the world these days. And there I was on the town square, condescending toward the man from whom I should have been learning. My mind did creak open, and I let go of the judgments that had no rightful place in this inquiry.
Not all of us are serious Christians. But I learned to admire Buzz for having a set of principles and living by them, even if his wrinkle-free thinking was hard to accept. If the sick flounder, perhaps it is because we get too caught up in our dramas, unaware that in fact we have anchors that keep us grounded in the storm—and they are uniquely personal. When we recognize our own anchors, we can accept that others’ differ but might be equally effective.
Buzz’s time on this planet is spent in service to God. He is selfless in his everyday dealings with his close Christian community and is prepared to leave his family in their care when he hits the road for sunnier climes. That Buzz is ready, if not eager, to set off for heaven makes him glow. What greater peace is there?